Monday Morning

4:13 am. Awake. This is what happens when you get up at 7 am on Sunday, start hoovering down bloody marys and writing comic songs with your best comic mate. We spent hours getting the track together, 7 to be precise. It takes all that time to have the idea and then chip away at every word, every phrase, shaping it  over and over until its something you can both live with. Rhonda and I are the same, in that neither of us believes a joke is ever truely finished. It only gets to the best way you can tell it for now. Thats the joy / curse of being obsessed with words. I can spend hours going over a sentence polishing it until I'm happy with it. Even then I can realise I was wrong about it an hour after that. You would think this is the most annoying affliction in the world, its the greatest gift I ever got.