Conditional Reality

You can’t do this work for long without developing a certain loathing for the male gaze, the male desire, the male soul. On stage, I use that old trick, imagining the audience naked. Then they become so pathetic in my mind that I can go through my act unscathed by their need. It’s a living, what can I say? Truth is, I live for my volunteer time. I make meals at the homeless shelter several days a week. They have people who really need a helping hand. Lots of blind guys end up there. I like them best of all.

Labels: Laborer's tales