Before we get to the fun:
1. My email is up and running again, and as I'd feared I've lost anything sent to me in the last two weeks. If you sent me any hatemail or wedding proposals recently, please send them again, to pyre@areaology.com.
2. I just put up a whole new section of comics in My Little Fort, with four fan comics I sent K.Thor of A Short and Happy Life. So far he's put one of them up, and I plan to keep sending them until he realizes how dangerously obsessed I am or I run out of funny ideas.

What I was actually going to write about today:

It's about time I faced the fact, bleak and depressing as it may be, that I'm never going to be a rock star. Now, now, settle down. I know what you're thinking, "But pyre, you're still young, you've got wicked hair, don't give up on your dreams." It's not as bad as all that, folks. I mean I'm still reaching for my traditional goals of fame, fortune, a harem, and the ability to sprout enormous leathery wings from my back whenever I feel like it. I just think I need to be a little realistic: I'm not going to become a rock star.
It's probably for the best.

All right, Cedar Rapids! Are you ready to ROCK??
(Crowd cheers)
You know, I was just in Chicago and I thought they knew how to rock...
(Crowd BOOs and screams)
I mean there were some really hardcore headbanging thrashers in the crowd at Chicago, and I gotta admit I was pretty impressed by those crazy bastards. But I really have to tell you guys now that Cedar Rapids audiences...
(Crowd cheers and waves hands in the air)
Have absolutely no goddamn CLUE how to rock! What are you kids, a bunch of pansies?
(Crowd screams and moshes madly to prove themselves)
Oh, just knock it off you pantywaists. I'm serious. Did you all remember to give your mommies a kiss when they dropped you off to the show tonight? Chicago really knew how to rock a stadium! You losers totally suck compared to the psychotic metalheads in Chicago.
(Some screaming, mostly obscenities, lots of middle fingers)
Man, I've never seen so much wild shit as at our concert in Chicago. Like, there was this one kid, scrawny little guy couldn't have been older than fourteen, he jumps into the pit. I figured he was dead meat, because that pit had some huge assholes thrashing around like it was the end of the world, but all of a sudden he comes flying out onto the crush at the front. I guess the kid launched off of one of the big bruisers or something. So, he's got a busted nose from the pit, and I mean it's just gushing blood everywhere, pouring down on everybody in the front who're all packed so tight they can't breathe anyway. The bouncers figure he's hurt so one of 'em grabs his leg and pull him off the front, right? But get this! The kid still doesn't want to go! He's got two bouncers trying to drag him out and he's kicking them and spitting blood at them and calling them all sorts of shit. So eventually these two guys just say to hell with it AND THROW HIM BACK INTO THE PIT! Scrawny little kid's flying fifteen feet over a crowd of crazy moshers who'll probably crush him when he lands and he's grinning all the way like it's the proudest moment of his life! Isn't that just the coolest thing? I mean, damn, that's so sweet!
(Dead silence)
I guess you had to be there. Whoa.