The Super Beyond

The painful illness of my friend's father has cut-loose enough of an emotional oil-slick in me to devote some time to a Life piece. My blast on Justin Bieber's ridiculable haircut shall wait for another day.

Having lost my dad in November of 2008, and later becoming a father, I have a much greater appreciation for life, babies, mommies, and the duties of parenting. I see how much influence I may have on my son some day. And how difficult it can be to live with integrity and coolheadedness when you haven't slept much and can play 183 arrangements of "Old MacDonald" on a 1-octave plastic piano. And this is WITH technological advancements as outlets of frustration and socializing.

As I'm wont to do, time to time, I pray to God about my life. Usually I am thanking Him for keeping me alive after a litany of moves equivalent to Justin Bieber's haircut (it seemed cool at the time, but then we went on two wheels, and the gas can tipped over, and my cigarette...). Seriously close calls in my life that would have given my parents synchronized cardiac arrest had they known about it. And for some reason I am here with a beautiful wife, wonderful baby guy, awesome friends, and a bright future in a number of careers. And I have to Thank God for a lot of it.

Some people love to jump off their Agnosticar or Atheistar Van long enough to bash and/or ridicule my choice of spiritual pursuit. I pray for them, too. I don't point a finger back and tell them they're wrong for believing - or not believing - the way they do. I accept them as people, and move on. But all the same, I don't condone nor defend the Crusades, the Catholic Priest scandals, nor any other atrocity committed by a person wrapping themselves in the gossamer layers of Christianity, Religion, Islam, or Professional Wrestling. Every group's got their shit-heads.

And for every shit-head there are 1,000 fantastic people. And knowing that everybody, great and not-so, good and bad, weird and conformist, will all biologically die some day just makes me realize that our relationships to one another are the MOST IMPORTANT thing we can have in life. Especially if they are good, healthy, self-actualizing, loving, and mutually beneficial. We don't have to be close to step on toes. And we don't have to step on toes just because we're close. And I only ever wear close-toe shoes.

So if you're gonna live a long time, have some stories to tell when you get there. If you're not gonna live a long time, give everyone else a story about how you went out big. But for the sake of dead rockstars, don't just muddle about doing squat in hopes you'll just make it to 90 with a full tread on your tires. Nobody wants to hear about how you never swam the rapids or farted in your hand to smother your friend's face when camping. Especially God. No time for it.

Go live. Do one thing today that scares you or somebody else.

Justin Bieber's hair is really stupid, though. I'm happy my dad isn't alive to see it. And if I'm a "hater," I include Bieberfolliclegate among my other instances of "hating," including "Dane Cook's Act," "Fans of Insane Clown Posse," "Guys Who Make That KissyFace To The Camera," and "Misquoting PseudoJournalists Obsessed With MurderCases."

Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT, NPO

A Guide To Commenting On The Internet

The Internet is a dumping ground for many, many half-baked sketches, knock-offs, pervs, dorks, shitbags, dirtwads, buttwads, buttclods, fartknockers, seat-sniffers, and These Guys.
Does anybody know where this look launched from? It's the OiledCanvas, outback, Aussie Duster jacket and the hat combo, which has been made popular by both Dorks AAAAND Fatties for a few years now. I understand there's a certain "Drifting Highwayman With No Home To Return To" vibe, but usually this guy's outside of a mall eating a corndog and reading a book with a dragon on the cover.
IF YOU KNOW, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT MOVIE OR BOOK THIS LOOK CAME FROM.

Okay, see, right there I throw hate-sauce on a look I will never adopt from people I don't hang out with, who don't read this blog. So why do it?

Because it's what the best-smartest and great people do on the internet. See, when you get laid a lot, and have a lots of money its impornant to make sure you are telling people their wrong when you do'nt like something of there's. So heres how you do it. (Not sex, no, I will show you that at your moms house, LOL)

First, go to a sight like YouTube or a newspaper you read on line. There's a place there for you to sign up at. Like put in a name and stuff, so chose your name carefully. Make sure it says something about you and what your in to, but not your real name. Use something intimidating or from your hometown so people know where youre representing at. Or what football team you like because baseball is stupid.

And then you sign up and go around to whatever's on the websight. Like videos of comics, tell them their not funny. Don't say why it's not funny, neither. Leaving an explanation is'nt what your doing. See its like this that you are there to tell people to shut the hell up and stop clogging the internet with their crap. If they want help they can go to their moms when I'm not on top of her LMFAO. Who cares if your called an ass hole by some faygit?

What ever you do, though do'nt like make your own stuff and put it out. See your self as artist and not some faygit dorkass hole who puts all his own stuff out. People hate that shit, and the people you work with would be ideats all day at work and yo'ud never get any pizza made. So tell people 'YEAY YOU SUCK' and let 'em suck it when your moms not sucking it.



[dedicated to every negative comment-leaving person who actually takes time from their life to anonymously post a dead-end comment. If they ever ponder suicide, I hope to be there when their grandmother walks into the basement to find them hanging from a belt with a porn looping on their laptop screen over a game of World Of Warcraft. F*ck empathy, the world's too small, but I guess somebody has to abuse animals.]