How dry I am...

Dry.

Dryness.

Drynipotence...

Um, I'm dry.

When I say that I'm dry, what I mean is, "I got nothing. I'm out. Kan't think of a thing to write. Hell, I kan't even write can't!"

Oh, sure. I could mean that I haven't been drinking... which I haven't. This isn't intentional, I assure you. I've just been too darn busy these days. I mean, what with all the frettin' and missin' of Rosa, what's a guy to do?! Seriously, though, I've been spending a bit of time revving my engine, getting ready for the big push that's going to start any day now. I figure once I do this reading on Saturday, the rest will follow.

So, how is this reading going? I'm glad you asked. We had our first rehearsal last night. The "director" came in without a clue as to what she was doing and she didn't get better from there. She hadn't read the script, had less ideas that your general My Side, and kept treating us like we were her students. (After about an hour, she learned to stop that with me.) So, it looks like this thing is going to be more like a radio play than a stage play - no blocking, no props, and music stands to hold our scripts. SHAMEFUL! Well, I won't be putting my script on any music stand and I told her I will have props. It would be one thing if we were performing on the radio but, and this is important, we're not! So, I'm going to sneak in a (fake) joint - I'm playing a stoner dad, after all - and maybe something else. Maybe a beer, that'd be good!

And then, I won't be dry!