Monologues from the Last Frontier Theatre Conference is available online and in stores!

Kevin Six and about 45 other worthy playwrights will have their monologues published in an anthology of monologues work-shopped at The Last Frontier Theatre Conference from 2008-2012.

Monologues from the Last Frontier Theatre Conference is available online and in stores!

Kevin's Integrity Problem was part of the 2012 conference. The playwrights from the Last Frontier Theatre Conference are some very cool and talented people -- and so are the editors of this book, Laura Gardner and Dawson Moore. I encourage you to purchase this book when I bother you again about its publication later this year. Thank you.

Kevin

Silent Majority Saturday

If you like funny things, you'll love Silent Majority with Special Guest Stephen Perlstein.  The performance, a Finest City Improv production, is at 8:30 p.m. Saturday, April 13th at 705 16th Street.  The evening features Red Squared and Underground Improv as well.  So that's quite a night of Improvisation fun -- and there's a bar, so... check the deets here -- and we'll see you there.

This is a test

I am testing two types of Facebook Feeds..  One is a Facebook App and the other is a Twitter App.  Which one do you like?  Click like on this one (of you like it the best) or the other one (above or below it -- if you like it best)/

I cannot decide...  Here's a link.

It's Hard Out Here for a Plush

I was looking for Grover last night. Long story in which I found Super Grover, and bought him, but it's just not the same as my old knitted Grover of years ago. Not so many as you might think and, therefore, there is no excuse for loosing him.

So... this is an apology, or a series of them. To the person who gave me Grover, forgive me for not remembering that you did this and, probably, for not thanking you. To the person I gave Grover to, forgive me for not remembering you -- and for wanting him back. To Grover, please forgive me for all of it: not remembering, abandoning, not missing, all of it until last night when I remembered how my drinking affected so many -- including knitted Grovers who deserved so much more love. To Super Grover, for what I'm sure you will feel; that I love another Grover better. To myself for all of it. Perhaps, if it was meant to be, knitted Grover might come back to me.

 If you know me and the Grover of which I speak -- and have a better memory than I -- I would appreciate very much seeing old knitted Grover again.

So I have this new thing... See it April 13

Yes, so I'm a member of Finest City Improv's Silent Majority.  No, we're not that silent.  You'll see.
You can read about our first show, Sat. April 13th at 8:30 p.m., right here.

The Art of Indian Beading

Can you even call it that?

I no longer have any desire to learn The Art of Indian Beading.  I remember learning, in a film strip or 16mm film in grade school, that the Indian (can I even say that?) -- OK Native American -- artists who did the beading purposely made errors in their beaded things because to be perfect would offend the Gods.

Bullshit!

There is no way to be perfect!  It took me three hours to do one silly bracelet and I didn't offend the Gods about fifty times.

Nine strings as thin as human hair!

Hell, setting the loom up took about 45 minutes.  It wasn't the loom itself it was the thread that had to be thin enough to fit the teeny tiny beads.  And the needle was so thin.  Let's just say I screwed one so badly it can't even be recycled.  OK, I can't find it.  I'm hoping it isn't embedded in the carpet.

Then, once you have all the threads separated, you have to put the beads on one row at a time and follow a chart putting one bead of one color followed by another bead of another color.  The mad styles were far beyond my comprehension and ability to concen-- look shiny objects!  I did one with 26 rows and just made my pattern of letters.

And it was hell!

OK, strings as thin as MY hair.

And I did one row that was so bad I thought I'd have to go back -- you see it's all like -- oh shit, just believe me that people have to be crazy to get good at this shit and I don't have the patience, eyesight and back strength to get through more than what I did.

Which sucked like a Hoover Deluxe.

Speaking of sucking, I'm pretty sure I inhaled more than one of those tiny little beads.  The box says eight and up but children of all ages are going to suck a dozen or so beads up their noses just because you have to get so close to them to get them on that jenky needle.

Not a cupcake with Jimmies.

Yes, thanks for asking, I do have about seventy tiny holes in my fingers and one in my lower lip. I was a quick maneuver away from sewing a bead into my left nostril.

I placed the beads on the top of my wife's cream jar, which was indented -- the only artistic thing I did the whole time.  Yes, I spilled them -- many times.  I spilled a bead or two every time I dipped the evil needle into the concoction to gather the right combination of colored beads.  (Can I even say that?).  And I spilled the entire load five more times.  So I'm guessing I spilled more beads than I wove into the Nightmare Catcher, as I've come to call it.

Then!  After you finish.  And your back hurts like Manifest Destiny, the instructions call for you to untie the strands and tie each vertical string to the last horizontal string and -- That's when I said fuck the fuck out of this fucking fucker.

But I have a friend with a daughter who might like to do this.  Good luck getting those beads out of your carpet.  Here's the finished product.

Anyone who finds they love Indian Beading.