I fucking hate when I’m asked, “So, what do you do?”
I find it painful to explain my vocation. I’m not really an asshole; I just play one on TV. To someone just meeting me, it can be a risky interaction. Explaining my anti-nine-to-five lifestyle tends to border on arrogance. Is this all an act? Hardly. I think of it as more of a performance.
Because I don’t do; I am. This glorious, repellent, beautiful train wreck of a life is my own fabulous creation and gift to the world. You’ve . . .
I fucking hate when I’m asked, “So, what do you do?”
I find it painful to explain my vocation. I’m not really an asshole; I just play one on TV. To someone just meeting me, it can be a risky interaction. Explaining my anti-nine-to-five lifestyle tends to border on arrogance. Is this all an act? Hardly. I think of it as more of a performance.
Because I don’t do; I am. This glorious, repellent, beautiful train wreck of a life is my own fabulous creation and gift to the world. You’ve . . .