Mike Birbiglia

Secret Public Friends!

Can't thank you enough for coming to the first 10 dates on my tour. Every show has been sold out or at least "looks" sold out. (Shhh...It's all about perception!) And between Toledo, Milwaukee, Chicago, Tarrytown, Boston, and Philly " it should end with a bang. Or at least a serious makeout session. Get your tickets now because they'll either sell out or "look" sold out. (don't take your chances with this one.)

But what's really exciting is that this whole tour is leading up to my New York City Theater Debut of "Sleepwalk with Me." The show is the funniest and tightest it's ever been and you can bring your whole family. (I only curse once and it is so fucking justified.) So get your tickets now. By the way, all the seats are amazing, so don't worry about getting the expensive tickets unless you're into lighting money on fire.

So before the journal, here are some quick hits:

- We still want your sleep stories! Look at these and email us here with yours.- Glossy aluminum Sigg bottles are on clearance! Why? Not sure. Ask Joe.- If you want to join the "Sleeptalkers" who spread the word about the show, email me.

Now, a peek into my secret-est of journal entries...

Dear Journal,

I just got back from the first 2 weeks of my "Sleeping" Tour. The first show that was held in a chapel at the University of Vermont. It was the closest I've ever come to becoming a priest. And it was all that I had dreamed it would be.

When I was a kid, my mother wanted me to be a priest, but I always felt that church was kind of awkward. I remember taking the communion wafer, and the elderly priest having hand tremors, and he missed my mouth and it fell on the ground. I was like, "Oh no." It was as if we were in a seafood restaurant, and a waiter had dropped three baked-stuffed lobsters on the floor. But the priest was on top of it. He just picked it up and popped it in his own mouth. Like he knew that Jesus had a five-second rule.

The other thing that struck me as odd was when you drank wine out of that chalice. Because when I was growing up was with the AIDS scare, people stopped sipping wine from the same cup. Which is kind of weird, because if you got AIDS from Jesus, you would totally get into heaven. Jesus would be like, "Oh, my bad, bro. I totally gave you AIDS."

As a kid, I knocked out all the sacraments. I went to confession since I was 11 - which had to be a real snooze fest for the priest. "Ok. So you stole a Jose Canseco rookie card from your brother and when your mom told you to go to bed, you stayed up late and watched Alf? Anything at least a little exciting?" In retrospect, maybe we should have been turning the tables on some of those priests in confession. "So father, what have you have been up to?

But what struck me most about church was how much laughter priests got for jokes that weren't very strong. A priest would be like, "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and...John Boy!" and people would be like "Father Patterson is hilarious!" I thought, "If he's a priest, I should be a priest. I'm way funnier than him. Plus, I'm never going to have sex anyway, so what are the drawbacks?" Besides, when you're a priest you can stay stuff like, "Jesus fought the dinosaurs and won" and "God wants us to get rid of the estate tax and let Lehman Brothers run Social Security," and everyone's like, "Amen, Father Birbiglia."

So this week I kicked off my tour and found myself on the altar. For the first time in my life I can say I killed at church. For a moment I was the priest my mother had always wanted. And I was way funnier than Father Patterson.

And that concludes this week's entry in my secret public journal.