This is the part of me that lives outside the persona and the brands: how I actually look at life. Sharp, fearless, a little dangerous, and funny because it's true.
I don't call myself a comedian. People just keep telling me I should be one — usually right after someone else swears I should've been a lawyer. They're clocking the same thing: I can't not say the true thing, and I can make the case for it.
So this is that voice with no filter on it — the observations, the hot takes, the stuff that's funny precisely because it's real. Raised on the fearless ones: truth-tellers who made you laugh and flinch in the same breath, satire that held a mirror to the whole circus, and horror that knew it was hilarious.
Two decades of meetings that could've been an email — and the faces nobody admits they're making.
The five accents I keep on the ring of keys, and exactly when each one comes out.
Louisiana raised me; the Northwest confused me. Field notes from both.
Dating, dignity, and the comedy of knowing exactly what you will not be doing.
Sexy, plus-sized, and funnier than the room expects. The confidence is the punchline.
Movie or game, I'm yelling at the screen — and I'd have survived. A running autopsy of every bad decision from the haunted house to Raccoon City.
Short sets, real takes, and the occasional horror-movie review nobody asked for. Pull up a seat.