Here's Your Post
If anyone's wondering what's up this week, I'll tell ya… JACK. Alright? I have a job that me no like, and I sit here and make monkey sounds all friggin' day. It annoys some people, and if they ask why I'm doing it? I say "because I don't know how to do a parrot." Then I follow them to their office or cube and rip off a ghost of breakfast past. That's what they get for coming into my world. Stink.
I hate hearing the song "Happy Birthday" being sung. It's another reminder of two things: One, we all get older. And Two: Nobody is giving me anything. Birthdays don't really matter after the age of 21, or 18 if you're a fan of the Olsen Twins.
I matter. I matter a lot to a fair number of people. That's important to remember. And even if there were fewer people to whom I mattered, I would matter to me. If you're reading this, in a small way, you matter to me. Take that with you, for what it's worth, and never forget that somebody somewhere is such a pee-hole that they matter to no one. Never be that person.
Almost zero motivation to be at work today. If I could pick something to do, it'd be this stuff, in no perpendicular order: Perform on the Tonight Show; do circuit workout of pushups, pull-ups, bicycle crunches, and eat from a tube of cookie dough; punch Bam Margera in the neck with a Ford; buy a Mercedes E55, navy blue, light blue interior; It; hang out with Jake Johannsen, Marc Maron, and Dave Attell; look into the face of a child and say "Dear little one, look to the sky and aim high for your dreams, and know this: When you look up there, Life will kick you in the nuts."
It's odd to hear from others that they enjoy reading this here blog. It doesn't in the least frighten me, although it does make me feel as if I'm writing for an audience, at times. It makes me think that I shouldn't hold back all the time, say what I feel here, and do what it is that I want to do. But when it comes down to it, the truth of writing was passed on to me a long time ago. This is the truest element of writing in any form: Sell out and make a shitload of cash, then tell your "audience" to bite it. (Thanks Mom!)
That's all I got for now. I'm actually a little sunny today, too, so let's hope my serotonin kicks up soon, or there will be Hal to pay.
Take Me Home
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.
