I love to juggle.  I’m self-taught, actually.  I got one of those Klutz books and it really worked.  I started out with three, like everybody else, and I moved up to clubs.  Torches are essentially a club.  Dabbled in rings, but I never really liked them.  I guess that’s what kept me from going to the big numbers.  You ever see somebody juggling, like, 17 things, I’m betting they’re rings.  I have never been able to figure out why.  So I went more with my routine.  Yeah, I can do five really well, and I know when to stop at six so they really don’t catch on that I’m not that good.  I do six with three in each hand, really working independently of each other.  And, I have to admit, that’s the limit.  And I’m okay with that.  Sure, even if I got seven, there’ll always be that guy who yells, “Yeah, but can you do eight?”  If I could do 79, there’d be somebody yelling for 80.  Probably the same guy.  So I just do this thing where I tell the audience I’m going straight to juggling eight balls.  Work it up a bit.  And then I juggle the pool balls.  Eight balls?  Ya get it?  It’s bad, but that’s my whole routine:  Really campy humor.  Bad puns, like “Chokin’ the chicken,” when I juggle rubber chickens, and then juggling rubber eggs.  It’s really stupid.  But it’s fun.  The crowds really enjoy it.  I can work most every weekend.  I do a lot of parties.  I’m a regular at a couple of pizza joints.  I do fairs in the summer and the monthly art walk.  Any time I want I can throw a hat on the curb and make 20 to 30 dollars for maybe 2 hour’s work.  I do that about once a week.  I do it because I really like it.  I really like showing off.  I like working a crowd.  I love to hear them Ohhh and Ahhh, but mostly I love to hear them laugh.  You ever have that feeling?  That it’s you that’s making somebody’s night better?  That maybe you might be the high point of somebody’s day?  Maybe even somebody’s week?  It’s kind of humbling.  But it’s what I live for.  I love it.  See, the thing is, it just doesn’t pay enough.  Try as I can, I still can’t afford to live.  I can’t pay rent.  I can’t buy food.  I can’t buy fuel for my torches.  So I gotta have another job.  That’s okay, though, I guess.  Lots of people have two jobs.