I had a good show last night. I know it was good because drinks were sent onstage for me, the crowd laughed, and I sold four shirts after the show. I also know it was a winner when a woman nearly twice my age told me I had a cute little ass and proceeded to molest me in front of her boyfriend/husband/cuckold. Then another woman told me the only way I could prove that I was not gay was to go to her house and sleep with her. Despite her interesting cialis prescriptions logic, I declined and she sat on a snowdrift and cried as I stared at her blankly with my cold dead eyes. Comedy groupies are the worst. Nothing says “What did I do wrong with my life?” like being fishhooked by a cougar while you pound Old Milwaukee Lights in an Elks Club.