You Can't Always Want What You Get

I realize, fully, that if I want something in life I need to focus like a frat-boy on a blacked-out sorority pledge, and go for Life's bra-strap with ferretous abandon. I have goals, real goals, goals that make people reassess their own, and that make women say "That sounds soooo sexy. What planet will THAT happen on?" Yeah, I dream big. I dream frigging huge.

Ya know why?

Because if I don't, I will be stuck in corporate whirlpools and carpools and basketball office pools the rest of my working life. And I'll be DAMNED if that's gonna happen on my watch. The only corporate involvement I want in my life is their sponsorship of my national tour someday. I think it would be perfec to have Schmireless sponsor it. Then whenever I didn't feel like performing I'd just walk to a dark part of the stage and drop the mic. Sorry, my punchlines are weaker here. And God knows that I'm pretty much fed up with corporate life, he said, filling out an on-line application for GreenBoobs Coffee.

You have to have a goal, and that goal must be backed by a DESIRE to achieve. And that's where a lot of people get lost. Whoa, Achieve? You mean, goal-reached achievement? Yes, a desire, unwavering and fanatic, to see your goal through to fruition. To do that I will have to work my ass to the bone... oy... in order to get what I want. The key is to stay positive. See, a lot of negative feelings come through when a dude comes across a setback. But I'll look that setback over, think to myself what I will do differently next time, learn what I can from it, then call the folks for bail money.

Oh man, and if I find that I end up blocking my own myostatin like that freaky muscle kid, I'm-a FREAK. Myostatin is a hormone that blocks muscle production in the body, and this baby was born with out it. He's already got only 50% of the bodyfat of a normal baby, and last night was found outside eating midgets. Turn about is fair play. Okay, so $500,000 a year from comedy and no myostatin. Bring it.

Off to Las Vegas. See you in 10 days with a couple of 2 day follow-ups.

Take Me Home

Comedian Up

I can't say "Cowboy Up" because I don't like snoose.
I'm finally getting close to feeling funny again. I think there are a number of changes coming my way, good ones. First of all, Shoogs B in the house Whaddup? got a jay oh bee. That doesn't affect me directly unless I don't get my tie and jacket back. TAKE OFF MY TIE AND JACKET. Right On Shoogs.

Second, I'm in a relationship with a kick-ass woman, and as it nears the 6-month mark I'm seeing some of my old habits die. Die hard, but they are making their way to the great Bad Habit bin at St. Scott Weiland de Structo's 2nd-Hand Habit Hut. I'm done with so much of the crap that happens in some emotional crossings-over. It sucks that we live a 150-mile rounder from each other, but that all goes away with a few minutes eye-to-eye. Key to making it work? At this point, for me, not f*cking it up. Swing that bat, Dr. Phil.

Third, well, I don't know here. I'm just ready to get the heck away from my job for a while. I need a week, at least. Pivot Tables suck, people. OK? They suck ass. There's no reason, really, that this company needs a pivot table of any sort. IT IS GOING TO DIE! Please get the rouge and the good jacket, let's give it a proper burial, then we can drink at the wake and lament how long it was around. Mangerially driven into the ground, and I'm paying for it everytime I roll in here at the bright hour of 9:47-ish.

Fourth, get outta there. Go have some fun.

Going to Vegas on Friday. Gonna gamble and drink drinks and not set a record for Salmonella-induced rocket vomiting.

Taters


Take Me Home