Sorry, I'm All Out Of Rat's Asses
My gawd... last night I had one of the best sets of my life at The Moonraker in Kent, WA. This is a bar that knows how to do comedy. People pay a couple bucks to get in after 8pm. The soundsystem is great. the room is big. They did a great job. And they said the 3 little words every comedian loves to hear:
"We Pay Cash" AND HOSANNAS RANG DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS!
Tonight I'm working Danny's Campus in Everett. They have a key element to them that will make the show fun. "THEY PAY CASH." OH CRAP, is the IRS reading this?
Wednesday night I had my lungs handed to me by whatever alien spawn illness I've contracted from Hoorleen McCracken. Transfers happen between how many hugs, high-fives, and handies? All I know is that it's about 10 days of the phlegmish inquisition, and I'm about to give in. Robitussin is a MF'er, too, I've ingested from the incidental chew spit-can and felt better about the effect on my body. And I have all the bedside manner for myself of Buffalo Bill in the "Lambs Be Quiet." 'IT STOPS COUGHING OR IT GETS THE PEPPER SPRAY. IT STOPS COUGHING OR IT GETS THE TABASCO HIGH-COLONIC.' I'm a total homeopath.
If you want to see why people hate the Church, check out this story. Besides all the kid-touching that the priests were up to, and it goes further than we know, now the Church has negated this little girl's communion due to a technicality in the wafer department. LIKE GOD GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE WAFER!!! I hope they're happy... they just created one less Christian and one more Libertarian.
Not funny. Better go before this gets worse.
Love you. Touch the goods.
G
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
Geoff Lott: Comedian, Writer, Philosoteur. I am here to amuse you, not entertain you. If not now, later. If not you, somebody else. If you can't laugh at yourself, that's just fine, too. I will do it for you.
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