The reports are that oil prices could soon top $100 per barrell. That is 1,000% growth in about ten years. The oil, mind you, has not changed in quality. It's all about supply and demand. And I am outraged at the sins of our fathers!
...for not investing more in oil, what were they thinking?
Hindsight is always 10w-40.
======================
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, May 19, 2006
Headlong Into The Fan
Comedy Blog!
Last night I performed a gig out in a somewhat rural town in East King County. The joint wanted to host a comedy show. Apparently they did NOT want to advertise it. Zero pub, zero media on it. It was a microcosm of bar comedy, but the crowd... well, the 8 people in the room who weren't comedians... they were very nice.
On the way to the gig there were a few wrong turns and nearly-missed streets. We got there about 15min before show time. Did the show, it was what it was, like trying to do comedy in the lunchroom at a plant that makes boxes to hold other boxes. One lady stood at the bar the whole time. Eye-level comedy can be discomforting. I also felt as though I were auditioning for somebody booking a comic for their brother's probation party.
On the way home I nailed every turn, every road, and every green momo-fofo light. And I learned a lesson. I'd like to share it with you now.
When MapQuest is your guide, you may go a bit slower to make sure you find your way to your destination.
When The Knowledge That Your Destination Is A ShitPile is your guide, and said Pile is in your rearview, you can drive perfectly away with your eyes closed before the last cocktail glass hits the pavement, post-window toss.
Sloshing back and forth in the shit-bucket, sorry World, I'm all full up.
Save your lessons and nestle up to my man-flower. Not that you owe me, but for crying out loud, could you not cause ONE F*CKING TRUCK ROLL-OVER in that town after a guy's been out pounding beer in a Kroger parking lot? And not a high schooler this time. One of those burned out guys who tucks his t-shirt into his pleated cargo shorts, tube socks slunched around his ankles, just like his outlook on life after his SECOND mail-order bride left him. Because if that could happen right in the parking lot of that gig next time around, I would really, really think everything is in order and stop winging backhanded compliments at co-workers.
"Shane is a multi-tasker. He can both confuse and bore you in the same sentence."
Thanks for indulging me there. You know how you feel after a 20-min nap? Take an Old Testament-styled shit after that nap, and THAT is how I be feeling.
Thank you, I'll be here all night.
In your liquor cabinet.
===========================
Oh, one more thing, hun.
I'll be posting more "Jokes That Barely Work," as well as a Cruise Journal, and the story of my engagement, from Ring Shopping to Proposal. Gonna be good times.
Thanks for reading. Love ya.
===========================
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Last night I performed a gig out in a somewhat rural town in East King County. The joint wanted to host a comedy show. Apparently they did NOT want to advertise it. Zero pub, zero media on it. It was a microcosm of bar comedy, but the crowd... well, the 8 people in the room who weren't comedians... they were very nice.
On the way to the gig there were a few wrong turns and nearly-missed streets. We got there about 15min before show time. Did the show, it was what it was, like trying to do comedy in the lunchroom at a plant that makes boxes to hold other boxes. One lady stood at the bar the whole time. Eye-level comedy can be discomforting. I also felt as though I were auditioning for somebody booking a comic for their brother's probation party.
On the way home I nailed every turn, every road, and every green momo-fofo light. And I learned a lesson. I'd like to share it with you now.
When MapQuest is your guide, you may go a bit slower to make sure you find your way to your destination.
When The Knowledge That Your Destination Is A ShitPile is your guide, and said Pile is in your rearview, you can drive perfectly away with your eyes closed before the last cocktail glass hits the pavement, post-window toss.
Sloshing back and forth in the shit-bucket, sorry World, I'm all full up.
Save your lessons and nestle up to my man-flower. Not that you owe me, but for crying out loud, could you not cause ONE F*CKING TRUCK ROLL-OVER in that town after a guy's been out pounding beer in a Kroger parking lot? And not a high schooler this time. One of those burned out guys who tucks his t-shirt into his pleated cargo shorts, tube socks slunched around his ankles, just like his outlook on life after his SECOND mail-order bride left him. Because if that could happen right in the parking lot of that gig next time around, I would really, really think everything is in order and stop winging backhanded compliments at co-workers.
"Shane is a multi-tasker. He can both confuse and bore you in the same sentence."
Thanks for indulging me there. You know how you feel after a 20-min nap? Take an Old Testament-styled shit after that nap, and THAT is how I be feeling.
Thank you, I'll be here all night.
In your liquor cabinet.
===========================
Oh, one more thing, hun.
I'll be posting more "Jokes That Barely Work," as well as a Cruise Journal, and the story of my engagement, from Ring Shopping to Proposal. Gonna be good times.
Thanks for reading. Love ya.
===========================
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Joke That Never Worked # 1: Gay Friends
The following material never does well on stage.
Is Gay The New Black?
For a while, people would say things like "I have a friend who's black," or "I work with a lot of
black people," like we were supposed to spread the word to the streets, or it would up their coolness.
Hey guys, guys? I heard that Matt over in Finance knows a black guy. Holler.
Right? Holler?
It's the Political Correctness movement, that's what did it to us. I have friends, some of whom were born with darker pigment. But they're all good guys, even the Mexicans.
It's not MexiCAN'T… it's MexiWON'T, that's what I've learned. MUY MACHO!
We have to include EVERYONE in EVERYTHING, or else we appear to be insensitive. And some of us aren't insensitive, we just usually spend our inner-city time buying drugs, not hugs.
But now, it's all changing. Everyone had the black friend, and now, everyone's getting a gay friend. They want the fashion tips, the grooming, the off-beat androgyny that stirs up emotions inside, so much that you just lay in bed stairing at the ceiling, confused, throbbing, listening to ABBA, wearing hotpants that were a gift from… well, none of your business MISTER MAN!
The women's gay male companion has been around for centuries, thank you Liza Minelli's husbands. But now straight guys, or "Heteros" as I call me, are getting street cred with the old fashionable "I have a black friend," but replace "black" with "gay," and "Friend" with "We were at the river in a canoe, and there was some gin, and well, nevermind! Until after this Cosmo." I don't drink Cosmos, but I have had a cosmo to drink. It did little more than kidney-punch me, when it wasn't busy making me look "open for business."
And I understand the grooming and the fashionable dress and the presenting one's self to society in a way that is classy and proper. But guys are shaving their arms now, and the eyebrow waxing... It's not manly. They look like the third henchman in that one Bruce Willis movie. And the arm shave, come on. No straight man should shave his arms, unless he was in a bad fondue accident, and if you're a guy who does the fondue, you're probably gay, so shave away. Wow, I came full circle on that one, which for $50 I will do at your party on Saturday.
People aren't novelties to be collected. Unless we're talking about Angelina Jolie's so called "adoptions." Why is Paris Hilton carrying around an ape born to a lab-chimp that was injected with crack... oh, that's Nicole Ritchie, sorry. She's not gay, I don't think.
People love to say they have a gay friend, though. It's all the rave. In fact, Gay is The New Black. As in Fashion, so in Friends. Ya work with 'em, ya love 'em.
(if you're offended by any of this material, please understand that there's a reason I don't do this on stage. It's not funny, as much as it is an observation of how people be talkin' and conductin' themselves. Don't call Jesse Jackson or Rosie O'Donnell, not yet.)
============
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Is Gay The New Black?
For a while, people would say things like "I have a friend who's black," or "I work with a lot of
black people," like we were supposed to spread the word to the streets, or it would up their coolness.
Hey guys, guys? I heard that Matt over in Finance knows a black guy. Holler.
Right? Holler?
It's the Political Correctness movement, that's what did it to us. I have friends, some of whom were born with darker pigment. But they're all good guys, even the Mexicans.
It's not MexiCAN'T… it's MexiWON'T, that's what I've learned. MUY MACHO!
We have to include EVERYONE in EVERYTHING, or else we appear to be insensitive. And some of us aren't insensitive, we just usually spend our inner-city time buying drugs, not hugs.
But now, it's all changing. Everyone had the black friend, and now, everyone's getting a gay friend. They want the fashion tips, the grooming, the off-beat androgyny that stirs up emotions inside, so much that you just lay in bed stairing at the ceiling, confused, throbbing, listening to ABBA, wearing hotpants that were a gift from… well, none of your business MISTER MAN!
The women's gay male companion has been around for centuries, thank you Liza Minelli's husbands. But now straight guys, or "Heteros" as I call me, are getting street cred with the old fashionable "I have a black friend," but replace "black" with "gay," and "Friend" with "We were at the river in a canoe, and there was some gin, and well, nevermind! Until after this Cosmo." I don't drink Cosmos, but I have had a cosmo to drink. It did little more than kidney-punch me, when it wasn't busy making me look "open for business."
And I understand the grooming and the fashionable dress and the presenting one's self to society in a way that is classy and proper. But guys are shaving their arms now, and the eyebrow waxing... It's not manly. They look like the third henchman in that one Bruce Willis movie. And the arm shave, come on. No straight man should shave his arms, unless he was in a bad fondue accident, and if you're a guy who does the fondue, you're probably gay, so shave away. Wow, I came full circle on that one, which for $50 I will do at your party on Saturday.
People aren't novelties to be collected. Unless we're talking about Angelina Jolie's so called "adoptions." Why is Paris Hilton carrying around an ape born to a lab-chimp that was injected with crack... oh, that's Nicole Ritchie, sorry. She's not gay, I don't think.
People love to say they have a gay friend, though. It's all the rave. In fact, Gay is The New Black. As in Fashion, so in Friends. Ya work with 'em, ya love 'em.
(if you're offended by any of this material, please understand that there's a reason I don't do this on stage. It's not funny, as much as it is an observation of how people be talkin' and conductin' themselves. Don't call Jesse Jackson or Rosie O'Donnell, not yet.)
============
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
Monday, May 15, 2006
The Beginning Of The Empire
The past weekend was a culmination of not only a few weeks of planning, but a few years of my life.
My girlfriend Alicia and I headed to Northern California's Wine Country, heretofore referred-to as "Napa" because it's shorter. The trip was Alicia's birthday gift from an adoring boyfriend, and I'm really happy he sprung for it. Napa is known for it's wineries, Mona Lisa-beautiful scenery, and white people. Any time we were not admiring scenery, it was for a very good reason: The winery did not have outdoor tastings.
While the wine, scenery, and grapey buzz of the weekend were all very nice, this blog isn't a travelblog (to follow). It's for a much more important reason. See, I did something to Alicia that I have never done to a woman before.
And I wouldn't suggest any man do what I did if that man is still "just kind of dating around," or is "not over that rogue 3rd-grade boner," or sees Casual Friday as "the other day of the week to wear sweatpants to work."
I asked Alicia to Marry Me.
AND SHE SAID YES!!!
I am engaged!
She is My Fianceé!
I am excited, happy, blessed, and fearless.
She is beautiful, wonderful, perfect for me, and amazing.
For now, this is all I can share.
Stay tuned for "How It Happened!"
=============================
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
My girlfriend Alicia and I headed to Northern California's Wine Country, heretofore referred-to as "Napa" because it's shorter. The trip was Alicia's birthday gift from an adoring boyfriend, and I'm really happy he sprung for it. Napa is known for it's wineries, Mona Lisa-beautiful scenery, and white people. Any time we were not admiring scenery, it was for a very good reason: The winery did not have outdoor tastings.
While the wine, scenery, and grapey buzz of the weekend were all very nice, this blog isn't a travelblog (to follow). It's for a much more important reason. See, I did something to Alicia that I have never done to a woman before.
And I wouldn't suggest any man do what I did if that man is still "just kind of dating around," or is "not over that rogue 3rd-grade boner," or sees Casual Friday as "the other day of the week to wear sweatpants to work."
I asked Alicia to Marry Me.
AND SHE SAID YES!!!
I am engaged!
She is My Fianceé!
I am excited, happy, blessed, and fearless.
She is beautiful, wonderful, perfect for me, and amazing.
For now, this is all I can share.
Stay tuned for "How It Happened!"
=============================
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad
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