The Sweetest Plum

Stupid fuckin' contest.
I didn't wanna win anyway.
Okay, fine, I did.
If John Sheehan had beaten me I would've been fine with it.
But then John Sheehan got in second place.
It wasn't until then that I thought, 'Jesus Christ, maybe I won this fuckin' thing.'
That's what bothered me about it all.
Because I was duped by the Warfords' greatest enemy:
Hope.
Then some other guy won.
So, then I not only didn't win, but I also didn't place and win a Molson bag.
He was funny, sure. He yelled a lot, but he was funny.
But he has never done comedy before the contest.
We paid dues.
I've had fat drunk men yell at me.
That's the thorn.
I'm gonna get some Thursday night 'spots', so I guess that's okay.
I wanted to ask if 'spots' meant 'paid', but figured that would be in poor taste.
And after already making a joke about 'boning the waitresses'-
a second time-
I figured I'd better scale back.

On the bright side, I wore bloomers today.
And delivered Shakespeare to a room of people who couldn't possibly be less interessted in Shakespeare.
Some heads looked up.
So that was nice.
And all it took was for me to wear a cape and some tights.