Some poor kid is stuck at work all day with a parent. The kid is up on this floor going through his Star Wars knowledge as if it's currency for puddin', and my dearest of friends know what puddin' be to me, and I want to tell him...
"Kid, never lose that enthusiasm. Never lose sight of the fact that the only interesting thing in corporate America is the imagination of a virgin working in IT. Your dad here is a cockwad. I've never worked with him, but that many earthtones in one outfit is a pretty fair indicator of boredom in top-siders. You'll never be a professional athlete. One of my grandmas is dead. Your pets will die. And no matter what happens, the next 6 years of your life will be formative, intense, jerkin'-filled, and above all, total bullshit. Accept it now. If you can get through it with a unique personality intact, the only thing you'll be missing is your virginity. Make sure you call your mom to wish her a Happy Pride weekend. Do you smoke?"
Hindsight is 20/20. Hindusight is way better. Chrissie Hynde can kick your ass.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
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.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Oh, THIS One Is THAT Issue...
Seattle's most frighteningly incestuous street-rag, The Stranger, has declared that This Week's Issue is the Gay Issue.
How is it different, you ask?
Dunno. Maybe that it's out of the closet for a week, while the Seattle Weekly stands by and says "Yeah, we know. You're blocking the keg."
I would say that it's an attempt by The Stroker to sell more issues, but it's free, so it's an attempt by The Stringer to troll for some of that hot Weekly-on-Weekly action you can only find in Belgium.
You may be asking yourself if you are gay for reading this week's edition. Only if you read it while planted firmly on Dan Savage's column and/or face and/or maypole.
===========
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
How is it different, you ask?
Dunno. Maybe that it's out of the closet for a week, while the Seattle Weekly stands by and says "Yeah, we know. You're blocking the keg."
I would say that it's an attempt by The Stroker to sell more issues, but it's free, so it's an attempt by The Stringer to troll for some of that hot Weekly-on-Weekly action you can only find in Belgium.
You may be asking yourself if you are gay for reading this week's edition. Only if you read it while planted firmly on Dan Savage's column and/or face and/or maypole.
===========
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Give In
The point I am nearly at is the point where I am the only thing that matters in my world. And I say "thing" like I am not even a person, because I want to exclude all nouns, 'cep' for me. My Aquarian nature is to help, help, help others, for the simple reason that help is needed. And I have been fighting that part of the program for the better part of 3 months now.
Almost weekly I feel like I need to Not Do for anybody else. But Doing is what I do. Fighting it is a Fear Response. You may ask "Fear of What, Geoff?" Or you may ask "Was that you?" It probably was. Sorry, it's the broccoli/Clamato cocktails. The FEAR of Doing For Others is that I'm Not Doing For Me. Giving away, not just giving. Giving in a way that is not going to be appreciated. Giving away to a point of poverty. That's how Fear works, it slow-dances you into a corner by the punchbowl until you realize the party is over. Being at the party is cool. You were there, you didn't get drunk or spill anything. You didn't risk the foolish play of setting your ass kitchen-sinkward and asking the host "Hey, does your garbage disposal work?" You walked home alone, while Fear stuck around to cockblock. Why did you even go? To PARTY, yes, friend, that's the whole reason you are there. Let go. Hang it out there. Suck it dry.
And to Not Do, when it's simply part of who I am, is to fight the force that helps me get through days I don't feel like belly-crawling through. Fear held me back from so many things in life that I really should have gone after. There's a term out there, Fear Of Success, that is actually, in my mind, misleading. It's Fear Of Failure with it's arms open. Hug or smother, it's your call. Success is not to be feared. Failure is not to be feared. My fear is that I will give so much that I will have nothing for myself. That has NEVER been the case, and is actually "deprivation thinking" which leads to diminished returns. The key is to let go, and when Fear comes around, throw a shot of Jack down it's gullet, bend it couch-wise, and give Fear a proper kneading of the dough.
Somebody had to get to Oprah's level, it just happened to be Oprah. Scared people to do not Go Oprah. Carson Daly, who is dating his vaginal equivalent in Vanessa Carlton (first date banter: "You like Vanilla Frozen Yogurt, too? Mass."), and Carson Daly has no discernible talent. Ashton is, at the very least, caulking Demi Moore's hot-tub. But Carson Daly isn't afraid of failure. He simply said "I am going to be on TV." And there he is. He has aimed for, and gained, a high-level of mediocrity, per his goals. Fearless.
So here I go again, on my own. Going down the only road I've ever known. I am To Give. Simple as that. I will Give, fearlessly. Friendship, love, moustache rides, advice of dating, advice on dating a clown, advice on moustache riding a clown. Do what it is you do. And do it until it is done in a way that doing it let's others know that you Can Do.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Almost weekly I feel like I need to Not Do for anybody else. But Doing is what I do. Fighting it is a Fear Response. You may ask "Fear of What, Geoff?" Or you may ask "Was that you?" It probably was. Sorry, it's the broccoli/Clamato cocktails. The FEAR of Doing For Others is that I'm Not Doing For Me. Giving away, not just giving. Giving in a way that is not going to be appreciated. Giving away to a point of poverty. That's how Fear works, it slow-dances you into a corner by the punchbowl until you realize the party is over. Being at the party is cool. You were there, you didn't get drunk or spill anything. You didn't risk the foolish play of setting your ass kitchen-sinkward and asking the host "Hey, does your garbage disposal work?" You walked home alone, while Fear stuck around to cockblock. Why did you even go? To PARTY, yes, friend, that's the whole reason you are there. Let go. Hang it out there. Suck it dry.
And to Not Do, when it's simply part of who I am, is to fight the force that helps me get through days I don't feel like belly-crawling through. Fear held me back from so many things in life that I really should have gone after. There's a term out there, Fear Of Success, that is actually, in my mind, misleading. It's Fear Of Failure with it's arms open. Hug or smother, it's your call. Success is not to be feared. Failure is not to be feared. My fear is that I will give so much that I will have nothing for myself. That has NEVER been the case, and is actually "deprivation thinking" which leads to diminished returns. The key is to let go, and when Fear comes around, throw a shot of Jack down it's gullet, bend it couch-wise, and give Fear a proper kneading of the dough.
Somebody had to get to Oprah's level, it just happened to be Oprah. Scared people to do not Go Oprah. Carson Daly, who is dating his vaginal equivalent in Vanessa Carlton (first date banter: "You like Vanilla Frozen Yogurt, too? Mass."), and Carson Daly has no discernible talent. Ashton is, at the very least, caulking Demi Moore's hot-tub. But Carson Daly isn't afraid of failure. He simply said "I am going to be on TV." And there he is. He has aimed for, and gained, a high-level of mediocrity, per his goals. Fearless.
So here I go again, on my own. Going down the only road I've ever known. I am To Give. Simple as that. I will Give, fearlessly. Friendship, love, moustache rides, advice of dating, advice on dating a clown, advice on moustache riding a clown. Do what it is you do. And do it until it is done in a way that doing it let's others know that you Can Do.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
A Crap-Ton Of Shitballs
First off, Verizon, your DSL service can lick the back of my fundle.
It wasn't hooked up when you said it would be.
I called to report it and got locked into a retardo-matic convo with someone obviously just following procedure, but that procedure is RETARDO.
She asked me, and I shit thee not, "Where do the phone lines come into the house?"
Dear reader, that is as broad a question as it can get. In my mind there are 100 ways to answer it, bit since I knife-fight with Occam's Razor, I replied with...
"From the lines outside."
Her response was "No, like are they in through the wall, or a pipe, or under ground?" I hadn't ever seen them at this new place, so I said I didn't know, because outside is where the hug monster lives and he wants me to be his lap-cowboy. She also wanted me to put filters on all the phone lines and test the DSL connection again. I told her I couldn't as I was talking to her from a landline. Her reply...
(silence)
(more silence)
(dumbfounding silence)
(acceptance that technology's ease is a wash compared to techtards)
"Okay, so you can't plug filters into all the outlets?"
No, because I'd have to disconnect this call, and that would be fun, but unproductive.
My favorite instance was being told that they could get somebody out to fix the problem on Tuesday, some time between 8am and 5pm. I replied "That's pretty broad, can we narrow that down?"
"Like what, with an appointment?"
Yeah, if you make them, an appointment. I can't take an entire day off of work for internet access.
"Yes, we can make an app..."
At that point my brain white-noised with the words 'THEN OFFER THAT AT THE BEGINNING, YOU DIPSHIT.
I'm going with cable instead, as it's the only access I have in the office at my place. I'm not sure why I'd even do all this. The internet bores me. I'm more into my education than my entertainment.
====
Today is the Summer Solstice. If you've noticed people being a bit weirder, edgier, or more hyped up than usual, today has a lot do with that. It's the end-day of the upswing cycle of your year's purpose. In other words, you're gonna get in a fight before the end of the day, and blow your load, and get f*cking on with life. It owes you nothing, so keep moving. This line has places to go.
====
When in doubt, shut up.
When in the right, speak up.
When in Bothell, shoot up.
When near my cube, smell my braap.
=
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
It wasn't hooked up when you said it would be.
I called to report it and got locked into a retardo-matic convo with someone obviously just following procedure, but that procedure is RETARDO.
She asked me, and I shit thee not, "Where do the phone lines come into the house?"
Dear reader, that is as broad a question as it can get. In my mind there are 100 ways to answer it, bit since I knife-fight with Occam's Razor, I replied with...
"From the lines outside."
Her response was "No, like are they in through the wall, or a pipe, or under ground?" I hadn't ever seen them at this new place, so I said I didn't know, because outside is where the hug monster lives and he wants me to be his lap-cowboy. She also wanted me to put filters on all the phone lines and test the DSL connection again. I told her I couldn't as I was talking to her from a landline. Her reply...
(silence)
(more silence)
(dumbfounding silence)
(acceptance that technology's ease is a wash compared to techtards)
"Okay, so you can't plug filters into all the outlets?"
No, because I'd have to disconnect this call, and that would be fun, but unproductive.
My favorite instance was being told that they could get somebody out to fix the problem on Tuesday, some time between 8am and 5pm. I replied "That's pretty broad, can we narrow that down?"
"Like what, with an appointment?"
Yeah, if you make them, an appointment. I can't take an entire day off of work for internet access.
"Yes, we can make an app..."
At that point my brain white-noised with the words 'THEN OFFER THAT AT THE BEGINNING, YOU DIPSHIT.
I'm going with cable instead, as it's the only access I have in the office at my place. I'm not sure why I'd even do all this. The internet bores me. I'm more into my education than my entertainment.
====
Today is the Summer Solstice. If you've noticed people being a bit weirder, edgier, or more hyped up than usual, today has a lot do with that. It's the end-day of the upswing cycle of your year's purpose. In other words, you're gonna get in a fight before the end of the day, and blow your load, and get f*cking on with life. It owes you nothing, so keep moving. This line has places to go.
====
When in doubt, shut up.
When in the right, speak up.
When in Bothell, shoot up.
When near my cube, smell my braap.
=
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
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