The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking

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Thursday, March 18, 2004

I Can't Tell If Those Are Horns, But That Is Some Serious Bull

Last night sucked. Major suckage. Hoover-like vacuum of fun last night. I'm fighting a cold, I got dissed on a job I applied for because I don't have enough retail experience (who thought a LACK of time folding shirts would be a negative?), had a dismal set at Pegasus (hey, let's have more talking in the side of the room, okay now the back... ridiculous), got home at a decent hour and then had a Tourette's-like phone conversation on Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Jell-O Shots between the times of 2:46am and 3:50am. Then I couldn't fall back to sleep so I had to write about all the crap I stepped in and over yesterday. I need a walk and about 250 knuckle push-ups right NOW.

My life is truly grand on an overall scale. I'm doing the best I can to just be myself. To be honest, I can be a handful. I run at about 40% of MySelf when I'm at work, and closer to 60% when I'm away from work in the real world. The moments when I'm most myself are when I have a little leeway to talk and could give a sh*t about how they feel about me. For the most part, I consider myself to be a good man. I don't have to step into the ring to feel good about myself, but when I'm in there, regardless of the opponent, I prefer bare-knuckling it. If you're gonna fight, FIGHT. Otherwise, don't waste my time. Yeah, I'm one bad white boy.

Cube neighbor is trying to remember the Scarecrow's lines from "Wizard Of Oz," and reciting them out loud. Why can't she blog like the rest of us? If she only had a blog.

And that's why I don't write blogs when I'm dehydrated.
Best be movin' on,
Geoffers

"I'm the Dude, man." ~The Dude, "The Big Lebowski"

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

I Couldn't Have Said It Better, But if I Tried To I'd Likely Be Boring You With Too Many Words Anway, So Let's Just Say That It's Better To Shorten Up What You're Saying and Get To The Point

People can talk a LOT about very little far too often. I'm not good with small talk. I can do it, but I'm perhaps a deeper thinker or not as up-to-speed on a topic as the other person who is introducing it. Maybe I'm just an a-hole. I don't think that's it, though. I like it when people get to the point and stop wasting my time blabbing about a topic with no direction. I can only hear so many stories about Dina at work. Most Dina's are of a questionable moral fiber anyway. Until the day we find out that Dina decided to go to Holland for the final surgery in her trans-gendering, let's save the Dina stories. What can you tell me about YOU?

If you're gonna talk to me, be honest, be direct, be funny, but have a point. Don’t ramble. When I'm 95 and lying on the floor of my mansion, bleeding from a back wound after being shot by a jealous 19 year-old lover, I'm gonna need back those 3 minutes you stole talking about your pants-loading kids to crawl to the phone and brag about my exploits to 911. The only thing in my life that should ever last longer than it needs to is the act of "Totally Doin' It." Other than that, don't waste my time.

And if I sound like an a-hole for mentioning this, the door is behind you. Bye. NEXT.

Speaking of "Next"...
No Need For Undershorts

I'm in the midst of an "All Employee TeleConference" with the Executives of this company. The title of this entry refers to the lack of testosterone-generators they have. After a year of lying and back-pedaling we are now going to be updated on "Regulatory Transition Tasks," "Milestones in the Merger Process." Those are terms that big-wigs use instead of saying "Selling Out," and "Next Week? Golf in Hawaii!" I swear this guy just said "I hope you're all watching and voting on American Idol." This company sponsors the text-messaging voting of American Idle, and that's about the biggest offer we have. (btw, the only woman I'd lay an angry hand on is Ryan Seacrest.)

Some new warty toad is talking about our network quality improvements. If anyone needs me I'll be lowering the life raft, as I can see "Integrity Island" from here, I'm rowing on. All I can hope is to get there before the rats do. And some guy on the call just called the CEO "Judas." That guy is my hero of the day.
Tall Double-Karma No Foam Geoff Lott, eh?

Yesterday afternoon, 2:47-ish, I ran to the community kitchen for a cup of coffee. The work coffee is a few steps above the water used to rinse the socks of gangrelous feets in Viet Nam, or was it HempFest... I was there, dude... I saw some sh*t... but I needed a bump so I dropped a half-cup of shiz in my mug. Half-Caff, Half-Decaff.

The Caff side of this equation went as such... I took a half-cup, then another guy who hates working here but is chasing a caffeine horse with a DayQuil Monkey on its back... scratch that... this fella comes in and gets maybe 1/3rd of a cup before the well runs dry. I figure, hey, he took the last of it, so he's on new pot patrol. Sorry fella, that's the way it perks sometimes. These little moments of others being screwed without my intent are things that put a skip in my step and footlong in my grocery bag. Deal with it.

This morning I walk in and need, which isn't a strong enough word, REQUIRE... DEMAND... whatever I gotta have the coffee. So's I hit the button for some Caff... and all I get are 4 drops. BAMMO, Karma rears it's lovely head. And folks, if making a fresh pot of coffee not even 24 hours after the last one ran dry is my Karma, I'm running naked in it's sprinkler of Cosmic Justice, free of clothing, covered in SPF 50, and more lit than Vegas on New Year's.

I'm off to change bulbs.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Take That Nonsense Outside

Be it the moon, my cube neighbor's 37 minute conversation on trust-issues with the family cats, or that I'm having my period, I am in one of the worst moods of my life. I'm hungry, I haven't worked out in a week, and if Square Neigh-Bore doesn't stop giggling at every other sentence that comes out of their mouth I'm gonna play a CD by a local comic who has opened for Johnny Mathis and laughs at his own jokes. You can't laugh at your own jokes, you may as well give yourself a nickname.

I need to go work myself into a froth with some weights or there will be some sort of punishment meted out. I didn't sleep so well last night, either, so why not throw a laugh-a-thon about crazy, I say, CRAZY cats wrestling with pillows!!! into my morning? Would anyone like to give me a wedgie? How about keying "Support The Troops" into the tailgate of my car? Unless you send me upwards of $20 today, you can kiss my honeybaked ham.

Yeah, that goes for YOU, too.

Why can't I stop crying?

Monday, March 15, 2004

Almost Tuesday
How does a day like today seem to stretch on forever, when other days skip by with nary a blink? I suppose it's for Perspective. That's a word I can't get away from lately.
Perspective.
The Flip Side. The Yang to the Yin (or Yin to...). The laughter to the tears. The humming afterglow to the walk of shame.
I'm sitting at my desk waiting for a report to draw 6 records out of 455 for one, count it, ONE entry in Excel. The first attempt took 13 minutes. I wonder if I could have done it faster with my own eyes and fingers. I'm betting that I would be a slight favorite if the data was properly arranged.
But this is perspective. For the 10 times I find my keys right away, there are 2 times that I left them on a bus in a jacket now being worn by a homeless man's 1-legged dog, "Pogo."
For all the times I've had $2000 at my disposal, I've surely been hit with an overdraft fee 7 seconds before my paycheck was automatically deposited - F*** You, Bank of American't, you diseased goat of a financial institution. For the hundreds of times I didn't get the girl I thought I wanted, I get to see her true personality and be thankful I'm not changing locks or listening to her drunk-cry into a cell phone at 4 in the morning about her ex, her dad, and a mean girl in Jr. High who just never was nice to her. (we all hope the Jr. High girl's life turned to crap, agreed?)
(17 minutes and counting on the report data retrieval)
So in Life, I have a good perspective of how things are going. I want more to my life than I currently have, but I am doing really well in the meantime. I have great friends, a few loud enemies (fear the quiet ones, they're plotting against you), and a bright future in either writing, performing, or food service.
And I live in a country where I can pursue any life I choose, just as soon as this frigging database is done.

I Wanna See Y'All On Yo' Baddest Behavior
Geoffers

"Oh my pants are half-empty!" from Grumpy Cripples, by Blaine Reeder