Wherein I Speak With the Creaky Voice of an Old Woman

The price of missing a loan payment deadline is this: You have to read my blog. 

Best investment I've ever made. And the cheapest interest rate you'll ever pay.

So, about your career.

Have I told you how funny Kl__s* is? So funny my teeth hurt. Kl__s is mastered, and can appear almost without preparation. You've nailed him, and he's forever yours.

So, for your consideration, this bit of counsel: You mustn't gain a reputation as a one-trick pony.

Oh, this is fun, this advice-giving. Watch me natter on:

Your USP†, your most salable talent, is autobiographical story-telling. It ought to be your stock in trade. In fact, you're so very, very good at it that you should consider keeping an index card in your pocket‡ for jotting down reminders of stories. Memory is fallible. Your stories are more valuable to your career than gold, and you must guard them by writing them down.

Because you're on the other side of your face when you talk, let me tell you what I observe about your humor. You've got a million funny stories. (Tales of this family's dysfunction alone would merit an hour-long show.) And the more excitable you are when you tell 'em, the funnier they get.

That may be the reason Kl__s works. Perhaps he's your anti-hero, the inverse of your excitable funny man. But both men are hysterical. Don't lose your balance.

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* - Note my Dickensian proclivity for anonymizing this blog by substituting underscores for alphanumerics. Think the NSA will catch on?

† - Unique Selling Proposition. You know that term, yes?

‡ - See? I told you I'm old (note the URL, above, which I see -- now -- may read as either "Because I'm old" or "Because I Mold." They both work.) But index cards are your grandfather's sworn key to success. Ask him about it.