What You Are Laughing At

Before I Get Outta Here

Hey, I lost my cell phone yesterday. It sucks. My cell phone is like a satellite-fed IV of security. To quote, and not STEAL FROM, Marc Maron, "Don't worry, I'll get Jewy in a second." No, wait, it was, "What am I going to do? The satellite won't find me, and someone I probably don't want to talk to can't call me!" At this time of day I usually get calls from one person who probably won't be calling me for a while for reasons I ain't gonna be discussing up on this blog, so y'all bettah just get out ma FACE widdat.
And PigTit Forbid that I actually remember phone numbers. 90% of the time over the past 5.5 years I've been dialing and receiving calls by name. Who changed their name to 1-206-255-5551? Weirdos.

I still have my home phone, but I pay like 10-cents a minute for long distance and since I live in Kenmore EVERYTHING, from my friends to my dreams, is long distance. Luckily I have a calling card with long distance minutes on it. Best present you can give a guy in jail... what? Nevermind. I have like 600 of those left. Better dig that out of the coupon envelope.

Outlaw store-specific discount cards. Drop your price. DROP IT. NOW. Refer to my earlier blog on Debit Card readers for why I think any more cards will just halt civilization.

If you wanna reach me, send me an email at GeoffLottRules@yahoo.com. If you know my home# call me there. Make sure I haven't gone crazy in all of the, you know... SILENCE. Take care, sweet little freedom turtles.

Oh, and damn near everyone I work with carries on conversations that seem to come right out of the pages of Eddie Bauer. Wow, Curt, you and your wife went to your brother's house and did What, you say? You had a... hmm, a Bar Be Cue? My my my, that IS exciting. Is this the brother with one testicle or the one who's girlfriend f*cked a tow-truck driver in your tent last Memorial Day? Sorry, I shouldn't pry, but you're f*cking boring, you boring f*cking bore. And nobody cares that you named your son Icarus, except your son for the next 14 years. YOUR HEAD REMINDS OF A PENIS. Which reminds me, your eyes are too close together.

And short Boston guy? SHUT YOUR F*CKING DOOR. I think I'm going to come sit in your office whenever you are on the phone. It's so loud anyway, I may as well have a front row seat for your "banalogies." WOW, you equated the negotiation of software contracts with the conflict in Iraq. You've offended not only whomever you're conversating with, but also the parents of every person, regardless of nation of origin, and the kind folks at "Learn To Complete A Sentence NOW!" instructional software. F*CK, dude, you shouldn't be on Xanax. You ain't fun when your chems are balanced. Get the stomach flu and shit yourself comatose.

YES, in fact, I DO need a nap.
Bye!
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