February, We Hardly Knew Ye

I know this might not impress you, but I just did a lot of work. AFTER rehearsal, which got out at midnight, which was followed by a shorter fruit paunch rehearsal, which got out at 1. Then for an hour and a half, I read Clement Greenberg's art and culture and wrote a thing about it. Here's my thing- why hate kitsch? It's the most thoughtful twentieth century art form. I mean, I know not everything that's kitsch is KITSCH, but what about everything warhol ever did? Look, if Pollack was avant-garde and warhol was kitsch (which I'm deciding to designate as such from this point onward), why can't they both be considered high art in some respect?

And why am I throwing barbeque chips crumbs into my face at quarter-to-three when I really just want to go to sleep, not eat barbecue chips crumbs. Which spelling do you prefer? I think I like "barbeque" most, but the computer underlined it with a you-spelled-this-wrong-you-lovable-scamp line.

Look out, Late Night with Conan O'Brien - come thursday morning, one of your internships is MINE. Preferably with the Scripts, Research, or Casting departments, please.