What You Are Laughing At

Go Up Early, Drink Up Late

I haven't much enthusiasm for comedy right now. Rephrase... here...
I love comedy. I love performing. It's how I express myself, looking at the idiosyncracies of idiocratic idiots and realizing that on any given minorly hungover, underfed, vitamin deficient day, I AM that idiot. I am no worse than the best around, but I'm way better than the worst.

This is what's up with me. I did this contest where I knocked out 19 sets in 9 days, and a total of 23 sets in 21 days total. That's a lot of time listening to yourself talk. I was on auto-pilot for delivery, but my heart was totally in the moment of the Finals week. Fully in-tune with the audience, riding the wave of my delivery and confident that I was going to get both cheeks into every punchline I swung at. I was parking punchlines in the cheap seats, leading the wave, AND bringin' hot dogs to your grill, you gifted little creature, you. I was in it. I was on it. I f*cking BROUGHT IT, I dug a hole, I planted it, it rooted and grew to give you shade and a place to hang a tire swing from.

Now I just wanna sit under the tree and hope that I get Newton'ed by a comedy apple. That may very well happen, but the meat isn't cooking while I sit in shade and anticipate in-spur-ay-shun. It's time I get back to the kitchen, bring forth the squashes and the sauces, brulee the creme, and fire up the grill. I'm doing that tonight. I'll be working on new recipes. I'm inspired, focused, and getting back to Fearless. I hope you brought a bib and a bucket. The main course is gonna stick to your ribs, full carb, full fat, full flavor. You don't like what's on the menu? Fine, eat from here.
Otherwise, grab the vino and loosen your belts.

Dig in.
Geoffers

p.s. YES, I am in counseling. Don't worry, all's well. I'll write and talk more later. In the meantime, enjoy your baggage.

Take Me Home