Still Here

Really dark. Cold. I heard someone walking around about an hour ago. It was just Lane "The Vein" Hardwick. He says he got lost on the way out. I don't know. I'm starting to think this really isn't intermission. Maybe they cancelled the second half of the Academy Awards? Is that possible? Did Jack Nicholson get past Steve Brule and lacerate Alec Baldwin's cheeks, forehead, upper arms, torso and navel-area? Seems like the only real possibility at this point.

So I guess there was no Best Picture this year? Well, in a way, that's good. I mean, they didn't even nominate Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel. I think I'll just find a nice, warm nook somewhere backstage and bed down for the night. I found one of John's Travolta's hairpieces. It was crawling around under the seats, eating nacho crumbs and cheese stains. I'll use it for a blanket. It's bigger than you might think.

Alec Baldwin, if you're reading this, please come back and unlock the door. Please. I'm not sweaty anymore. I promise. Please. Just unlock the door. You don't even have to look at me or talk to me. I'm sorry for all of those things I said about your weight gain and B.O.

Please...