My favourite drug of all time is when I’m sitting in the audience of something I have written and people laugh at all of the right places. There is nothing like it. Even E can’t touch it.
A far away second is when I am training or just telling a story with mates and you hit the punch line and they laugh.
Today one of my stories that I told got the exact same laugh that it got in London and it was wonderful.
I realise that this makes me shallow and sad. I don’t care.
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Not that I think that anyone would be silly enough to steal my ramblings, but in case you may be thinking about it. . . the very act of my writing this means that I own the copyright. Really. Look it up.
So, please don't plagiarize. It just ain't cool. And what I say just isn't that interesting. Trust me. Most of my friends don't even read this.
That being said, I do subscribe to the T.S. Eliot philosophy of "Immature poets borrow, mature poets steal." There is a difference between Stealing and stealing. . . This is not to say that I am mature. If anything. . . I'm rambling aren't I? That's what I do. I ramble. So, yeah. I'll shut up now.
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