The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking

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Friday, July 23, 2004

Totally Grossed Out

Neighbor lady at work is eating yogurt.  I know she is because she's been scraping the sides of the cup for a good 10 minutes, and I swear I can hear every molecule of spittle in her mouth tear apart, strand from strand as she opens her mouth the glu-glu-glorp down another plastic spoonful of what is probably some really cheap, disgusting pool of acidophilus and live cultures.  Maybe her yeast is up.  Yogurt can help balance a woman's body, as woman's bodies are delicately balanced organisms designed for life-giving, nurturing, and not being funny.

I know we all gotta shove food into the old snack hole and I don't know many people who look really attractive doing it.  But sitting here listening to the feeding of a snackpack-focused, cardigan-loving, earth momma with a penchant for arm-waxing and talking to bark, damned, it's all I could do to not force myself upon a baby seal on her desk just to hear something other than the slap, smack, smap of the inside of her chomp bucket.  That's why horses wear feedbags, because they have long faces and can't use a spoon for snackpacking.
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Dude, Where's My Career?

I think it's a good thing that I'm single right now.  I have a lot of things going on, from my job to the new show to a diabolical plan at work to gas my cube neighbors out.  I've developed a keen knack for being able to do 4 hours of work in just under 1 week.  Do you understand what kind of commitment it takes to "playing the part" of a Go Team Go!'er while being emotionally detached from all around you?  Of course you do!  You watch TV.  It's like that.  I set the mental VCR and have therefore lost any and all intent to stay up with the current events of a floundering company.  Actually, here's what we're doing in the next month:
July 30: SHORTS DAY!  That's right, we can all wear shorts to work on the hot day, if we want to.  This totally underlies the fact that 50% of the people here wear shorts all of the time, and those shorts aren't up to dress code.  Yesterday some pile was wearing basketball shorts and a tank top at his desk, and no, he ain't no baller.  Last month "Wacky Hat" day took the place of shorts Day.  Next month it's "Favorite Team Jersey" day, then FINALLY we have Tolo. 
 
Aug 6:  Employee Appreciation Day!  There's going to be a giant BBQ over in Redmond to celebrate and thank all employees of Schmireless for all the hard work they've put in while the Officers of the company flew it into the side of a mountain.  That's okay, because the magical country of "Offshore" has supplied us with a rescue team to manage all systems that we "Onshore" people could manage , were it not for our childish needs of sleep, food, and regular bathing.  They don't sustain on things like that in Offshore, and they'll work for metaphorical chickpeas (which is what's been in my 401K the past 6 weeks) so the tradeoff seems good.  Offshore, by the way, is a nation full of people who observe a deep reverence for the Cow, seeing it as sacred, while our event planners see it as perfectly delicious to serve to them at the BBQ.  DO YOU. UNDERSTAND. WHAT IT MEANS. TO WORK HERE?   If they were to eat their god, can you imagine how powerful they may become?  You thought Curry had overwhelming power.  In the meantime: Surrounded by the blind leading the oblivious.
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I'm out.
Thanks for reading my schit.

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Tuesday, July 20, 2004

What a Week
 
Last week I lost my cell phone and my girlfriend and I broke up.  Work sucked.  But comedy RULED.  What do I have?
I have a job, comedy, and just got my cell phone replaced.  I sat down and recounted my last relationship and found a lot of things I could've/should've done differently.  But there were two people involved, so I think that even if I had done those things differently I would only have felt a wee bit better after our break-up.  This is not high school nor early 20's.  I'm a grown man with skills and a fair degree of self-enlightenment.

In other words, I'm beyond stalking or harrassing her.  For crying out loud, she lives 75 miles away.  I ain't burnin' no gas without a little some'in'-some'in' waitin' fo' me. 
And if you want some real honesty, keep readin' this blog.  Brutality awaits.

 
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