I've Got Gas

Interesting....
Look at how gas prices dropped around election time in 2004.
Then skyrocketed, DOUBLED, within 6 months after the 2nd W-Bush presidency began.

Then trailed off again in November as it came time to elect local officials... then went UP again...

Now, the trend may show "hey, that's the Memorial Day to Labor Day span! They ALWAYS jack the price up!" The greatest spike is right at the end of that span. And right about the time most major cities start forcing ethanol into the gas to cut emissions.

Not so in 2007. Maybe we "found" some more oil to refine?

Whatever the reasons, we're still paying less than Canada, and perhaps less than we will, eventually.

Exxon's profits last year hit $39,500,000,000.
That is 39.5 BILLION. Profit. Could they live if that was cut in half?

In November 2000, a barrel of crude was $28. Now, gas is over $120 a barrel. We are driving cars that are more fuel efficient. All other driver behavior is probably the same, except for the text-messaging friends from behind the wheel.
"OMG TRAF SUX. SUM GUY FLP'D ME BRD."

So what changed?
Our political leadership, from the Presidency down through a staunchly anti-progressive Congress.
Our relations with the oil-producing nations of the Middle East. They got lucky staying in those boundaries and finding oil, it's not like they are mixing their own recipe in the trunk of their gold Benz'os.

So hey, a lot plays into how and when gas prices go up. They've gone up over $.10 in the past 8 days.

My paranoid conspiratorial side says "The Bush oil cronies are only on-line for a few more months and will gouge until November, then they'll bottom the prices as far as they can around election time." Just sayin'. Hmm...

PERHAPS... It's an experiment to see how much we'll pay for gasoline. What's your price?

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Customer Holds Serve

I had to call a place today and speak with, shudder, their Customer Service department.
It doesn't say anything about "hospitality," or "quality," just Service. No promise of anything positive.

By the way, dumbass as SRC... you don't have a "Medical Review Board." I know, you called it the "Medicine Review Board." But you don't have that, either.

Knowing that you were way the hell off in left field, I called back, and had to type some stuff at a job that pays for your days off, what what?, I had to use the "voice-activated" menu instead of pressing numbers.

I said "One" for Claims.
"Three" for information on forms.
"Three!" for information on ...
"THREE" for information on the muddyflapping FORMS YOU FART STAIN!
And when The System AGAIN said "Sorry, I did not understand you," I said

"Worthless shit-pile of turds."
"One moment while I connect you to a Customer Service Representative."

So there you go.
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Bloating Gas Pain

I have kept track of my gas consumption and prices since November of last year, to chart not only what I spent, but how much I got for it, and how many miles I was getting per gallon.

December 21 of last year, gas was $3.19/gal in the state of Washington.
$40 bought me 12.46 gallons.

Tuesday afternoon, I put in $40, and got 10.99 gallons, at $3.63/gal, an increase of $.44/gal. Gas has not improved in quality, color, taste, nor abdominal prominence. It's still gas.

Now, at this rate, gas will be consistenly over $4/gal by Labor Day. Supply vs. Demand shows us something important here.

If we have less of a demand (buying, using, filling bottles to light&heave at buses of clowns), the supply loses it's value, and the price drops.

FRIDAY is supposed to be one of those "Gas Out! Holiday!" things, where people aren't supposed to buy any gas for an entire day.

IDIOTS.

You don't break addiction by not taking drugs all day Friday, only to take a freeze on Saturday morning. On Saturday, you get up, you use something other than drugs, like exercise or hugs or prayer or naps, and stay away from drugs. Now you have 2 days off the dope. Sunday, maintain, do the same thing. Take a walk. Ride the bus. Ride that bike.

Gasoline is expensive on the West Coast because we don't have a near-by refinery to work it for us, and since we have the Alaska pipeline, you'd think we'd have that in place. But who wants a refinery next to their kid's "School For The Relatively Normal"? Not here, in Washington, one of the most heavily-taxed, under-waxed, gluten-free pancake-stacked states this side of Saudi Arabia.

Car-pool, thumb it, hoof it, jog it, wheel it. If you can, lay off the gas.

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Humor, The Sixth Sense

Humor, like Style, but not Substance, is a Trait one has. Perhaps like an odor, if one were to ask my lovely wife, who announces her entrance to most rooms with "It stinks in here, Geoffrey."

I feel that people are Funny the way some are Tall. Born to have a certain amount of it the world will experience, you don't really know how Funny somebody is until you get in a situation with them where it comes out. Like Height, Humor is best experienced when somebody's reaching for something, like a rebound or the sombrero-shaped chip/salsa bowl. You can't tell how huge Shaquille O'Neal is until you're standing next to his dong at the urinal. And you can't tell how funny a person is unless you actually have a gauge of "Funny vs. Not Funny."

So here's where I am going with this:

Today, I was on a conference call with a number of people who I think have a pretty good sense of humor. They would "get," if not really "adore," Mitch Hedberg.

"Rice is great, especially if you're hungry, and want 2,000 of something."

"I have an intense dislike of protests, but I don't know how to show it."

So I'm on the call, and I do a little Roll Call to make sure that I know who's all there. At the end of the list (we have an application that shows everyone who's dialed in, so I read the names of everyone whom I could see had dialed in), I said...


"Okay, I think I got everyone."


Met with silence.




THEN, I say, "Please announce yourself if you're not here."
Met with about a 3-Mississippi of silence...
Then...

"Uh, yeah, they can't say they're not here if they're not here."


... huh... ya don't say... well then...


And thus ends another experiment of injecting humor into the workplace. I fully expect that little exchange to end up in a Reader's Digest. If I put myself in the role of the guy leading the call, I'll look like an ass for explaining that Yep, not being there precludes one from being able to speak in their absence. But if I say somebody else did it, I could be $400 richer.


When at a coffee stand/shack/establishment, asking for "room" with your drink means they don't fill it all the way so that you can post-load it with as much Splenda as your spleen can turn into bloody bits of... okay, sorry... It's the space at the top. "Room For Cream," a great name for a dairy, btw.

I once asked a barista, "You guys ever run out of room for people's drinks, when somebody asks for it?" That got quite the hearty tilt of the head and a twitched eyebrow in the vein of "Don't hit on me, fatty."


The kid behind her laughed his ass off. Barista only said "Like, on the counter where we put them?" The kid behind her explained, "No, like the space at the top of the drinks."


By then the joke, like my hope of ever being as widely accepted as Dane Cook, slid off the counter, to the floor, and underneath some fart-stain's Vans.

So there ya go.
We don't all laugh at the same things all the time, but the Funny is always happening. You may just be too short, or tall, to see it.

Last example...

Why is the guy on the left wearing a watch?
Where does he have to be? Ear doctor? Elephant try-outs? This is why you have to start eating Organic, folks.

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Lee or Ray?

This is going to be the first in a series of how men, and perhaps women, with the middle names of Lee or Ray are most-famous for committing crimes.

Jerry LEE Lewis, for example. Crime? Married a 13 year old. Stopped recording music.

Dixy LEE Ray!, double-name score, former Governor of the state of Washington. Was in office when Mt. St. Helens erupted. Just sayin'...

David LEE Roth. Ego savant. High kicks. Lost his mind.

Billy RAY Cyrus. Not enough?

And now, l'idiot du jour...

Charles RAY Fuller. from the AP story: The 21-year-old North Texas man was arrested last week for trying to cash a $360 billion check, saying he wanted to start a record business, authorities said. Tellers at the Fort Worth bank were immediately suspicious — perhaps the 10 zeros on a personal check tipped them off, according to investigators.

This list will indeed grow. Something about those middle names of Ray or Lee just drive a person to madness. Madness, I say.


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Are You Smarter Than a Customer Service Rep?

So I call my health insurance broker (Corey Haim forbid the carrier have their own department to answer questions, always best to handle that through a 3rd party's 2nd party), and tell 'em...

"Howdy! (I speak down-home when I'm about to ask a favor) I need to submit a claim because I purchased some prescribed stuff prior to receiving my ID card from y'all (down-home!) and I was hoping... Could you please tell me what form I need and to where it should be sent?" (I may speak folksy, but I'm not ending a sentence on a preposition, thank you)

The response was to use a form that did not have the words "prescription" or "reimbursement" in them, and to send it to the broker, not the insurance comp'ny.

So I go check out the form, and find one that says "Prescription Claims" on it! HEY, that's odd, nobody told me THAT would be there. Download, print.
And I also downloaded & printed the other one they asked for, to cover all my muffins.

So now I'm going to have to send these to 2 places, one to the Comp'ny, one to the Broker, because somebody gave me a funky answer at the Broker. I fig're one of those companies will deny it. Odds are I'll get a call about some sort of fraud, and I'll say "Yes, the insurance industry is a fraud. What's your next question?"

Because, hey, the best way to have affordable health care, is to not pay people's claims for using the services they pay for! I pay $120 a month, and I work full time. If that matters to anybody.

And the drugs I had to buy helped immensely in both the healing AND the drainage, if that matters to anybody.

GESUNDHEIT!
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Reality Shows

The thing about Reality Shows is that they aren't real. They have writers, and everyone plays it up in front of a camera. It's Television.
The only way to actually get a reality show is to have secret, hidden, no-prior-knowledge the camera is there footage.
And some places have that. It's in parks, and red lights, and sometimes the random foodcourt torlette. And it turns out, guess what???

PEOPLE
ARE
BORING

Yes. Boring. Life is usually mundane. So the TV shows get the best looking people they can to live together, drink together, frolic together, and get arrested together, because that isn't boring. The shows are cast. That is, hand-selected people, not random samples, are smooshed together and told "Work it out. Or even better, get drunk and pee at the cops!"

You want UNBELIEVABLE Real Life? Look at THIS STORY, from the AP Wire, via Bentonvill, Arkansas. A 300-lb inmate awaiting trial for murder filed a complaint about losing >100lbs since being in jail, saying the jail is underfeeding him. W.O.W.

More to follow... I have to go vomit in the jacooz.

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Fat? So!

I gotta tell ya... I've been a big, fat-ish guy my entire life.

I look at the pics of myself in youth league soccer, and I look like I absorbed the kid next to me. Big head, big frame, big ol' Northern European field-workin'/bear-fightin' trunk. And for YEARS I despised it.

I've tried more than a few different diets. The two that worked best for me? South Beach and Weight Watchers, both built around keeping your blood sugar in-check with lean meats, beets, whole grains (if you can't see the grain in it, that ain't whole grain foodstuffs), low/no dairy fats (AND THIS GUY LOVES THE FRIGGIN' AGED, FERMENTED, CURDED COW JUICE CHUNKS, people).

But lately I'm on the reduction. For a number of reasons, not the least of which is vanity. Yes, I want to look and feel better about the body I walk around with, and put on stages in front of people. They deserve better. As does my wife. I want to look better for her, too. Also, for LONGEVITY. Dropping 10% of your weight can greatly reduce health issues such as diabetes, pre-diabetes, sleep apnea, cholesterol, and back sweat.

If you have just 75 minutes a day to work out, your life must be very uneventful.

But if you have, say, 45 minutes to work out every other day... THEN CHECK THIS OUT, now with a special word from "The Biggest L0ser" trainer Jillian Michaels.

I don't shill for anything that I don't either get paid for or believe in. And I believe in Turbulence Training. Big time.

(CLICK GRAPHIC FOR MORE INFO!)

I've dropped about 6lbs of my body fat. I've put on about 2lbs in muscle. And I don't spend an hour in the morning on a treadmill only to return after work for another hour of tossing iron. And when I'm done working out? PUMPED. Not sore and aching and torn down. I'm tired, but I feel like I could eat a mountain lion.

Work, quickly, intensely, and you can shape your body quickly, intensely. Or take the loooooooong, slow approach, and we'll talk again around Labor Day.

I'm staying on it. The only thing holding me back, like I said, is not applying smarter eating principles. But these are sacrifices I will make for the good of my Self, Body, and Life. That's worth it, to me.

But I still love Iced Cream and Cheese. Forever.

Coming soon... "pictures" of the Geoff. Sorry.

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Phoning It In

A person's cellular phone device should only have as many minutes per year as aligned with their credit score.

Your Bluetoof earwad is no cooler than the phone hanging off your belt. You're STILL YELLING INTO THE ETHER 'bout whether or not you need long-grain rices.

You are not a bigshot. BigShots don't take their own calls. And when they do, they don't take them in line waiting for a half-pound of pimento loaf.

I've never heard a cell phone conversation that HAD TO BE CONDUCTED right at that moment. I always end my calls in public quickly, dashing out of the area, saying "You say a prayer, cut that blue wire, and pray to William H. Macy that we guessed right."

Next time somebody is walking around yammering on their phone, talking loudly, do the right thing. Take notes. Follow them around and write down everything they said. Afterall, it's public, they obviously want people to know what they're talking about.

If you can't describe how cellular communication works, you shouldn't have a phone. Or a registered voter's card. Or children. Ever.

I work with a woman who is having a conversation about her sister-in-law's breastmilk not being enough for the new baby. And she just said "So, wassssssup?"

Cell phones do NOT cause brain tumors... fast enough.




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Today Is My Wife's Birthday!

409 days ago, my Wife From The Future became My Wife, Alicia. It is perhaps the highest honor I have had bestowed upon me. I cannot think of a greater honor.

Not Guitar Hero III champion,

not Body For Life winner,

nor eating your IQ in Rocky Mountain Oysters.

Today I do my best to celebrate Alicia's birthday, because this woman is amazing. I mean that in the true sense, in that I am amazed by her work ethic, her temperment, her love, her efforts, her drive, and her outlook. I mean that I step back and recount the times I've done things dumb enough to make me want to have an out-of-body experience so I can crotch-kick myself, and she just laughs at me and works through the rubble.

I think one of the keys to a great life is to never, ever stop growing as a person, and Alicia is doing that. She is never satisfied with one thing for too long, she wants to make something better, prettier, or peanut butterier. Her self-motivation is often my motivation. She never stops making me laugh, inspiring me, and almost pissing me off. She is perfect for me, and I am a happy, happy man.

This past year we did something that was both painful AND annoying: We made a budget. Alicia did the real work, hammering out numbers and spreadsheets, I just whined about why I couldn't lay on the floor and play with my shoelaces. But we did it, and she's driven our budget ever since. And the renovations in our home. And it's because of her planning and ideas that we are doing incredibly well, and living a life open to the influx of blessings, friendships, and travel two people who have contrary viewpoints to MTV's programming deserve.

Alicia, Happy Birthday! You are the best person I could have in my life, and someday, we both know that I will be the best person for you. I love being your houseband.

And now a word from the cat.

BRRROWR?

BROWR?

BROOOOOOOOORRROWR!

Mmmowr?

(scratch your eyes)

purr purr purr purr purr

[draaaaaaaaaaaaaag my f*cking claws down your expensive duvet cover because I'm an asshole]

mmmmmMRROOOOWRowrowwworrr?

[Poop, kick it on the wall]

Happy Birthday, Alicia! I'm doing the best I can, and you deserve better!

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Iraqi Jumpeen Jaqs

This... is awesome...

If you need to get a laugh in and answers to questions like "Why aren't the Iraqis fully in control of their own situation by now?"... GO HERE.

Thanks be to M-Dawg for finding and posting this.
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Work It Out, Save Your Time

Holy.
Crap.
Tacos.

3 weeks ago I started seriously training with "Turbulence Training," linked over to the right there under the "Click Here!" thing...

too tired to type correctly...

After about 20 years of lifting weights and being on the bike and the stairmachine and all the meat-heads and attention 'bags, I got out of the gym and into the groove with this thing.

45 minutes, 3 times a week. And it will...
1: MELT the fat off your body.
2: Build meat on your bones.
3: Save you time all around.

It goes like this. Time * Effort = Work. If you wanted to do 500 units of work to get a good workout, would you rather have an equation of...

100 minutes * 5 effort = 500
OR
50 minutes * 10 effort = 500
OR OR OR
25 minutes * 20 effort = 500

Turbulence Training is about the latter. When you look at Olympic Athletes, whose body looks like it's in better shape? The long-cardio marathon runner (you have 4 hours to dedicate to it?), or the sprinter (15-45 seconds of pure strength and effort).

An example workout of mine is about 35min long, and consists of warming up, stretching, getting through 10 sets of weightlifting exercises, stretching again, then 15-20 minutes of interval training. The benefits are:

1) I save time and get a LOT of work done. Important when you have blogs to write and recipes to search for.
2) Intense interval training is proven to boost your body's metabolism during and after (up to 48 hours) your work out, including the pathways that repair muscle and burn fat for energy.

Have you ever seen a picture of a lion in the wild? They aren't know for their 4-mile gallops. They sprint for their meals, jog, sprint again.

So if you want results, fast, and without dropping $200 on a "system," check out the Turbulence Training link. I've lost 6lbs, 2% of my bodyfat, and am stronger than I've been in years. This works for women, men, kids, older folks, everyone. Check it out!

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Repost of Something Fine

I wrote this a couple years ago and just found it, and I can't say whether it's good or not, but it surely exemplifies the string of firecrackers going off in my head when I'm tired and ready to sleep but the brain won't slow down.
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Last night while driving home, I get to a 4-way intersection. A guy is crossing my right-to-left, and the cross-traffic is stopping. Pedestrian Joe has gotten the Red Right Hand light, but he keeps a-going as though he owns the intersection. I've seen him pee on a lamppost there before, so maybe he does.

Anyway, the traffic coming at me gets the green light, but they have to stop so that he can get all the way across. It's only one car coming my way, but PJ just... keeps hobbling along. Yes, hobbling. He was on crutches, did I mention that? And in a walking boot. And my only thought was "Dude, you need to get your timing down better."

So here's my dilemma. The guy's on crutches and in a boot, just heading to a local store for some refreshingments. He's got no backpack so he's swinging a bag of whatever he fancies, moving slowly... slowly... as he crutches, steps... crutches, steps... Not fully using the crutches to effectively double his stride-length. It's 11:15 at night. Where's the car? Why is he on foot? Do I have any compassion? When should I, or anyone, just roll down the window and say "GET THE F*CK OUT OF THE STREET. GOD BLESS," and mean both of them equally.

I figure it one of two ways: This guy was a cybernaut from the year 2007, when cars are outlawed, our minds wiped clean of their existence and operation, and only the royals shall use walking implements, slowly.

Or he's some guy who fell of a scaffold at the day-labor job, building another Starbucks in a stripmall, working to supplement the payments for his medication he has to take so his renal system doesn't fail. He can't afford to go through the court system for a settlement because his ex-wife, who took the car and the camper in the divorce before blowing his brother at Christmas dinner... at the table... she's gonna find out about the money and come after it.
So he takes a cash settlement, under the table, 1/10th of what he could probably get from the contractor, the scaffold maker, and the college kid he works with who keeps taking his wife beater off and drinking PowerAde and left the grinder that caused Crutches to fall across the boards. All he's got is his mangled ankle, a 3-pack of Winstons, and enough beer to make it through the weekend in a one-bedroom, no women, no music, no Living in sight, and I shouldn't take that from him.

Or he's got 6 DUIs in 3 years, used to beat his wife before she took the kids and smashed his foot with his Pontiac, shortly before she ghost-drove it off a cliff onto the tent where his brother's been taking Chinese immigrants for immoral acts.

Anyway, if another pointless, rambling, drunken, selfish, disjointed headcase crosses my path, they best be smiling and walking with the signal. My accelerator's starting to stick.

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Amazing how you can still feel the same way after all this time...


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Commentator Tots

Dearest Reader,

For nearly a year, if not almost a year, I have had no Comments section.

It wasn't because I didn't care what you had to say. I did. I do. I did do. I done.

So, do. Comment, that is. Feel free now to hit the comments and fire one off to me. I had 'em blocked out because of the sp@mming that was going on in my comments section. Now, I work with somebody who is human spam, filling my airwaves with stuff I don't need to know.

Wow, would love to talk about it, but there's a proximity to work and blogging that shan't be breached, unless one blogs anonymously, like a giant nerdload.

So there ya go. What have you to say?

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Who'm I Gonna Vote At?

First off, sorry for ending the title in a preposition. Old street joke... and yet Josh Sneed did it in his "Comedy Central Presents..." special.

Secondarily, I'm not endorsing, formally, any candidate until after the election. In doing so, I can maintain my record of choosing the right candidate, currently at 3-1. I took an "L" after the first Gore-Bush Blowout in 2000. More of an honor thing.

NOW, I am voting based on a few core values I have. One of which is personal responsibility. As much as I love the general platform that Ron Paul stands for, I also think he is far too isolationist for our world of cultural integration. And I've heard he's anti-coffee ice cream, so that's a big stinkin' finger in the eye of his record.

McCain came out and spoke about how the Government should have limited involvement in the banking bailout that arose over the sub-prime mortgage lending. In doing so, he called out the banks for their irresponsible lending practices, as well as the people losing homes because, oh, they didn't have their $h*t together in order to keep their $h*t together and not work off the ARM sitch.

In doing so, we don't have to drop $400,000,000 of taxpayer/education/health care/body armor money on helping folks who, golly, didn't realize that $2,200 a month is MORE than $1,400 a month!

Unless the banks go to China for money. Or Saudi Arabia. Oh... hmmm, wait a sec, this just got weird...

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Head's Lines

NASCAR: A widely-attended, wildly popular sporting event where people compete by driving high-powered cars for 500 miles. Even more impressive at today's gas prices. Is there a reason there haven't been more protests over the environmental impact of this sport, and it's attendance, all being centered around cars, cars, cars, gas, tires, gas, cars, and beer?

When is the BioHybrid 200? Pegging a Prius at 72 will be thrilling for each of the 37 people in attendance. Pitstops now include battery changes. (I'm on to something here) Sponsored by Canola oil and Energizer. Smells like hot pennies and hash browns. But nobody would ever support that because of the potential for boring, snails-paced wrecks.

ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A STATE AGENCY?

I received 2 letters from the Washington State Employment Security office (MOTTO: "Where your unemployment is our job!").

Letter 1 said they had to investigate a possible fraud in where I was sent an unemployment check for a week that my employer said I was working. I started the week AFTER the noted week, so we'll get that figured out.

Letter 2 was a check for a week in January that they did NOT pay me, because they screwed up and hit the wrong "bye" week after my period of unemployment began.

So they think they shouldn't have paid me for a week at the end, which is correct.

But they paid me for a week at the beginning, which was their mistake.

The FBI once spent $29million, 8,000 people, and 6 years to halt a Brinks banking theft scam that netted $2.7million. Totally... worth it.

BOTTLE IT UP
You aren't busting out a new bottle of water every time you want some, right?
Filter-pitchers.
Re-use.
Reduce.
Recycle.

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Makes total sense. If anybody needs me, I'll be under my desk AGAIN today.

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Microsoftspot

I love how, when using Microsoft Outlook, one of the meeting invites I had open wouldn't find a name, so it hung up.

When I closed the window via Task Manager, it closed the whole inbox, and all the other stuff i was working on in Outlook.

So next time your right-rear tire's a little flat, drive your car directly into a wall.
Brilliant.

Yes, I demand that my technology not F up on the simplest of tasks.

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Financially Advised #1

In the past year my wife and I have made huge strides in our financial health. It has been through hard work, grumbling, and hours of sitting down and making a budget that we could live by. By "Budget," I truly mean a Plan that is down to the last dollar being accounted for.

Savings. Groceries. Gas. Oil Changes. Property taxes. Personal Spending money. Everything. Every month.

She's done the hard part, by marrying me. From there, we took a class last year called "Financial Peace University" from Dave Ramsey's family of teaching. It changed our outlook on life, and therefore, it changed our lives for the better. I owe a gigantic blank check from the bank of my love to my wife for this. It works.

So I wanted to share some of this with you, what we learned, in case you've got some money issues. This ain't for everyone, but here's the first lesson we learned.

1) DEBT = DEATH. Stop pulling it in on yourself. Here's how.
A) Pay your monthly minimums on credit cards and debts until you have $1,000 in your Savings account. This is your Security Fund. Freeze your cards in a glass of water in the freezer and stop using them. They are holding you back and down like an anchor, giving you excuses to not do what you want to do in life. Stop. Now. It's like a drug, I know, I've been there. You'll have plenty of money once you...

B) Create a budget. You have to. How much do you spend a month on groceries? Do you know? Find out. Track it. Account for it. Gas money? Car insurance? Housing? Heating? Electricity? Phone? Internet? Do you really know? Only when you know, can you do something about it, much like a baby-daddy. How much are you bringing in? How much are you putting out? Get a spreadsheet worked up that shows where every dollar goes for the next 2 months. I'll send one to you if you need it, but you deserve the benefit of the effort you put in. You'll reap the rewards of a budget. I've never had more peace than when we did this. And every week we have money to spend on whatever else we want. Not a giant grip, but a good amount to spend on clothing, music, waxing, clown supplies, etc. And no need for credit cards.

C) Change your thinking: Building Wealth is Good; Buying Stuff I Don't Need Is Bad. If you NEEEEED to buy something every week, and you're still in debt, you're an addict and it's time to get some help. Britney, Paris, Kardashians, etc. shop all the time because they are EMPTY inside. Does that describe you? what are you filling your emptiness with? I fill mine with Comedy. And dark chocolate. But no longer do I drop $500 at IKEA because "it's time I get some new furniture to throw out in a year." The Joneses you're trying to keep up with either make waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more money than you, or financed the rims on another car they won't ever pay off in the garage of a home with 4 flat TVs they can't watch all at once. They are drowning in debt. You're sailing home to Wealth.

Think of how much you pay in your debts each month.
Think of that adding up in your checking account or savings account.
Now think of the vacation you could be on, RIGHT NOW, totally funded, if you didn't have that debt. What did you buy with that debt? Do you still Love it?

Is it time to change? Start today!
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Announcing My Retirement

Dear Friends,

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

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Last Fool Standing

Perhaps it's the tang of sour grapes, or the wet-end of reality's towel-snap to the bared buttocks of my hopes...

But Last Comic Standing can suck it with their eyes open. And I better get a finger.

I, along with a number of other Seattle-based comics, hit San Francisco, CA on Friday morning with an invitation-audition spot for the show. After reading updates from around the nation, it is apparent that the producers of the show - all of whom are possibly brain dead - are looking for a particular type of person to put on the show:
1) Young.
2) On the 7.5+ side of Attractive.
3) A lot of time to update their MySpace pages.


From what I can tell, this is shaping up to be something akin to "Road Rules vs. Real World + Who's Line Is It Anyway?" There's an entirely tangential discussion about whether or not REALLY attractive people can be, or are, truly Funny. But then it goes back to the argument that "Funny is subjective," and you have to make YOUR point about Comic X and I tell you why they are NOT funny, and then you tell me to F off and you stomp away in your DUMB-looking boots and your butt looks big and there's a cloud following you that smells like bad eggs and gasoline because you fart-smell all the time even when you don't fart because YOU SUCK for liking dumb comics.

For a recap of the San Fran audition, and a list of who made it through to the LA/SemiFinal show, check out THIS LINK RIGHT HERE.

The odd thing is that I feel like I was fooled this time. Like I had a shot at it. Nope. And not to diminish others who DID make it to the next round, but damn, when a guy as funny as Dwight Slade cannot get any love, then you KNOW the show isn't about Comedy. It's about trying to find sexy people who can be "funny enough" to be on a show where stand-up comedy is part of the equation. Dwight Slade, btw, is inarguably FUNNY. You cannot deny that. Try it.

So NO, I won't try out again.
I'll make my fame the old-fashioned way: COATTAIL RIDING. I will get some famous comic everyone else loves to love MY comedy, and I'll open for that guy for 5 months on the road, and get rich that way. Famous, too, but rich, mostly.

Every year, people tell me they watched LCS and then say "Yeah, the guy who won? He isn't funny. I didn't laugh once when he was on stage."
Well, my goal this year was to be UNFUNNY enough to win. I failed. Sorry, I guess I'm just too funny to win.

So if you decide to spend some time this Summer watching LCS on NBC, remember, it's not a show about stand-up comedy. It's not cast with the best-available comics, so how could it be? In the meantime, I'll be writing more and better jokes, writing more scripts, and getting emotionally ready for the grind of... well... that's for another time.

Rest-assured, my comedy will be on TV within a year. Tune in to COPS around next Valentine's Day.

One last thing...
TWO people from Seattle made the LA SemiFinal show, Jeff Dye, and Andy Haynes. I really like each of these guys and wish them only the best of luck. I did 2 weeks of comedy with Andy Haynes during the competition, and was impressed nightly with how far he's come as a comic. Jeff Dye has made HUGE strides in comedy since he started, and gets better all the time. They're both funny, they're both good looking, and they are both going to do very well, I hope. If Andy gets that mean mug off his face. Guy always looks like he just lost a bet to a blind man and has to eat what's in the bag.

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