So far, nobody has told me directly that they have any problem with me wishing them a Merry Christmas. I wonder if it's all propaganda created by the Reich Wing to drum up religious fervor.
For those who are completely against religion, that's fine, that's your decision.
You have to work the weekend. No days off in the Agnostic calendar, 'cept the National Holidays. If you truly want separation of Church and State, you cannot say "The government said I can take this day off," because that would be observing a Religious Holiday, and my tolerance ends at your hypocrisy.
And I'm reminded again this year that once a year is not enough to do nice things for those you care about. Don't save it up. Give a little bit all year. When it comes this time of the year and I don't get gifts from people, I don't feel bad because I know that I did some other nice stuff for them through out the year. Seriously though, when in doubt, just give me a gift card. I would rather write a "Thank You" card instead of an "Oh, THANKS" card.
Also, if you're sending a card just to send a card, "because that's what you DO," I am okay with being left off the list. Getting one of what was likely 50-53 cards with your quickly-sprawled signature in it makes me feel less like a SugarPlum and more like a YuleLog. E-mail me a "Hi!" and a digital photo of a naked elf. Unless you are giving us original photos on the cards, something cute or funny, no, REALLY, save it!!! What you see as a gesture of kindness I see as tree death and mantle clutter.
I'm happy to be thought of, but try to think when thinking of me. Put some thought into it. Five $100 gifts are better than 500 $1 gifts. Quality, not quantity, unless you're trying to break the "Gifts That Were Laying Around That Fit In Boxes That Were Laying Around" record. Don't be a nutlog and give me clutter. I wouldn't do that to you. I'd help you move your crap, and you repay me with a Jack Osborne bobble-head...
Gawd, people take all the fun out of Christmas.
Only 2 more shopping days left.
F*ck.
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.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Monday, December 19, 2005
Here, Please... Take My Shit
Nick and Jessica are in the process of getting divorced.
They are millionaires.
They have no children.
They are both moderately talented.
They have contributed to the retarding the legacy of American entertainment.
Supposedly, Nick deflowered Jessica.
Jessica, supposedly, thinks that's a gardening term.
Rumors abound of their dallying outside the bonds of marriage.
Dude, no shit. Who wouldn't mount that hot piece of ass. And her, too! HA HA, FAGTASTIC TURN OF A PUNCHLINE.
It has played out in the public eye, as was planned by Jessica's father, Adolf Mengala Simpsputin.
This way, they are always "so-&-so's ex"wife/husband, no matter how many of their movies go straight to DVD.
I don't pretend to think that anybody reading this was emotionally affected by the split in a negative way. Personally, I celebrated by farting. "Sorry" to the lady in the check-out line, not to mention the old man in the wheelchair I blamed it on. But that second one by the scratch-tickets was not me. I know my smell, that was something not of this earth, at least not of this diet.
As I understand marketing and celebrity life more and more, the more I want to be part of it, so that I can make fun of them publicly. Grand-scale publicly, is what I'm saying. Anybody who takes themselves so seriously in that they can't take a joke, refuse to be nudged by the elbow of comedy, well hey friend, YOU'RE IN THE CROSS-HAIRS. I find lacking a sense of humor about one's self to be a serious character flaw. Being humorless is one thing, but not being able to take a joke about your own clothing/glasses/haircut, or a myriad of other things, well my friend, you deserve to be teased until the scar tissue builds up and you start throwing turds back at the monkies.
In summation, I like dark chocolate, and have since long before anybody started their "antioxidants" campaign, likely the people at Big Antioxidant. If anybody thought that Nick and Jessica would stay married while living a life in the public eye, that person is not the kind of person I want to spend much time around. That's the kind of person who, for what they lack in general intelligence, makes up for in drug-trade promiscuity. And the world continues to turn.
Not that I care or nothin'.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
They are millionaires.
They have no children.
They are both moderately talented.
They have contributed to the retarding the legacy of American entertainment.
Supposedly, Nick deflowered Jessica.
Jessica, supposedly, thinks that's a gardening term.
Rumors abound of their dallying outside the bonds of marriage.
Dude, no shit. Who wouldn't mount that hot piece of ass. And her, too! HA HA, FAGTASTIC TURN OF A PUNCHLINE.
It has played out in the public eye, as was planned by Jessica's father, Adolf Mengala Simpsputin.
This way, they are always "so-&-so's ex"wife/husband, no matter how many of their movies go straight to DVD.
I don't pretend to think that anybody reading this was emotionally affected by the split in a negative way. Personally, I celebrated by farting. "Sorry" to the lady in the check-out line, not to mention the old man in the wheelchair I blamed it on. But that second one by the scratch-tickets was not me. I know my smell, that was something not of this earth, at least not of this diet.
As I understand marketing and celebrity life more and more, the more I want to be part of it, so that I can make fun of them publicly. Grand-scale publicly, is what I'm saying. Anybody who takes themselves so seriously in that they can't take a joke, refuse to be nudged by the elbow of comedy, well hey friend, YOU'RE IN THE CROSS-HAIRS. I find lacking a sense of humor about one's self to be a serious character flaw. Being humorless is one thing, but not being able to take a joke about your own clothing/glasses/haircut, or a myriad of other things, well my friend, you deserve to be teased until the scar tissue builds up and you start throwing turds back at the monkies.
In summation, I like dark chocolate, and have since long before anybody started their "antioxidants" campaign, likely the people at Big Antioxidant. If anybody thought that Nick and Jessica would stay married while living a life in the public eye, that person is not the kind of person I want to spend much time around. That's the kind of person who, for what they lack in general intelligence, makes up for in drug-trade promiscuity. And the world continues to turn.
Not that I care or nothin'.
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
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