The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
I'm Over Contract Work, Thanks
Here "why" is.
Apropos of nothing, I can NOT get a good cup of coffee today. It's thrown my day off-center. Usually I get 2 cups of coffee in over the day, with 2 cups of green tea in there, but ride my ears if I find a decent cup in this dump. MultiBILLION dollar comp'ny, zip-point shit for coffoise. BALLS.
Contract work allows one the freedom to move from company to company as soon as you screw up a project. If you're good at what you do, like I am with building requirements, determining requirement-design gaps, project management, business intelligence, interviewing, and redirecting fart-blame, your contract runs out close to the time you achieve Full Immersion and Momentum! on a project. Kinda like being in the act of coitus and the interruptus happens right about the time you realize you're setting some new stamina record, but OH HERE COMES THE FANTASY SYRUP and then BLAP...
you're cleaning out your desk with a loin-heat unlike any you've ever felt, and you're out of work again.
But if you're under 30, unmarried (or financially secure with your partner's money), and without children, Contracting is a great way to build a resumé. Otherwise you wanna get in a place and put down roots. Here's why:
Contractors are treated like rent-a-Cops at concerts. Necessary, sure. Doing a job some folks could not do, or are just too busy for. You are good enough to work AT, but not FOR, that company. Don't forget that.
Contractors get scraps. If your company has an all-day off-site meeting with guest speaker Alfonso Ribeiro, that's EMPLOYEES ONLY, mmkay? So you sit tight and finish working while the Employees go nuts watching The Carlton Dance up-close.
Benefits aren't great. 3rd-tier health care. Little/no retirement investing. You're on your own to drop $ into a Roth IRA or 401k, and don't expect the consulting company you're with to match it.
So I am 100% thankful for, but now totally over, my Contracting experience. I am actively pursuing full-time, in-house positions with a number of companies, but I think a lot of it is going to be contacting my friends at these places. Which I'm happy to do. I interview a lot so I'm comfortable widdit. I just hope the coffee doesn't taste like trucker underwear.
Not that I have perspective.
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Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Corporate Training & Obedience
My name is Denise Szbarski and I am aaaa certified corporate training specialist here, and today I am going to lead our class on the Unified Requirements, Intentions and Negotiations Gathering, or URING, as we like to call it, heh heh heh... NOOOO, not the other word, come on now...
Does anybody have any questions at this point? No? Okay, then why don't we turn our cell phones off or to vibrate, probably better off so that your business emails and important phone calls don't take us away from the focus today while we're all... working through the process and knee deep in URING. Is everybody able to connect to the network? No? You're not? You? No, no, no... huh, 7 of 10 of you can't get on? Okay, well keep trying. Okay then.
Okay, then normally we go around the room to introduce ourselves and say which department we're in to kill time that I can't fill, but instead of doing that, okay let's dive right into our work today. By the time we get to the last person most of us forget who was first anyway and it doesn't really impact our job nor this class, okay then.
Okay, then now the URING process was created out of a need for Senior Leadership like Daniel and Marlia and Steven to impart some change to an otherwise barely-flawed process we were all comfortable and knowledgeable with. After being confused about the actual details that go into planning and design they found a need to get everybody on a new page instead of the same page. Instead of having no answers as to what all has transpired during the gathering and design phases of projects, they now have an acronym they can refer to and feel as if they are at-one with their organization. They don't know any of your names and don't particularly care to, okay then.
Okay, then when you get to the last 72 hours before a project you have worked on is supposed to launch, the URING process will be referred-to. Usually this will happen by one of the Senior Leaders who hasn't attended any of the calls or meetings, and they will ask questions at random times. The answers to those questions will likely, or may not be, in the URING document, so keep it on-hand at all times, okay then?
Okay, then OH is that a phone? Please... please let's turn off our phones again real quick, guys I hate to interrupt class like that, okay? I'm barely qualified to substitute-teach a quiet-drawing class, guys, okay, let's make sure our phones are off. I have control issues, okay then.
So we're going to go ahead and dive right in for the first 2 hours, is it cold in here? Can we turn the heat up? Are any of you guys cold? No? I am freezing, I'm going to get this heat going, I will be freezing up here, okay then.
So we're going to go ahead and dive in for about 2-and-a-half hours as an intro to the URING process, then a 10minute lunch and bathroom break, then we'll wrap up with 3 hours after lunch. Ah, there we go, I just heard the heat turn on. I set it for 78 so if anybody feels warm just imagine you're in Maui on the beach with a Corona, okay then.
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Corporate Training: When done well, it sounds nothing like this. Usually it sounds like this.
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Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Conference Calls - The Townsquare of Corporate Life
* late-joiners
* non-mutes
* roll-call
* miskeyed re-joiners
* screaming babies
* screaming parents (my favorite in the past includes a budget-planning meeting interrupted by an irate co-worker/dad reminding his kids that they were to "TAKE THAT SHIT INTO THE GARAGE, DAMMIT!")
Enjoy!
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Tuesday, July 20, 2010
NiceHoles: The Candyland Edition
The SweetHole.
DO NOT GOOGLE THAT AT WORK, you will be put back on that list you had to work to get removed from.
The SweetHole is a NiceHole who provides some sort of confection as a way of saying "Aren't I wonderful?" Really, their intent is not to bring candy to co-workers and share some joy, it's just to get rid of stuff they aren't going to eat at home. Nice, but come on...
The road to this blog is paved with the good intentions of people who are retarded in a way you can't test for.
I've noted this before in THIS BLOG about good intentions. Candy in the workplace should be familiar, individually wrapped, and portable. You wanna sandbag 40 packages of Coconut M&Ms near the printer, GREAT, you should be canonized.
But you want to leave a box of "Orchard Fruits" (the smelly 3rd-cousin version of Fartlets&Craplets) along with those wax bottles filled with colored syrup out by the garbage cans?
What kind of skidwagon raised you?
Work candy should be, if NOT chocolate, close to it.
Everything else falls short and you should just stop trying to be nice to people. If you're not willing to fess-up that you shop for groceries at a drug store, then you aren't good with work candy. Stick with collecting Faerie Tale Cat Figurines.
NICEHOLES. They're everywhere.
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Tuesday, July 13, 2010
NiceHoles
For example:
The Feeder: Any NiceHole demanding that you 'have a bite, just a bite, take some, take some food, EAT SOMETHING!" even if you are hunched over in front of their toilet, throwing up after a frosting binge. Should you deny their culinary advances, YOU are the rude one.
The Knowblivious ("no-bli-vee-us"): This NiceHole knows something about everything, and will start a pointless conversation merely to tell you something about it.
WhistHoler: This person whistles indoors. Like a gigantic asshole. Because there's no music. And there's no music indoors for a reason. And they're a gigantic asshole and have to make noise. And when you blow, you suck.
The TimeJacker: Often starting in Knowblivion, the TimeJacker is a master of the circuitous route to NoWhereberg.
While the topic may start with something you didn't want to talk about, the trip from "A good place to eat" winds through "the time he ate BBQ in Tulsa" to "the best place to buy a banjo" to "streetracing in the 1970's" to "the Coast Guard has a boat with a gun that shoots lasers" to "why he makes his own cheese" and ends with tips on "owning your own alpaca farm." Everyone works with this pile.
NiceHoles is now ALL MINE!
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Friday, June 25, 2010
No Comment is Good Comment
Long story short, we took it to the VP with proof that we'd met all requirements to get this thing launched, from cost to execution to benefit. And when she looked at it with full approval from everyone, her comment was a classic Corporate response:
"I'd like some folks to vet the comments you have received to see if they are valid."
In other words, she wanted comments on comments. Opinions of opinions.
Two weeks later we had not only received all the Comments on the Comments, and reviewed them in another 7 hours of meetings, but we MISSED OUR LAUNCH DATE for the Quarter!
So, before you open your mouth about your work, your dinner, the perfume of a co-worker, or why the shopping mall doesn't have a knife store, remember that your opinion has been considered, and was deemed a soft, round, pointless turd by your exclusion in the planning phase.
You're welcome.
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Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Mock Nerdle Tech
Somewhere in my DNA are a number of genes that are coded to produce moments of comedy. These moments aren’t always in the presence of others. I can’t really choose when it happens, usually. I feel it happen somewhere in my lymphatic system and then the connection completes and zap… comedy. Hoo-ray. It’s like trying to keep magnets apart. You can do it, but nature is making it happen in ways you are in no way emotionally ready to comprehend. And when these moments happen, I am at my most blissful, while somebody around me is usually suffering for it. In other words, if somebody gots theyself a goat, hoo-dawggy, I’m-a wanna git that goat! I did not choose Comedy. I chose football. But Comedy chose Me, and I have fewer shoulder aches from comedy, and almost never have to do windsprints for it.
And this kind of humor doesn’t always go well with the sensitivities, not to mention tight-ass’edness, of what I’ve come to see as “other people.” For example…
1) The FreeRange Tofurky Incident (involving a woman who was covered in cat hair-covered fleece)
2) The “Ice, No, but We Sell The Ingredients” Sale (retort to a woman who resembled a potato)
3) The “Is My Wife In Here?” Bartending Moment (wittiest comeback of my life followed that question)
4) Suggesting “Bring Your Child To Work” Day at Planned Parenthood (FIRED!)
But today was really a fantastic moment in my history of jerky humor.
At the vending machine at my new job, a guy’s purchase had hung-up on the way out of the rack. 6.5oz of $1 TrailMix held-back by the foil corner of the neighboring Oats & Honey granola bar. I suggested he either rock the machine, forearm-shiver the machine, or buy a cheaper item above or next to it, so as to “encourage” the release.
Me: Rock it a little. Like a baby.
Him: You can’t, it’s strapped to the wall.
Me: Bummer. Buy the granola bar, it’ll be cheaper than…
Him: … there we go… aw CRAP.
He bought ANOTHER $1 TrailMix, the one behind the first purchase. So the first one fell, while the one behind it HUNG UP ON THE GRANOLA BAR CORNER… Something about the definition of insanity.
So now he’s $2 in, and I say “Can you nudge it a little?”
Me: Can you nudge it a little?
Him: Why? It’s not gonna fall, it's stuck there Jeez. Well, somebody will get a free one I guess. (sulks away)
He turns the corner to leave and I shake my head, count to 5-IrishWhiskey, then blurt out “Oh awesome! FREE TRAIL MIX!”
He comes back around the corner with eyes wide, just as I start laughing and I say “Just kidding.” He wasn’t amused. I almost peed the inside of my pants with enough pee that it would show to the outside of my pants that very likely I had peed them through from the inside to the outside.
I don’t work or meet with this guy. But if I ever do, not matter what he tells other people about me, he’s the guy who paid $2 for crappy TrailMix, and didn’t have the balls to shoulder a 600-lb machine for what’s rightfully his.
All your TrailMix are ours.
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Tuesday, April 06, 2010
Top 10 Reasons You're Not Working
- It's like 8:45 at night. Where are you working, Necrocomicon's Comics & Cards?
- You're reading this while dorkatrons steal Magic: The Gathering sets.
- F*cking short-sighted manager, man. Dude couldn't see how you work better when you're, like, "lifted."
- Because you told some old bag that you didn't sell ice, but if she bought some water and hit the walk-in for 3 hours, she could Do It Herse'f.
- HAVE YOU NOT USED AN iPAD YET? HOLY CRAP.
- That super hot guy in application design just walked by and you think he smelled your toot and even though you know you shouldn't have eaten all that broccoli it's ALIVE and now you're freaking out and can't work, you just CA'... NOT.
- Not Facebook, nope, that's not it so don't even check the other Firefox tab.
- Watchin' Geoff Lott tear it up on Y'allTube. Dude's got mad MC skillz. No.. SQEELZ
- Getting the last of your papers in order for support of your thesis, "Geoff Lott's Comedy As Metaphor Of Seattle's Frustration With Lack Of Courtesies To Hosts At Restaurants."
- It's this economy, man. Got that taco truck converted to the first-ever Sushi-grade Chicken van and pfft, everyone got tight on you.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Read This If You're Unemployed!
- I was in a movie, a commercial, and a radio commercial.
- I drove to and from Los Angeles with my wife and a cat, seeing the gut of Oregon (GROSS) and the Coast of California.
- I played 10 shows in Las Vegas.
- I became a father!
But in all this time I was searching for a job, also. A day-job, a real job that would allow my talents in writing, direction, and hand-farting come to the front of the fore.
And I learned a lot in the past 5 years of being both a Consultant and a Full-Time employee of companies. I can't really designate the difference based on the designation by name, as it seems that most everyone is there "full time." But looking deeper, it comes down to the fact that the benefits one receives vary greatly. I have written a book about this that I'll be publishing shortly and it will make a bajillion dollars and I won't have to work anymore, which is the point.
ANYDOO...
Here's a MAJOR news break I saw this morning and MUST share with you, especially if you are receiving unemployment checks from any state, and are also looking for work.
Your payment is based on your most-recent pay-rate at a full-time position. So if you were making $35/hour, WHY ON EARTH DID YOU COME TO WORK DRUNK AND GET FIRED, YOU DIPSHIT? Another time, sorry...
...then your check would likely hit the max rate for the weekly pay, around $500 from what I remember in the state of Washington.
BUT, if you are unemployed and take a part-time job ("part-time" will vary based on your location, check that out) it can GREATLY REDUCE YOUR UNEMPLOYMENT PAY-OUT if you leave that job. Your $35/hour designation will be wiped out in place of your $12/hour, just to help make ends meet until you sell your book, "Cooking With Whine."
The full story is below:
DON'T CUT YOURSELF TOO THIN.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/csm/20100329/ts_csm/291284d
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Monday, January 11, 2010
Workin' Out
"I notice, like... quite a gap in your employment here. What happened with that?"
I won't read into what EXACTLY she was getting at, because I'm likely too smart to be able to. Her tone wasn't one of earnest discovery as much as accusatory anticipation. BUT, I think what she meant was "Why aren't you working when it appears that you (me) had a great job with AT&T?"
There are a few ways to answer this, but only 2 true ones. If you want to know them, you have to either be interviewing me or a dear friend. The casual conversation may only be bogged down while you wait on that $1 worth of a $5 sandwich comin' through the broiler. So, the WHY and WHAT of my employment gap is for me to know and for you to offer me the chance to show you why I'm a great hire to find out. For the record, I was not fired from my position with AT&T. I haven't been fired from a job since college, and it was completely the right thing to do, because nobody's going to believe you when the other guy in the clown suit has a bloody nose and won't stop crying.
Let's not forget that a LOT of very smart, capable, and considerably less-handsome people have been out of work for quite some time due to A MASSIVE ECONOMIC DUMP taken under the guise of "bad lending practices." Lest we forget, there are plug-ins and WiFi capabilities in any number of COFFEE SHOPS within a few miles of your home, 12-step meeting, dog's groomer, and office. How did we ever lose productivity? That's a question to post on your FaceBook profile, I s'pose.
And what transpired between the day I left until now, where the "gap" could have been filled in with money and $ecurity and routine the ribaldry of "Employee Recognition Day: You Work Here, Right? Have A Muffin!" , well... like, I wouldn't trade it for the world.
But seriously, somebody's about to hire a freakishly capable Business Analyst. Like... yeah.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Interview Review
So, from my interview yesterday there were a few areas I think I could have better-represented myself. In the event that the teammembers I talked with are reading my blog - yes, now and then a potential employer will check in on candidates to make sure they aren't leading their meat-alternative lifestyle in an overly-aggressive manner - HERE IS WHAT I MEANT TO TELL YOU when we spoke of these issues.
1) DEADLINES! You asked what I would do if a number of Exec's came to me with simultaneous requests and delivery times. What I really should have highlighted was that I would inquire among the team for bandwidth, as to who could help me out so I can properly deliver on the ask. And make sure I share credit across the board. I don't know why I said "Do a spit-take and flip the bird." That's ridiculous, and the wrong time to go for a laugh. The next day I would surely reward my teammates with cookies.
2) TIME ON THE JOB! I do feel I answered truthfully to the portion of why I hadn't been in a particular job for too long in the past 4 years. Working On-Contract in the Northwest is pretty common, and those contracts with some large software companies help ensure the employed aren't taken advantage of, nor get any real momentum nor continuity. Phew! And moving to (and back from) California is an experience I wouldn't trade for the world. But I also didn't really touch on the fact that I and my family are intent on remaining in the area for quite some time. I am attached to this area, want to raise a family here, have some goals about involvement in the community. Most importantly, my dreams are dead now, so that'll really be the compost to feed the roots taking hold here... yep.
3) PUBLIC KITCHEN USE! I'm no fan of any common area that allows a person to microwave any sort of fish meal. It's wrong. To keep that from happening, all of my meals will be eaten cold, at my desk, in under 12 minutes. AND I BRING IN COOKIES THAT THE TEAM GETS FIRST CRACK AT, before releasing broken ones to the vultures in the kitchen area. Real cookies. Chocolate-laden. None of that Raisin-chunk, store-bought Horse-S people try and pass off as a "friendship offering."
Okay, so hopefully they got all that. I'm a good hire, a good guy, and not involved in any Fantasy Sports this year. Bigger fish to scale. Let's do this, because I have the skills, and a calendar with nothing on it until Memorial Day.
COOKIES.

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Sunday, September 06, 2009
My Book About Corporate Life, DONE
1) I'm going to be a dad in about 2 weeks.
1a) Yes, I'm a little freaked. I choked from rapidly drinking WATER 2 nights ago.
2) I spent a decade of my adult life in cubicles for a few of the Giants Of Industry, and laughed to tell about it. Some on-stage, much of it over drinks I shouldn't have pounded in the parking lot.
3) I decided to write a book about the experiences of #2. Poop joke? Not exactly. And "yes." But not exactly.
The book is about my experiences as both a Full Time employee - sardonically labeled "permanent employee" if you're dumb enough to believe that - AND as a contracted/temp/consulting employee.
There is a class war, a caste system in place among those cubicles and hallways, all based on the color of a person's access badge.
COULD IT BE? Can a person be JUDGED based on the color of their badge, designating their worth, place, input, salary, and attractiveness to a company?
The daily work situations of every employee of every major corporation, and how it affects them based on something so small, yet so big... the color of their access badge.
Send me a note, I'll send you a sample chapter, you tell me what you think. Please?
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Tuesday, May 05, 2009
Big News!
The past weekend of shows at Parlor Live, in case you didn't make it out, were Awe-and-then-some. It was a riot to come back to the homegrounds and play for a new group of people, and to work with the ever-hysterical Collin Moulton. That guy's good for any type of comedy. Political, goofy, smart, weird, he's got it all. And he can choke you out.
Majorly big Thanks! to all of you who came to the shows. We're working on getting back there in a few months. And if you're in a part of the country other than Seattle, let me know you want me to come see you, and I'll dial it up for your local club!
Other news!
I'm finishing The Book soon. It's been a couple years in the making, but it's going to be a great piece to get out to the world. Based on three influential experiences of my life (2 books + 10 years in corporate america), this book is for anybody who has ever worked in an office, worked as a Consultant/Contractor, and thought to themselves... "I must have done something awful in a previous life."
The goal of the book is to get it out there on the cheap, sell a ton of copies, and to do some touring behind it, sell it like crazy to big companies, and bring levity to a world where the workplace is sometimes the cause and cure of our ills. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN HEARING MORE ABOUT THIS BOOK, EMAIL ME! I want to start building a group to push the book!
Los Angeles Comedy Festival! I have two nights at the Festival this year. Hopefully we'll bring a good number if Industry gangstas into the shows. This is my first "big" show in LA, and I'm excited to knock this thing outta the park.
And if you ain't heard yet... we're having a baby!
Stay funny, stay awesome, stay positive. It's gonna work out.
AND I NEED A JOB, so if you're a company looking to hire somebody smart, who knows how to be a team-player and will kick much ass... let me know, would ya?
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Thursday, April 02, 2009
Decession
Last year I made the decision to quit my corporate career and pursue comedy, writing, and all other things Showbiz. That was September. In October, we awoke to find our fan, shit-covered and wobbly, and a large number of banks staring at us from across the room. Their hands, caked in the crap of a million bad loans and debt-swaps, smelling of greed and ground-through predatory lending practices.
And I have yet to find a steady job.
I've been without work before. Not for this long, mind you. A couple months here or there, thanks to working on-contract from time to time. Prior to these past 7 months, I was only out of work for 2 months at a stretch. Those were harrowing times, pre-wedding back in late 2006. But a good, better-paying job has always come along.
I've applied myself. A LOT. An annoyingly-lot-a-lot. A recruiter did tell me that many HR departments interview candidates with no intention of hiring soon; because, Hey, HR gotta look busy, too, right? It's the state of the economy. If you got one, hold on to it.
I know that I quit my job for a bigger reason. I did like the work I was doing. The people were, in their own ways, hilarious and helpful. I had a fantastic boss who knew how to lead AND let you just do your work. And the money was great. Like GREAT-great. Like "I'll buy dinner again, no problem"-great. And I could very well still be there. Letting my Purposes have a dim light shone on them every-other weekend. No adventure to speak of. Just even-keeled, tamely-paced prose in the history of our Life. Security, yep. THAT's what it's aaaaaaaall about. My spine and Will to Live were succumbing to the weight of the flourescent lights.
I don't have any answers for you right now, sorry. I suppose I could tell you WHEN things will all shake out but doing so would likely result in me being a liar. I would like to see people stop whining so much and try to better their position, however. Every time I hear about somebody who pulled a lever getting laid-off and they'd start crying about "future-robots taking our jobs overseas in Mexica!", I wonder what would've happened if they'd pursued THEIR dream. Lever-pulling isn't a gig you take when you near the summit.
I have no choice but to keep moving my brain and my feet. In the meantime, the least I could do is get me some sleep.
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Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Gassed Prices
Do we need 500 miles at Daytona? What can't be solved in 250, or just 125?
When one begins to break down the amount of fuel used to transport the professional athletes around the country, it makes you realize that you may be some sort of homosexual, boy, and ya best start looking at nekkid wuman.
Just sayin'.
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Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Lessons In Being An A-Pipe
In the meantime, the Packers decided to move on, like any healthy dumpee in a relationship, and go with a younger, thinner, QB who may need some development but is surely the way of the future.
So Brett needs attention. And he's had it for a month now. A lot of it. Overshadowing the entirety of the kickoff of the NFL season. It's not about the Packers, it's about Brett Favre. This is showing a side of Favre I don't like, which is too bad because he's a Hall of Fame lock for sure. But now he will also be remembered for waffling like this.
Another case in point, some Fart-in-Human-Form that I work with. Gawd, this guy...
Sure, he's under pressure from his boss to handle things. We all are. It's called WORK. I have some. I'm not doing it right NOW, but I have some.
See, when a guy decides that his work is of the utmost importance, he narrows his view of the world and sees only his target. And once he begins to swing wildly the arms of panic because somebody said "Uh... we need that sooner," then everyone not in his view gets hit. And until the hitting stops, the work done by everyone else suffers.
The past week has been a suffering at the end of the flail. Every email leads to a 45 minute call across 4 schedules. Every voicemail leads to a 90minute call across 15 schedules. And now... now this fella sends a round of emails to 10 people, and in the amount of time it would take one of above-normal intelligence (and twice-above-normal Handsomeness) to read the thread and make sense of something with a subject line of "Support For Group,"
The DiaperLoad calls me to reiterate what was in his email...
Because I guess I have nothing else to do...
And work only to serve him...
Which means, likely...
He's not married.
So yeah, if you wanna be an A-hole, that's a phenomenal way to do it. Demand, demand, demand, and then when your turn comes up, act like you deserve it.
Oh, and double-clicking your pen (tk-tk... tk-tk-tk-tk...) and bouncing your leg all day are not "activity," they are nervous habits for which you should have a crayon taped to your hand and your ankles duct-taped together. For crying out loud, WHY CAN'T I JUST COME OUT AND SAY THIS???
=0=0=0=0=0=
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Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Sick of It
This guy sitting near me, in an office... with a DOOR that closes on hinges and latches and locks... has his door open...
and a now-drying chest cough that spasms in quick, double-bursts every 90 seconds or so. You could set your whiskey shots by it. He works in HR. Imagine.
My problem with people coming to work ill, especially if they are contagious, and ESPECIALLY if they aren't that attractive, is the possibility of spreading their illness. I understand the move if you're the only orthopedic surgeon in the ER for the next 72 hours, or a drywaller who doesn't reek of beer before hanging Hardi-backer in the splash zones. But the HR contact? Dude.
Back in the bubble.
'kA-hhuu, 'kA-hhuu.
But HOW does this message get out? It's the same problem for somebody who is really loud at work, or dresses poorly (not the scooping neckline or short skirt, that's a whole different reason to stay home), or complains all the time. It's a personality flaw, it's in the code of the machine now.
See, in the past I've tried dropping hints, anonymous print-outs, farting in their cube, farting in a drawer in their cube, leaving the water of a tuna can in a cup under their desk, telling them outright, and general embarrassment. The last of those, by the way, is far too underutilized in our society. If somebody is bothering you with any sort of behavior that you haven't paid good money for, it's well within your rights to let 'em know.
I can't handle this. I'm 34. It could go on for Who Knows how long, and dammit, it's time to just do the right thing and tell HR.
Oh right. I gotta say something. Sorry Dude. I'm sick of your sickness.
Another time, earlier this year when I first started this job, I was very ill for a good 48 hours. Some sort of bug that just wracked me. So I decided to stay home for that Monday. When I returned, I was admonished, somewhat "gaily," by a co-worker that I better not be sick and get her sick, dang it!
From the day I started there was a wet, hacking chest cough emanating from across the cube walls, from the same person who was demanding that my presence not THAT FUCKING COUGH, DUDE, COME ON.... that my presence not impact her immune system. Now, my bug was legit. 4 months into the show here, that chest cough prevails, daily, wetly.
It's making me sick. DONE.
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Friday, March 07, 2008
Announcing My Retirement
After many years, after the passion and the heartache, the triumph and the pain, the ups and the downs, the downers and the uppers, the idiots and the awesome, I make this announcement with a lot of love and zero regret.
Today, I am retiring from professional football.
I have pursued my passion for years, but never got picked up by a team. Nor did I try out, for that matter. Sure, at 6'1" and 220-237lbs, depending on when you got me over the past 12 years, I could run a 40-yard dash in the 4.8 - 5.7sec range. I once bench pressed 225lbs 36 times over the course of 12 minutes. And my lateral quickness is equivalent to Orville Redenbacher's. The man, not the 'corn. Guy died in 1995. Choked on a JuJuBee at a movie, can you believe that shit?
From here, there are many dreams I will continue to pursue. I will eventually write a lot of entertaining, funny, award-winning radio jingles for car dealerships, or on-line dating sites. I'll probably keep doing stand-up comedy, that seems to be working out pretty well and doesn't have a weight limit, from what I can tell. I'll continue being as smart as I can without losing an audience, but really, when it comes down to it, I'd rather throw in my mouthpiece, strap the helmet on, and dive headlong into the 3rd row for a loose chipotle chicken wing.
My dream never materialized, and it's time to realize I'm just not the pulling guard, defensive tackle, or team jokester I used to be. It's been a great ride, and I've loved thinking that I would one day run out onto the field in front of 873 fans at a 4th-tier Arena Football League exhibition game in Grand Mound, WA. But Life is calling. It's time to do the right thing for my family, for my health, and stop thinking about professional football as a viable career option.
To my fans, it's really weird that you thought I was a good player. I never played a down. Get your life together, and please stop sending me your jockstraps.
To my detractors, you were right. I wasn't fast enough, nor did I have the fire in my belly to play professional football, get in street fights, push girlfriends down stairs, and then start a foundation for area youth sports with my name all over it to help ease the punishment of my 4th DUI. I did what I could with what I had. I wasn't the most-gifted athlete, but I made up for it by not working very hard.
I will always love football.
Football will not miss me. It will go on.
For now, bring on the Coffee Ice Cream and let's enjoy our lives.
Sincerely,
Geoff Lott
My Blog About My Dad
Friday, February 22, 2008
I Can Hear You Now
Okay, I've decided on a sense I would give up if I had to lose one of my senses.
The decision was made for me, really.
At first, I figured that I'd go with "taste." If I wanted to drop a sense, it would be Taste. The upside is that I wouldn't be tempted in most ways that I am tempted by certain things. The downside is that, if I lost my sense of taste, I would start enjoying the music of Nickelback, The Music Industry's Answer to Illegal Downloading. Plus, I love foods. And I have a lot to try.
So I went another way. Or, like I said, the way came to me, and I said "mmmmB'okay." I know that I'll live a long, healthy life, vibrant and full of fun clothes and trips. But if I had to be robbed of a sense, of the 5 we have (Smell, Sight, Touch, Taste, Hearing), oh crap, EASY...
HEARING.
- I can read captions to funny movies and humorous passages in books.
- I can remember how many of my old favorite songs sound, but most of today's music is recycled from an era I wasn't that hip to anyway.
- I would never have to listen to somebody tell a totally F'ed-up joke. Not a "wrong" joke, a joke they aren't smart enough to remember the proper delivery to.
- I wouldn't have to listen to people complain about how their $5 coffee doesn't taste enough like coffee after they put enough milk and flavor in it to give a leprechaun insulin shock.
- Crying babies? Never again.
- Children's laughter? Creepier than you think.
- You're gonna have to come into the room to tell me the cat has diarrhea.
- Co-worker's diatribe, punctuated with mistimed giggling, about how "this place used to have creamer but now, I uh, my friend works at a place that has creamer and this place used to have creamer, and uh..." WHAT? WHERE IS THIS GOING? WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHAT?
SORRY, I cannot hear you. The Lord has blessed me. So what, I have to talk with my hands and tell people via written word that I'm unable to hear them? Look at all I have lost! It would be worth it.
Think of all the stuff you are inundated with on a daily basis that just turns to white-noise in your mind.
Never again.
The aliens have it right. TELEPATHY. ABDUCTION. PROBES.
Humor is a sense, much like taste.
Some people can enjoy the foie gras, the slow-braised elk tenderloin, and the cheese pairings. Some, well, they're just pissed you passed ANOTHER Arby's, man.
So yes, Hearing. If I had to lose a sense, it would be hearing. No more Nickelback. Yes, I'd choose to lose my sense of hearing,
Or Decency. I'm tired of gut aches from non-farting in public. Or maybe half-decency, half-smell. I think too few people have the perspective of what I could be doing in grocery aisles and various clothiers. So yeah, Decency would be the other sense I may give up.
I should re-think this.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Snow Driving: It's How You Use It
ssNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOw!
So yeah, first things first. How to drive in the snow.
1) Leave the liquor store, bags in hand.
2) Make sure you have some mixers and microwave meals at home, you don't want to make too many trips out once you're in and boozin'.
3)
(SSSRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE RECORD-STOPPING NOISE)
Okay, here's the deal...
Last night I had a private party to perform at in a sub-suburban area north of Seattle.
On the way to the gig I passed a number of spun-out, ditched, sideways cars (mostly very expensive sedans and a couple of street-racers). The real beauty of snow-driving, besides whipping monster-ass brodies in the playfield at Darryl Blattfeld Middle School, is that it sets everyone back to ZERO on the Good Driver scale. Those folks who zipped in & out of traffic on a daily basis, tailed others, sped, ignored the use of and ignored using blinkers, and those of us who CAN drive? We all get the reset when the snow's a-fallin'.
With snow, SKILL comes into play. You have to know about momentum, physics, continuity, tracking, and brake-tapping. If you ain't got it, you're gonna end up outside your Acura making that "OH COME OOOONN!!" motion you make when you realize, HA, you're gonna have another baby!
So again, I passed a lot of people who thought they had "skillz" to snow-drive. Nuh-uh. Sorry froots, I have a gig and my empathy for humanity takes a Greyhound seat to craptown when I have to venture among the untrained masses for a gig and a phat payout. I kept repeating to the people ahead of me "Don't look over there, not a concern. Forward, just keep going, NO NO NO BRAKES, NO NEED TO BRAKE, just keep going, you have a FORD... EX-PLO-RER, you need to GOOOOO."
Long story shortened... There were three snowy ways via hills to the venue I was supposed to perform at. All 3 were blocked by large vehicles driven by people who decided to stop and "renegotiate" the attempt on the hill, WHILE STILL ON THE HILL.
Snow Driving comes down to this:
You stop, you stick, you're done.
You speed, you spin-out, you're done.
You slow, you slide, you're done.
Keep your foot in it, pump your brakes, and keep it moving.
I could not get to my gig, nor my check, because of roads blocked by idiots.
ADULT idiots.
LICENSED adult idiots.
I drive a sedan. 4 doors, front-wheel-drive, 1999 SEDAN. There and back, one minor slip, no gig, no paycheck, and the Huskies lost. I hope those cars are still in those ditches, paint-jobs scratched by brambles and barbs and barriers. Idiots.
Oh, and another thing...
Bank of America can kiss my ass.
And when you ask for a number to reach me at, and I give it to you, and you call and leave a message on another number and leave me in the lurch for contacts that don't stick to my eye-lid inners? Yeah, Dr. Golitz's office lady, you're to blame for my not ordering through you anymore. I'll get my hash elsewhere.
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