The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking

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Thursday, April 07, 2005

Nostrildammit: Futuristic Forecaster, Egotist

Yes, I Love Technology
Television will continue to gain popularity as it is beamed to mobile communication devices. Families will gather around their hand-helds at church.

MCDs will be MP3 players, television sets, internet browsers, phones, typing terminals, blood alcohol sensors, vibrators, voting booths, ATM cards, stun-guns, RayBans, bear-spray guns, and/or Balance Bars, Honey Peanut flavor.

Downloading music will be "how it's done." The CD, record store, and shit pop-punk bands will become obsolete. Artist's will release new songs 3 at a time every 6 months for a fee of $5 to $10. People will plug their MCDs into their computers, download a song directly from an artist's website, and the fee will be sent over from the MCD via password protected bank or credit card account information. ***Shitty bands will not sell any songs because people under 18 years of age will not be allowed to make purchases via their MCDs.

Geoff Lott will fart.

The sad passing of Mitch Hedberg will cause a resurgence in the popularity of stand-up comedy. More people with less talent will be signing up at open mics. Club owners, waitstaff, bartenders, cooks and janitors will each make more on any given night than comics. Some comics will continue developing their acts into finely-tuned, perfectly crafted one-man acts that, while lacking insight and humor, will be like watching a play. Other comics will continue honing their act and get funnier. Nobody will be on TV.

The only thing on TV will be the News and replays of the videotape of Carson Daly being elected Pope, then being Punk'd by Ashton, then Ashton getting shot by Cardinals in the Vatican.

Firefighters will get less and less action as robots fight fires. The men who fought fires will become either pro wrestlers or go back to bouncing.

I'll run out of things to type abo...

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Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Bleach Your Ass, Soul.

Last night I watched an episode of MTV's "I Want a Famous Face." It's a new program about celebrity worship to the Nth-degree, where an idiot has surgery to resemble a celebrity some drunken, saggy-assed banker once told them they kind of looked like in order to see their soon-to-be-bleached butthole. Yes, people are doing this now as a matter of vanity. I know mine belies my rosey complexion. It's always embarrassed me around the Turkish steam bath.

In last night's "I Want a Better Life/Famous Face" the subject of the fawk-u-mentary was a ho-tard in New Jersey or somewhere in the NorthEast. Her name is unimportant, but it was Jenee, and probably still is. She was obsessed with looking like Tiffani-Amber Thiessen, an actress whose parents couldn't figure out what to call her; "our daughter the topless model" or "our daughter the stripper." So they named her one of each. Anyhole, TAT is, by my own caveman brain, a good-looking woman. The chick who wanted to look like her was last-call decent.

Sadly, Jenee was born with a major birth defect, missing most of her self-esteem and personality. Neediness and anger issues with her dad had grown instead. And somewhere along the line, when the lights were low and her blue contacts were in place, and she had mascara'ed the mole onto her cheek, and somebody glanced at her quickly, she was told she looked like Tiffani Deborah-Gibson. From that party behind the Gas & Grumps forward, Jenee decided that was good enough and dedicated herself to trying to continue looking like Tiffani-Amber Waves.

Jenee fought with her boyfriend who she asked if there would be a problem if she sent her "after" pictures to Playboy, and what if she got into Playboy and moved to Los Angeles, would he move with her, because he wasn't doing nothing there anyway?!?! She was harshly annoying, but she was right. At one point he was interviewed while playing XBox and wearing his headset to talk with other players, while she sat on the other end of the bed (it's in the bedroom!?) going glassy-eyed over ending up in People magazine, hanging off of Luke Perry's hard-on like a trout on opening day of fishing season. Jenee wanted a "better life" than the one she had. She was a hairstylist in her mom's salon. Which means she took classes into the hundreds of hours to become a stylist, she didn't fall into it backwards. Her "better life" likely consisted of getting roofied more often and maybe someday waking up in bed that didn't have Star Wars sheets. Her famous face would get her there!

But Jenee didn't get a famous face. Jenee, instead, dropped $13,000 to get new tits, and have about 9 liters of fat sucked out of her midsection and thighs. If she really wanted to look like Marcia-Marcia Marcia, she would have needed a nose job to put a button on that horn of hers. Nope, tits and ribs. They sucked out fat like they were detailing her Acura. Afterwards she couldn't sit down to pee. Her boobs were obviously fake. And she wasn't happy, not with the size of her stomach, nor with having to pay a cover at some crappy Jersey shore nightclub.

The pics at the MTV link above were after Jenee had sat in a make-up artist's chair for an hour. An artist. A PAINTER made her look a lot like TAT, and the resulting pics were supposed to go to Playboy. They didn't. Jenee balked on her dream of showing her TwAT to millions of men. She'll have to settle for showing it to guys who say they are firemen, one at a time.

Your body and your psyche are in direct relationship to each other. Bodybuilders can't get big enough, in their minds. Anorexia causes people to see themselves as fat, still, FAT! But if you work on each of them, your self-esteem and your physical self, you'll find they meet in the middle, and just maybe you'll love yourself to not care what people think of the color your butthole. And isn't that the dream all parents have for their children?



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Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Uh...

I'm not sure, but there was a pause in the conference call I am on, and I think it's because of something I just said.

A number of "managers" are debating among each other whether or not to re-work 5 hours worth of data for a spreadsheet so they can filter it, so they can read it more easily. This means that they want to go BACK to the format I was using a month ago when they dropped a knee into the throat of that soldier. 10 hours of work, now going into another 5 hours of work, so a spreadsheet can be looked at for about 2 minutes if it's perfect. And no, they won't be doing any of the work.

The words "redundant horseshit" came to mind, and may have come out of my mouth, thus causing the pause. I can't really remember if they came out or not. I'm only sorry I wasn't face to face with them so that I could repeat myself.

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Monday, April 04, 2005

Perspective, Revisited

As I mature, wizen, and/or grow some emotional callouses I am finding the importance of Perspective. The P-word, the juxtaposition to your situation, good or bad, from which you can see things more clearly. It is the lesson in action. I try to not get stuck reading the screenplay when I can clearly see that my next line is:
"Hey, how's it going? I'm here to, uh...
(adjusts toolbelt) Check your pipes."
I value perspective now that I'm older. I used to think that something trying would go down and I'd wallow in it with a "Why me? Tell me great Lormok, Wisest of All FrogWizards!!!" Yeah, I have my traditional spirituality, and that which demands sacrifice. Perspective. But things happen against the grain and it can throw the proverbial trick-knee into your day.
Look, shit's gonna happen and it's going to piss you off. My dad's illness, for one. His personality has been 80% wiped out. His behavior is not too far from that of a 4 year-old who knows all the dirty words. He is still very loving and remembers his family and friends. But he will never fully appreciate watching his grandkids grow up (someday, not soon). He won't be emotionally engaged on the days his children get married. It's just not in his program any more.
Some of the other dads around my circle weren't as "there" as my dad was. He was in the groove of being a dad, he enjoyed it, he loved my sister and I. We know all of this, which is our Perspective to his affected self of Now. He loved my mom through quite a few moments where it seemed like the only thing to do would be disappear or divorce, but dammit, not another day of whatever was going on. And he stood his ground, telling me things like "keep your eyes open for the next few days. You'll see some changes." He taught me the importance of cause & effect, and Perspective rang through.
Appreciate your friends as people so they will be there when you need humanity. Enjoy a moment when you are "bored" before your moments are filled with the boredom of pointless efforts. Drink a cup of cold coffee and you'll see how heat and pressure can produce a pleasurable experience. Have a dog so you can see how great it is to not have a cat. Quietly appreciate your health in the midst of much illness. Take a deep breath and enjoy the air while you can, because what you think are Seagulls are actually the ocean police and you'll soon be in mermaid jail.
You can have it better. It could be worse. Focus ahead of you, and be happy that your legs work, as you skitter away from that section of Gottschalk's that you have fouled. For now, you're off for bargains, while another person will appreciate fresh air that much better. Thank you PerspectiveGirl. You are my favorite of all PrettyGood Heroes.
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