Missing Something

I've spent the past few days getting ready for my Halifax trip.
By cutting the crotch out of all of my pairs of underwear.
It's a shame, really.
I got through nearly the entire load before I realized that they had holes already.
Live and learn.

There are a lot of people I'm looking forward to seeing in Halifax.
Jon-O.
...
I guess that's about it, really.

Mark Forward stopped by the club.
He did comedy, and there were people there.
But I think they may have been his family.
I only conversed with him for a total of maybe twenty minutes.
And despite that I felt hauntingly compelled to give him a birthday card.
Having met him half an hour beforehand, I say:
"When's your birthday?"
He tells me (it's June 17th).
Saying nothing I write it on my hand.
He pauses, and then he whispers, "Are you going to do a trick or something?"
Sometimes these people come by and they're so funny that you want to vomit into their luggage.
You'd be jealous of them but you can't be jealous of them because they're so funny.
And you want to steal all of their material, but you can't because they're still in town.
I can't be this good in 27 seconds: