I don’t believe it, it’s almost too good to be true

This picture is from Tommy’s highfaluting video game party. I’m getting checked from all sides, and one girl is checking my ass. The frightening old man getting ignored happens to be Nolan Bushnell. And Nolan is the guy who invented video games. Leonardo diCaprio is going to play Nolan in an upcoming film. I didn’t invent video games, but geek girls apparently prefer to check my ass over Nolan’s. Shit, I could play Nolan. Clicky for biggy.

If you need a perfect lover

As if my ego weren’t ridiculous enough. These were designed by the highly awesome Jay Fraley for Seven Deadly Sins. Clickies for biggies.

When I whispered in her ear, I lost another friend

Oh hell, my picture seems to have made it into the LA Times and nobody bothered to mention it to me, probably because the review kicks the shit out of the show. Most scenes in this show need rewrites. I did what I could with what I got.

From all those good and crazy people, my friends

One of my favorite possessions is a scrawled note: “To John Byrd: You were the best one in the show. Love, George Furth.” An extremely funny and friendly fellow all around. Thank you, sir, for the many kindnesses.

And you’re making me feel like I’ve never been born

Oh fuck a pig! My play, The Death of Ayn Rand, will be performed as part of the impressively sponsored San Francisco Theater Festival. It will be produced at the terrifyingly corporate Metreon in San Francisco on Sunday, July 27, 2008 at 1:00 p.m. The play will be performed in the Action Theater on the second floor. Sorry for the late notice, but I just found out.

That was drowning time, but old friends helped me through

Love to my friends. I was surprised to find out how many I had on my side.

Every day, I am a little more like me. It comes and goes. Your support means more than you know.

I’m doing one of the Seven Deadly Sins shows at Rude Guerrilla from July 25 through August 3. The material is pretty wacky… I’m the World’s Most Eligible Bachelor, and a couple dark hooded figures show up and beat the shit out of me with whips. It’s a comedy. In any case, it’s good to get some of this negative energy out in an artistically positive way. The table read of The Hermit Bird at Long Beach went well. It’s locked for a production in 2009. Also, The Death of Ayn Rand is apparently getting a production in San Francisco sometime this month. I’ll let you know when I know more.

But listen closely, not for very much longer

You’re way too beautiful girl, that’s why it’ll never work

[Redacted.]

Chapter one, the man who died

Las Vegas International, slot machines hollering at us from between the gates. Manchester, New Hampshire. The car-rental guard inspected my driver’s license for half a minute. He had not seen a California license before. To Mandy’s parents house. Her mother Mudd is here, tired, alternating between crying and relating how kind her relatives have been.

Emerson Hospital. Mandy’s father Nurn is here. There is a white band of skin where his wedding ring was. He is tired but coherent and emotionally stable. They removed some of the cancer but by definition it could not all be removed. An oncologist hasn’t seen him yet.

[Section redacted.]

To stay alive, I’ve been writing. I can’t tell if the play’s any good, but at the very least, regardless of what happens with the play or anything else, I can say: I meant it.

What’s down in the dark will be brought to the light

Depression, dark and pointless, over these past few weeks. Haven’t felt like moving, thinking, or breathing much. I cry a lot. Travelled to San Francisco last weekend, met some good friends who did their decent best to cheer me and remind me of my humanity.

Mandy got the call yesterday from her mother. Her father went into the hospital with stomach pain. They sent in a camera and found what they think is a lot of colon cancer. We’re on a plane tomorrow morning to Boston.

It comes in waves, sometimes.