..I’ve always had workers who did their job and went home and then I’ve always had a sidekick. He’s that parrot on my shoulder or that albatross around my neck. He becomes some sick twisted guy who is somehow connected to my demented need for a co-dependant weird Comic team.
Damn, I get it now. I just wanted to be part of a comic team. I wanted to be part of Lewis-Martin or Laurel and Hardy.
Instead, I used the Junkshop to have laughs with frightening people. I have hired Junkies, ex-cons, twisted brains to write comedy material with.
That’s why when I come home I don’t need to watch television; I just spent ten hours with my sidekick agonizing over comic existance.
The Junkshop is my emotional playground. It has been some kind of art therapy that has not worked out well for me…
Well, maybe it has. I come home clear headed and ready to write.
Joey was my first sidekick. He was a Junkie who I told if he got on methodone, I’d give him a job.
What a job I gave myself when he got on methodone.
Oh, the stress I put on myself and my business over the years.There is something about the fucked up ness that appeals. We watch comic teams to watch them fall over themselves, not to invent the lightbulb.
I’m just going to relate one story of Joey before I call it a night.
Joey chased a rat out of the store with a hammer. The rat ran into the Hair Salon next door. The women are screaming and Joey walks into the Salon and clocks the rat in the head. He picks up the rat with his bare hands and walks the rat to the corner can, which made the women scream even more.
It was one of the most funny nauseating things I’d ever seen.
Who chases a rat with a hammer? The best was the sound of the hammer hitting the floor when he missed the rat.
I can’t explain why hitting the naked floor was so funny to me, maybe because I just expected to always hear the hammer hit the naked floor, but on occassion there was the sound of a dull thud.
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