The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking

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Friday, January 27, 2006

The Kind Of Decadence I Can Only Dream Of

With Lovely Woman in the house, there's a steady TV diet of the GNN (Gay-CNN/E!) and MTV reality shows that are unintentionally, and therefore 100-times more, funny. It is from the wafting noises of the programs on these shows I get a lot of info about the various "hot accessories" and "cool pubic hair styles" of the macro-biotic Kabbalah-brities in and around the Hollywood. My Aquarian nature shudders at the imbalanced lives they lead, falsely centering themselves in a made-up universe. My Aquarian nature is also equipped with a hollowed-out molar full of Dichotomy-G32, a chemical that immediately puts me in a pair of Prada slides, sipping freshly-brewed Chilean virgin-hymen Bubble tonics out of cups made especially for Whole Foods, and saying, "Yes, I can appreciate the beauty of that Louis satchel. It is right for the season. It is unique. This tonic is, golly, giving me half of an erection, but only on the left. Huh."

I'm very two-sided. Even with the strongest beliefs in a point of view, I am fully aware of the opposing view-point, and rarely see it as an antagonist. It's part of my nature, and often gets me into trouble. Some people believe that I'm being difficult, while some see me as being stubbornly difficult. Still others find me to be "fascinating" when I'm not "doing pushups during the sermon." Balance, I love it. Which is why I really love how some stars have found a way to balance their "Anybody Would Suck On My Body" status with accessories. And from there, it's all about how decadent you can get. The more decadent the accessory (UP), the more grounded you appear (DOWN).

For example, Paris Hilton had Tinkerbelle. Tink was a dog that could fit in Paris' purse, were it not for her pills. From there, she upgraded to not just a living mammal, but NICOLE RICHIE, who fits into most pill bottles now. Nicole was tired of being the third most-famous snatch on the show, so she chewed through her leash and nearly married a once-fat DJ, Howard Stern. Or not. Her dad is the very famous BB King?

How do you top a dog, and a chihuahua? TWO CHIHUAHUAS... DOY. How the hell do you top that?

Look no further than Angelina Jolie. She's got a Cambodian kid, AND Brad Pitt. AND another baby from Africa. Where does it end? Olsen Twins BackPacks by Labor Day, that's where.

Now those are the kind of accessories that make a dude say "Women ARE from Venus!"

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Speaking of Books and Decadence, I think it's great that Oprah, who was once making a fat red penny off of her goy-toy James Frey's "A Million Little Pieces," and never questioned, but instead CHAMPIONED, the tale his "memoir" told has come out to say she feels like she was duped. I was worried for a while that Oprah, who is AT THIS MOMENT, simmering in a pan of her own HARPO juicey-juice, wouldn't give a shit about the lies.

Isn't it great that she's thought about contemplating the possibility of giving to charity all the money her book club made from pushing the book?

What a saint that disgustingly "rich for no reason" that woman is. I hope she recovers from her dupey-ness!
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Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

Monday, January 23, 2006

More to come... but...

In this morning's blog, my friend Killorn, when referring to her drive to dial-back the veracity of her laugh, used the term "Throat the beast."

Google that, and get back to me on how many returns you get for semi-legal sites in Scandinavia.
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Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad