The Proopster, the late night, and the train ride: A perspective.

Greg Proops was one funny guy last night. You'd think, having seen him on Whose Line so many times, that he's not that serious or bitter. He's just a happy-go-lucky funny guy. He's not. He's bitter, disturbed, and had this line, which I absolutely treasure, regarding Sting's new autobiography:

"...it sucks Satan's asshole with a goofy straw.... in prison."

Yeah, it's a little graphic, but it's still funny. He's got loads of jokes that are rather borderline in taste, which is something I like in a comedian. He was very happy to impart his feelings on things like GW and the war in Iraq, too. He's got a lot of passion, and he's damn funny about it.

This was just the beginning of the night, mind you. He was on for almost 2 hours, sure, but it was worth it. Afterwards, the five of us(I felt like such a macdaddy, hanging out with 4 girls) went to Corcoran's for a couple drinks(I said I would have one and leave, but stayed for 3), and some conversation, specifically love-life conversation, and finally headed out around 12. Then, it was time for the cab home, after dropping off two of my friends at yet another bar, I headed to my local watering hole for "a night cap."

Frankly, I should have just gone home. Now I'm that extra half-hour tired that I didn't need to be.

The odd, probably bad thing about the whole commute this morning is that whenever I'm more than say 7 minutes late to work is the day that I run into my boss in the elevator. It's a weird kismut thing, methinks.

I dunno. I need a nap.