Darlings. I thank thee for checking this out.
New Year's Eve was spent with some of my best, closest (read: They know SECRETS, and are trusted, 'cause I know SECRETS), friends, including Keem, Ali Bobba, Jen, Chili D. & Angela, and my favorite person in the whole world, Alicia. We showed up to be entertained by "Black Celebration", a Depeche Mode cover band (I love DM. What? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of me loving DM and not caring what you think), and SuperDiamond, a Neil Diamond cover band. Both bands just came out and entertained the hell outta the crowd. Lots o' fun for all. GAWSH, it was fun!
I'm in love. Real love, the kind where I am 95% myself around her (the other 5% isn't what adults do at the dinner table), and I have full perspective of how truly good, real, and beautiful this woman is. I had been jaded in relationships, hating the circling and the dance that can cumulate in a few weeks of sniping, topped off with a big floater of "F*ck You More!" I didn't really know this is what it's supposed to feel like, good and real and it's not endless hours of looking into each other's eyes. My only regret is that I did not meet her earlier in my life. BUT, I know that in the scheme that is my life, I was not ready for her until the night I met her, September 22, 2004. The best first date of my life. The best New Year's Eve of my life. The best. I have fears of course, but they're more that I will not check myself when I'm tired or hungry or stressed and be an immature ass and hurt her. Part of my growth has been in seeing when I may get assy, and heading it off at the pass, and trying to communicate it the best I can. I don't have it all figured out, I just know what NOT to do, so I will not do those things, and actively Love the best I can. Love is a verb. Did I know that?
The one resolution I really want to keep is to do More. Stave of sloth with activity, involvement, and Life, basically. I'm gonna be tired for while, but shooooooot, I may end up losing a good 304 el-beez out of the deal.
What-not
I've already done 2 sets in 2005, tonight at Giggles. First show was good, I did a joke for the second time that gets a Kirstie Alley's Muffin-sized groan bucket. It's about the Tsunami, which some ho-tard had not heard of as of last Wednesday night (how can anybody not be informed, even by accident, in this age of inundation with useless info?), and it takes a turn that is sad, challenging to the audience, and makes me laugh in a way that I know is wrong. But what's the funniest part of something to me? The subtextual references that point out truth, the perspective, the nooks and/or crannies where a light is shined... shone... pointed into and something new is seen. And I do it for all those reasons. Is it too soon? Nah. It's only gonna work for like 2 weeks anyway.
Geoff Brousseau had a great point tonight. Brousseau wanted to ask people in the audience to watch the show tonight, then watch the stand-up that fills half hours on Comedy Central. Get a perspective of comedy. Get hip to it, basically, and come out and see us. I think Seattle's crew is going to take some big steps this year. Change can be frightening, but the other side of it is usually a great set of butterfly wings, more money, better living, or even gender reassignment. (Good Luck with that, Tony!)
Don't sell yourself short. You haven't yet begun to disappoint your parents. The good thing is, you are now your own person. Get happy, and stop your pity parties, the world ain't waiting for you to start feeling better.
Happy New Year, Sweetpeas.
======================
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
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.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Thursday, December 30, 2004
2004-ever, Never Again
What a year.
But really, it's all just days to change over to keep the calendar kiosk conglomerate in business. Point taken. There were days I slept, nights that I couldn't. Days I wrote, nights I spoke. Days and nights I drank. Days and nights I wept. And it's all history.
This year has been a jump for me. I took a couple of leaps and learned a lot. A year of growth, a year of shrinkage, a year of lessons to take in and share outwards. At some point, you must give it out of love. At some point you must stop giving. At some point you should assess where you are. At some point you should keep moving and stop thinking and just Do. At some point you have to make sense of it all. At some point you may realize it will never make sense, because It simply Is. Don't try and make sense of the Komodo Dragon; just respect that it is, and hope that it lets go of your kneecap.
I am making greater strides at the moment, I feel like I'm running the last 50 meters of a mile, feet hitting the ground less often but with more force, propelling me forward, not simply guiding under me. It's like I'm powering up a hill and not looking to the summit, just slightly up so as to navigate the fallen tree, the boulder, the cougar WHOA shit a cougar. It sees me, but it's not moving. If it does, I'm not waiting for it to attack, I must move towards it now, or be forever tracked by it, waiting for me to slip and it's then on me.
This year has brought great highs and great lows, and it's what I needed: PERSPECTIVE. Why does Bad happen in the world? Because of our Free Will. Because of years of neglecting our needs. From decades of thinking we have everyone else's problems figured out, while ours stare at us from across the table, a shadow that skews in the light and disappears in the dark, but that thing is THERE, and without the shadow, we wouldn't know where the light's coming from. Yin/Yang, Dark/Light, Hogg/Hazzard, Vader/Skywalker, where you at? I haven't denied once that events could turn sour in a caffeine-nicotine-sped heartbeat, because I've mis-timed my whoopee cushion salutes enough in the past to know how to mess it up. Sometimes, the knowledge of failure is all you need to ensure success. Put that on a magnet and sell it, $5, gimme half.
I'm looking forward to at least one good fist fight in 2005. Not sure when or where, and I may get thumped, but oh lord, I'll have fun. America sucks, by the way. We're not truly free to do what we want, but some laws are there to protect us. It depends on the What we are being protected From that bothers me. But we suck a lot less than a lot of places, except Europe, which is still a couple thousand years of civilization ahead of us. We may have more toys, but money can't buy class.
I'm outta here. Thanks for reading. Catch you on Saturday. E-mail me if you like.
=============
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
But really, it's all just days to change over to keep the calendar kiosk conglomerate in business. Point taken. There were days I slept, nights that I couldn't. Days I wrote, nights I spoke. Days and nights I drank. Days and nights I wept. And it's all history.
This year has been a jump for me. I took a couple of leaps and learned a lot. A year of growth, a year of shrinkage, a year of lessons to take in and share outwards. At some point, you must give it out of love. At some point you must stop giving. At some point you should assess where you are. At some point you should keep moving and stop thinking and just Do. At some point you have to make sense of it all. At some point you may realize it will never make sense, because It simply Is. Don't try and make sense of the Komodo Dragon; just respect that it is, and hope that it lets go of your kneecap.
I am making greater strides at the moment, I feel like I'm running the last 50 meters of a mile, feet hitting the ground less often but with more force, propelling me forward, not simply guiding under me. It's like I'm powering up a hill and not looking to the summit, just slightly up so as to navigate the fallen tree, the boulder, the cougar WHOA shit a cougar. It sees me, but it's not moving. If it does, I'm not waiting for it to attack, I must move towards it now, or be forever tracked by it, waiting for me to slip and it's then on me.
This year has brought great highs and great lows, and it's what I needed: PERSPECTIVE. Why does Bad happen in the world? Because of our Free Will. Because of years of neglecting our needs. From decades of thinking we have everyone else's problems figured out, while ours stare at us from across the table, a shadow that skews in the light and disappears in the dark, but that thing is THERE, and without the shadow, we wouldn't know where the light's coming from. Yin/Yang, Dark/Light, Hogg/Hazzard, Vader/Skywalker, where you at? I haven't denied once that events could turn sour in a caffeine-nicotine-sped heartbeat, because I've mis-timed my whoopee cushion salutes enough in the past to know how to mess it up. Sometimes, the knowledge of failure is all you need to ensure success. Put that on a magnet and sell it, $5, gimme half.
I'm looking forward to at least one good fist fight in 2005. Not sure when or where, and I may get thumped, but oh lord, I'll have fun. America sucks, by the way. We're not truly free to do what we want, but some laws are there to protect us. It depends on the What we are being protected From that bothers me. But we suck a lot less than a lot of places, except Europe, which is still a couple thousand years of civilization ahead of us. We may have more toys, but money can't buy class.
I'm outta here. Thanks for reading. Catch you on Saturday. E-mail me if you like.
=============
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Paris Hilton Video Effects Analagous To Major Searching
See, what I'm doing there is making a title that will be hit about a billion times by people who have yet to see the Paris Hilton video. "Paris Hilton Video" should get a lot. Then the word "analogous" is gonna get attention because of the words "anal" and "log" and "us." In the meantime, a 5'2" earth-momma who favors tropical flower short sets is roaming the workplace telling people "See Ya Next Year, meeeaaa ha ha ha ha!" So yes, your fears are realized; people still say that.
Thank you God for the Sybase group's giftbasket having Bailey's in it. Thank you sparsely attended workplace.
Dude, Did You Put A Scene In?
Pornaoke is a hit! Who'd-a thunk it? What is it? It's like Karaoke, but with porn. No, you're not making the "bow bow, chikka-chikka-chikka, bow bow" guitar sound to the music. Even better. The "DJ," - yep, that's his Viking van out front with the "LUVBORG" plates - puts up a scene from a pornographic movie, likely something from his "Tuesday" collection, and random people "off the street" make up the voices and noises of the people having sex on camera.
This will never happen in the states. I mean, COME ON people, they could only do it in a public place like a smokey BAR attended by ADULTS, and we can't risk the people who ARE NOT IN THE BAR being offended.
And lord knows it's gonna lead to other things, like people leaving the bar ready to have sex after watching those videos! Because that's NEVER happened before Pornaoke, has it? Come on American bars, this is a GOLD MINE!
"Okay, we need McKenzie and the Southern Oregon Men's Rugby Team on stage for this next scene from 'Friends In Low Places; Starrla's New Roommates.' "
Where Do You Think You're Going?
Seeing as how I haven't had one work-related e-mail since 3pm Monday afternoon, I'm getting the F outta here. The Bailey's is almost gone, the contractors are still here, and nobody has brought in a decent muffin plate in 2 weeks. I'm leaving. Plus, I just saw Sandie the earth momma and told her "See ya next year!" She got pissed that I jumped her punchline. I WIN, I WIN, I WIN! Leave 'em wanting more.
Tonight, 9:30pm, Pegasus Pizza. Be there.
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
Thank you God for the Sybase group's giftbasket having Bailey's in it. Thank you sparsely attended workplace.
Dude, Did You Put A Scene In?
Pornaoke is a hit! Who'd-a thunk it? What is it? It's like Karaoke, but with porn. No, you're not making the "bow bow, chikka-chikka-chikka, bow bow" guitar sound to the music. Even better. The "DJ," - yep, that's his Viking van out front with the "LUVBORG" plates - puts up a scene from a pornographic movie, likely something from his "Tuesday" collection, and random people "off the street" make up the voices and noises of the people having sex on camera.
This will never happen in the states. I mean, COME ON people, they could only do it in a public place like a smokey BAR attended by ADULTS, and we can't risk the people who ARE NOT IN THE BAR being offended.
And lord knows it's gonna lead to other things, like people leaving the bar ready to have sex after watching those videos! Because that's NEVER happened before Pornaoke, has it? Come on American bars, this is a GOLD MINE!
"Okay, we need McKenzie and the Southern Oregon Men's Rugby Team on stage for this next scene from 'Friends In Low Places; Starrla's New Roommates.' "
Where Do You Think You're Going?
Seeing as how I haven't had one work-related e-mail since 3pm Monday afternoon, I'm getting the F outta here. The Bailey's is almost gone, the contractors are still here, and nobody has brought in a decent muffin plate in 2 weeks. I'm leaving. Plus, I just saw Sandie the earth momma and told her "See ya next year!" She got pissed that I jumped her punchline. I WIN, I WIN, I WIN! Leave 'em wanting more.
Tonight, 9:30pm, Pegasus Pizza. Be there.
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
Monday, December 27, 2004
An Open Letter To Dickwads, Cock-Knockers, And F*ckTards
At some point in the past week I've had a number of people make comments about my comedy, life, or personality. These people have zero knowledge of me what-so-ever, and don't really get what I'm doing with comedy. And since it's not their place to make a judgment on things that affect them not, I am having fun walking my dog "Righteous" on a leash made of "Truth."
Last night's set at Gigglets was up & down, with basic laughs coming from stuff I knew would work, and chuckles on the new stuff. That's what Open Mic'ing is about, working the new stuff, a skill, a bit, a joke, a chunk. It's not, in my mind, about the whoring of old jokes so that my ego isn't rankled. And yet two complete diaper-wipes had something to say after my set.
One guy made mention of my set not being "killer" and that I "tanked on purpose." I told him that I'm not whoring old material (he's suspect for writing his own) just to kill for 6 minutes at an open mic. The other guy, who is the new SpongeBen DirtPants, purports his act like a Yiddish Dat Phan, and said that I was passive aggressive. I told him he could f*ck off. Those two got into a verbal altercation shortly there-after, mostly because of miscommunication between overblown egos and false senses of hilarity.
So anyway, if you have something to say about me, my life, or my comedy, make sure you do it to my face, and be prepared to defend your case. If you just don't like me, believe me, I began disliking you a long time ago, so we're square. But when a couple of people I have very little if any respect for decide they're going to make judgment calls based on their own skewed "head in the ass" views of the comedy world we co-exist in - let alone a judgment by a complete stranger - I begin to wonder how sad and pathetic their lives really are. From what I can tell of the shabby clothing, lack of jokes, and Small Man's Complex, the answer is Quite. I guess I must be getting a lot better at this, if people are taking shots at me for reasons that don't affect them.
Look out, World. Duke Discerning is on the case.
=============
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
Last night's set at Gigglets was up & down, with basic laughs coming from stuff I knew would work, and chuckles on the new stuff. That's what Open Mic'ing is about, working the new stuff, a skill, a bit, a joke, a chunk. It's not, in my mind, about the whoring of old jokes so that my ego isn't rankled. And yet two complete diaper-wipes had something to say after my set.
One guy made mention of my set not being "killer" and that I "tanked on purpose." I told him that I'm not whoring old material (he's suspect for writing his own) just to kill for 6 minutes at an open mic. The other guy, who is the new SpongeBen DirtPants, purports his act like a Yiddish Dat Phan, and said that I was passive aggressive. I told him he could f*ck off. Those two got into a verbal altercation shortly there-after, mostly because of miscommunication between overblown egos and false senses of hilarity.
So anyway, if you have something to say about me, my life, or my comedy, make sure you do it to my face, and be prepared to defend your case. If you just don't like me, believe me, I began disliking you a long time ago, so we're square. But when a couple of people I have very little if any respect for decide they're going to make judgment calls based on their own skewed "head in the ass" views of the comedy world we co-exist in - let alone a judgment by a complete stranger - I begin to wonder how sad and pathetic their lives really are. From what I can tell of the shabby clothing, lack of jokes, and Small Man's Complex, the answer is Quite. I guess I must be getting a lot better at this, if people are taking shots at me for reasons that don't affect them.
Look out, World. Duke Discerning is on the case.
=============
Take Me Home
My Non-Funny Blog.
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