The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking

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Thursday, October 21, 2004

The Blog Next To Tony's

So Tony "Moses On JambaJuice" Moser is at it again, trying to rattle my pots and pans. Ain't gonna happen.
See, I have a secret weapon. Last week I befriended a man who shall be referred to as "Dirt McGirt," or Dirt. You may remember him as Old Dirty Bastard, or Big Baby Jesus, from The WuTang Clan. Yeah, he my boy.

So I aks Dirt, "Hey Dirt, a lot of fools are trippin' on me lately, trying to run a pace that outspeeds they own shortcomings of paranoida, disempowering, and egotisticness and trying to step on my game, numsayn motherf(beep)ker? What da f(beep)k I'm a do?"

Dirt says to me, "First off, we need to work on your vocabalary and methods of communication. Second, it's important to remember that people are the products of environments that have longs since passed by. What you see now is like the starlight you see in the night when y'all know the words and the time is right. That light you see is what burned off that star a long time ago. It's getting to you now, but it can't hurt you, enjoy the burn, bruh. Just understand that you keep your head up, and you'll see starlight, you'll see your name in lights, and sometime you see up a ho's tights, word?"

I says "Word, Dirt. Word."

And then I hit the "Next Blog" button on Tony's screen and I got THIS, which throws down on Tony and everyone else but me like you would not believe. Holy crap. Check THIS OUT!
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Take Me Home

My Non-Funny Blog.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

The Blog About Regularly Scheduled Blogging

Damn, what a week.

The Bostonian Buttplug at my work is off his head. Twice this week I've asked him to keep it down, but it's not working. His Boston RedSox are tied up in the ALCS with the Yankees, so he's strutting around like he's at least 5'5". Then the Patriots beat the Seahawks last week so he's been trying to sound like he's a proud father, but humbled all the same.
"Yeah boy, we really showed you guys what Championship football looks like."

I hate the pronouns people use when talking about sports teams. "We." I don't remember the Pats ever calling a play that went to a 5'3", 219lb fartback with emphysema and Samsonite eyebags. "You guys." Right, like the guys from Network Security suited up for the game. Right after their 2nd French Bread pizza and 4th handful of Halloween M&Ms. Then again, we got f*cked into paying for the stadium, so I think each week at least one tax-payer should be allowed to suit up and make the average pay of the team, and then take liberties with a hotel concierge.

Man, who keeps ripping in the elevator? I think it's in the metal work now.

I'm out for now.



Take Me Home

My Non-Funny Blog.