
I made Marty Pasko my comedy bitch one night at a comic book convention in the late-1970s or early-1980s. I could always make Marty laugh; I’m a fairly funny guy and he was a fairly easy audience, but I didn’t own him until that night when a bunch of us were gathered in somebody’s hotel room where some drinking might have been taking place, and I announced, likely apropos of nothing, that I could crack Marty up in just three random phrases.… Read the rest
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