Tonight I record my first Comedy CD.
Half of my brain is trying to get together this slick, tight set that has a perfect flow and no slow spots. Inside that half is more of my brain that wants to do nothing that may offend people.
The OTHER half of my circuits are telling me to just let it happen. I know where to start, and how to start the show tonight, and then let it kind of happen from there. That's when I do my best, anyway. And I'm not paying a professional crew to come tape me, so I may as well let it rip. I honestly doubt anybody will be offended. At least by me.
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Oh.
My.
Gawd.
This work thing is killing me.
At my last job I wrote, sometimes at length, about the numerous co-workers who deserved to be shared with the world. Remember "No Makeup Sandie?" She had a breast reduction at some point. It was the one thing she could have done to make herself even LESS attractive. But she nailed it.
Her happiness and constant laughter inspired me, much like people are inspired when they're fired from the Post Office.
I wouldn't get violent in the work place. I don't have the temper nor the time management to properly plan it. But work, sheesh... I like my job, don't get me wrong.
What I don't like are a certain group of people. I call them, with sarcasm, "The Dynamo Club." The dead-eyed stare of somebody who not only doesn't realize that This Doesn't Matter, they barely know that they drove to work today. I wish they could take a second and see themselves I see them, and they will, if ever they find my sketchbook. (My favorite is "Brenda DuckWalk," she likes cableknits!)
It is a gift to put off any kind of Up energy to the world around you. Life has other ideas, sometimes. Diarrhea can put a stain on your day. Head aches are a pain in my ass. Hangovers make me wanna drink. Underage Drinking makes me miss Jr. High. So really, Life will always give you PLENTY of reasons to walk around looking like you're just running through the script for "Walk to Kitchen, Water In Cup, Drink" in your processor. I've been there. I got out.
This, again, is Perspective. It is how we know Black From White. Drunk From Sober. Flaccid From Semi-Flaccid. These people are necessary, and I don't know what I'd do without them.
Oh yes I do...
I'd be boring.
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.
