Blog #100!!!

To comiserate my 100th blogging, I would like to thank all of you for your reading and support, when you gave it. It's both cool and weird to think that people are even moderately interested in what are, by own admission, intermittently banal ramblings. But hey, why not share some of my knowledge for the big 100 spot?

Things I Have Learned

1. Never start blogging.
2. If you do, unhinge your mind enough to realize that everyone, even people you like, may read something about themselves. You don't have to say everything that is on your fingers, but it makes it more entertaining.
3. This is the most passive-aggressive, bullcrap way to resolve differences, other than ignoring the target of your anger after 3rd period French.
4. Whatever you Are will be made clear in time. Facades never last, your true nature will come through. Maybe shinier, duller, angrier, or happier than you're pretending. So be yourself from the get-go, or keep up with your prescriptions.
5. If you're wondering when to introduce fisting, it is NOT "3-Mississippi."
6. I've had people come and go from my life, and I learned quite a few lessons about people. Refer to my point #4 above.
7. If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, get a no-contact order.
8. It takes a hell of a lot of strength to walk away from something, and about 100-times more strength to advance on it. Sometimes, walking away IS advancing. Think about it. Then write me and tell me what the hell that means.
9. You can get a house with no money down! If you can, do that NOW before the rates go back up.
10. Sometimes when you do the right thing, afterwards, you don't feel so great. I suggest being at peace with yourself and your decision, or upping your fiber intake.
11. There's a good 25% of my comedy brain dedicated to high-brow dick&fart material. I pray that I never lose it.
12. If you don't have anything nice to say, blog it.
13. Having integrity, in the long run, is a great way to protect your reputation, and in some cases, your clean STD record.
14. Life really ain't nothing but bitches and money.
15. In a life where we all carry some baggage, beware of emotional pack-rats.

I suppose I could sit here all day and tell you about what I've learned this year, but that could go on for like 3-4 more points.

Dropping The Bomb
Perspective. Perception. Persimmon. Found of Def-Jam Records Russell Simmons. Richard Simmons. Richard Harris. Harrison Ford. Fart noise, and cue the laugh track.

Perspective and Perception, the Yin and Yang to my emotional Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker. Er... yeah, stick with me. Perspective, a point of view. Perception, your judgment of a point of view. Realism and Surrealism. I'm a realist to the core. I'd rather be told the straight dope from somebody, but f*ck if most people know the straight dope. They rarely give you a truly honest statement. It's going to be tainted by their own perception, and it skews both your and their perspectives.

For example, if you think that people are always looking out for you, you'll be appreciative of friends who pull you aside and say "Not to break up the ensemble, but your shirt doesn't match the booger hanging from your nose." Maybe they've tried to get your attention with a few mimed nose-clearing techniques from across the juice bar. Or maybe they just ran into you and they want to make sure you aren't going to be embarrassed meeting new people with a jumper on the ledge. You have the right to present your best self to the world, and your pal has helped you do just that. Blow your nose, then thank them.

Now flip the scenario, emotionally. Let's say your friend has a sensitive, if not properly calibrated, emotional Geiger counter. They think most things said to them are there to hurt their feelings, so they have a bit of a lead wall up between themselves and a world they see as radioactive. Telling them they may want to grab a tissue is seen as a personal attack, a flaw-finding mission, checking for boogers of mass embarrassment.
Trust issues, intimacy issues, growing a tail issues, the world is out to hurt them! First of all, you didn't do this to them. They were in a test range long before they flew onto your radar. Second, as much as you may like or even love them, it's going to be VERY hard for you to get through that wall of theirs. They may leave the door unlocked, but if you approach it they'll run to lean against it, thinking you are pulsing with radioactive nose-bats, and asking themselves over and over "Friend or Brain-loving Zombie?" It's best to let the half-life run its course and passively observe them through the viewing window. Especially with that thing in their nose.

SWEET
Mary Kay Letourneau is out of jail today! I'm way too old for her. She's a seriously messed up woman, there's something weird there. It's like some perverted "Highlander," traveling across the ages to carry the seed of a drug-using half-wit, Vili "Little Bunny" Fuulau, who's been fired from numerous Fast Food jobs. Who the F gets fired from fast food? You just don't show up, you don't hang in there and dare them to fire your visor-wearing retardedness. Even the kid with the extra chromosome can hold a job in fast food!

Experts worried that the encounter would cause a landslide of life problems for the young teacher-f*cker. He's also experimented with drugs & alcohol, fathered two daughters with Mary Kay, and spent time in a psychiatric treatment center. Remember, he's from Burien. They think you're gay if you don't have two kids by Senior Prom. He's normal, especially for a kid who's dad wasn't around and who's mom never disciplined him. Public education didn't fail him, birth control did.

I'm out. See you in Lake Stevens this Saturday
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Take Me Home

See My New Blog About My Dad (heads-up, it's not about comedy)

Why I Can't Stand Boston Ron and No-Makeup Sandie

1) He whistles:  Nothing in particular, just making noise to make noise.
2) He desk-drums with one hand and a writing implement:  Nothing you would recognize, like "You Say It's Your Birthday" or the opening solo from "Hero" by the Foo Fighters.  Noise for the sake of noise.
3) He speaks in hyperbolic analogies:  In the past 3 weeks, he has equated negotiating software agreements with:
     a)  Bringing down the Berlin Wall
     b)  Fighting in the streets of Iraq
     c)  Removing cancerous growths from your heart
     d)  Buying Happy Meals
There is no correlation to which analogy is delivered to which person, so a guy from India could hear the Happy Meal spiel even though they don't eat beef.  See, Boston Ron's a f*cking GENIUS, people. You are not on his wavelength.  He's an Analogy Savant!
4) That motherf*cking WHISTLING
5) Speakerphone Usage:  Leaving his door open, anywhere between 10 and 50 people could hear every word of his conversations.  I've taken to sitting in his office while he's on the phone.  Hell, I'm hearing it anyway, may as well get front row for the show.
6) His Open Door Policy:  It's always open, even if he's talking to an impotant client or lambasting someone for using a more poignant analogy than his.  People overcame the need for constantly open doorways by inventing the door.  Quickly following the door? KNOCKING.  Close it, leave it closed.  Stew in your own gas.  Shut up.
7) He is painfully short:  The guy's 5'3", tops.  He walks really fast because it makes his legs look longer.  To me it looks like he's saying to himself "Too short to live, too fast to die" or "Short man, short pants."  Over and over.  He's a bulldog of a human, and by that I mean he resembles the move where a guy tucks his party bits back between his legs, and we're looking at it from behind.  WHOA-HO HOOOOO Terrier Ron.  Imagine Fred Flintstone and Cousin Eddie from "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" going double-team on Roseanne.  The baby is in the office behind me.

Sandie:
1)  This chick looks like Ron, but with breastfeeding-deflated cans and a penchant for pastel capris and floral shirts, just this side of Hawaiian-femme.
2)  She has the most annoying laugh in the world.  It makes Fran Drescher's sound like angels humming "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," to your mouth and suffocate you.  And...
3)  She thinks EVERYTHING is funny, which means she has a sense of humor perfect for being dense to the feelings of others.  Oh she knows when to order a 6-foot sub and can really coordinate a potluck, which matters most to my checkbook, but gawd forbid she not quote Monty Python three times a day.

Sandie, Ron, we get it.  You're both short.  You're both not funny.  You're both too loud.  IN fact... I've never seen the two of you in the same room at the same time... 

Laters, masturb@tors,
Geoff

Take Me Home

In Case Anyone Asks...
 
I first began performing stand-up because I thought I could do it.  I saw the local scene, TV and the like, and figured I could make people laugh.  Turns out I was right.  I didn't get into it after seeing local shows and think "Yeah, that guy's funny.  I want to be his friend.  I bet he can get me gigs in Wenatchee for $75!!!"

I continue to perform because I like to do so, I like the challenge of writing something new and honing it to be a perfectly worded, totally unique statement of my idea of "funny."  I like hearing people laugh at something I wrote.  I like that there are people I know personally who are 100 times funnier than I am, yet they remain humble in their own existence.  I like that a couple of times I have resolved differences with my peers face-to-face, like adults.  That shows a respect for each other.  And if there's someone I can't stand to be around and they're a pain in my ass, I let them know, and if they don't move, I do. 

I'm not in this to rub shoulders with comedy-famous comedians.  I could really give a crap what any other monologist thinks of me, but it's nice that they respect me.  I'm not in this to be loved.  There's a lot of superfluous bull that I wade through every time I'm in a club, like second-hand smoke - waving frantically just makes it swirl about and I look stupid.  I can stay away from it, but if I want inside, it's gonna be there.  I'm in this because I fell in love with it, and I want to make an ASSLOAD of money for me efforts.  In the end, Funny Wins.

Punchline:  I am in this for me, because of something inside that drives me to it.  And there is not a club owner, a fire hazard, a headliner, a handicap, a hack, or a harlot that could keep me away from doing it.  I'll find a place to do it, always, as long as I'm making people laugh more than not. 

Take Me Home