The Geoff Lott Rules Live Tour Of Comedy & Talking

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Thursday, October 14, 2010

Dad About You

I had no idea that I would appreciate being a dad, nor my parents, as much as I do. Blessed I was to be raised by people who truly did the best they could with what they had to work (me)... I really put them through some sheeeit. If they knew the whole story, wow...

WOW....
I mean that in a Federal sense.
Wow.

So as I move forward in my life with the intent of being the best father I can be to my son, and maybe another kid in the future (homemade or off-shored), I'm learning a lot about the wounds we suffer as we grow. Science tells us all that before about 3 years of age our minds are incapable of hard-coding as much detail to memory as we have now. Do YOU remember all of today? No. Because it was snore-inducing, and that ridiculous excuse for a manager/man-ager/JCPenney shopper should have been kicked in the hamstring until his leg purpled up like his neck sores. And if you remember THAT, you need to get thee to a new job.

There's no real pause in parenting. I'm probably hovering too much - a Helicopter Dad - when I'm around The Boy. I like watching him, playing with him, and discussing what he did today, and what tomorrow's plans hold. (ayayaayayyaaayaaayaaaayaSHISHISHISHAYAAYAAAA! for the record) And anytime he's not in his crib asleep, you better be on your damn toes. I lost sight of him for 7 seconds tonight. Count 'em off....
I found him with lifting wiggling his hand under the toilet seat (With lock in place!) and splashing the water. I had only to hope that it was NOT yellow, and was NOT left to mellow.

There's no rest until he rests. For now. And I'm cool with that. It takes involvement and energy and intent. I can see where parents go nutlog during this time. I can see how people thrive in this pattern. I can see a bottle of Blueberry Vodka waiting for me in Salem, OR in a few weeks when I hit it for a road gig. I can see 5 years from now really missing the time when Graham "was" this age and how easy it was then.

I'm not a benevolent being in all this; I'm a human being trying to do what I think is the best I can with what I have. I didn't take parenting classes for this. I can change diapers and feed him By The Book, but everything else is gut-reaction. When it stinks, get rid of it. Choking is bad. Fire is worse. Spiders are everywhere and are all trying to kidnap the baby. So are Eastern Bloc immigrants, looking for a facial mole antidote.

I don't expect an award or some bullsh*t mug declaring ME as "The World's Greatest Dad." It's incredibly subjective as a competition that shouldn't even be taking place, and scoring is always biased to the older guys who are emotionally detached from work, and multiple kids and distant wives. All the same, there's a different kind of satisfaction in getting my son laughing than there is getting 500 audience members laughing. A bigger one. A better satisfaction unlike anything.

Then again, I haven't made a baby with Salma Hayek.

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Friday, October 08, 2010

Booze Clues on I-1100 and I-1105 (a nod to Chilidog Dennison)

Washington State is broke. We have a deficit for social services which include Police and Fire Departments. Our public education system progresses, but teeters. Voters keep saying "No Taxes" yet forget that Taxes are what keep potholes filled, crosswalks lit, and school programs open long enough for them to go to work and make money to pay to the OTHER F'ed-up Washington.

If you own a bar, drink a fair amount, enjoy alcohol, enjoy sanity, worry about DUIs, and want to see how you'd be affected YOU MUST CHECK OUT THESE 2 LINKS!!!

There are 2 initiatives (I-1100, I-1105) we have coming up for Vote in November in WA State regarding Alcohol. While we can all agree with Homer J. Simpson that booze is the "Cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems." It was actually a great writer, not Homer, but I digress...
These initiatives are intended to deregulate and free-up the current state of liquor sales in the state. They are relatively arcane and do need an overhaul. Currently, you can only purchase hard liquor/spirits through a state-run store. It provides tens to hundreds of millions of dollars each year into the quickly-emptying coffers of our state. Distribution isn't real slick to the bars and restaurants, either.

I-1100 (PRIVATIZE) states, per the WA Secretary Of State:
This measure would direct the liquor control board to close all state liquor stores; terminate contracts with private stores selling liquor; and authorize the state to issue licenses that allow spirits (hard liquor) to be sold, distributed, and imported by private parties. It would repeal uniform pricing and certain other requirements governing business operations for distributors and producers of beer and wine. Stores that held contracts to sell spirits could convert to liquor retailer licenses.

I-1105 (REVISE) states, per the WA Secretary Of State:
This measure would direct the liquor control board to close all state liquor stores and to license qualified private parties as spirits retailers or distributors. It would require licensees to pay the state a percentage of their first five years of gross spirits sales; repeal certain taxes on retail spirits sales; and direct the board to recommend to the legislature a tax to be paid by spirits distributors. It would revise other laws concerning spirits.

So, 1100 removes the State as the gatekeeper to booze.
1105 revises the rules to allow private sellers (Costco, Safeway, Bartells, etc.) to get licenses to sell booze, give a portion back to the state for 5 years and repeal other taxes.

Here's my take as a mid-30's married man whose work as a Comedian happens in bars and clubs with most people drinking a'cahaul:
1) Our state's too broke to give up the nearly $500M we'd lose over the next 5 years if these pass. We're too broke to give up ANY money.
2) To make up the shortfall, booze would have to be taxed so heavily that it basically would revert to the same bottom line it's at now, or people would have to start drinking they way they REALLY want to instead of responsibly enjoying it, and then there's a whole other barfpool to wade through.
3) We need new regulations and we need new distribution allowances; it's too costly and too clunky for bars and eateries to get what they need. These are not the way to do it. Too vague.
4) I don't want booze available in grocery stores, which already have kids stealing Energy Drinks!!! for crying out loud. A minor drinking alcohol should be up to the parents. (wink)
5) California sells booze in grocery stores. How are THEY doing?
6) These don't help small businesses. Costco, Safeway, and other big stores could undercut prices to other retailers, including bars and restaurants. It's not "Free Market," it's "Dominate Market." It favors big chains and high volumes.
7) I like shopping for booze with adults. I don't want to buy booze at a grocery store while I'm silently crying and my son stares up at me from the cart.
7a) Similarly, I don't want liquor available in gas stations and KwikMarts until 2am.

I am voting No on each one. I think there should be reform on the sale and distribution to Businesses that sell/resell alcohol, but the complete Slash & Burn of the State's involvement strips tax money we need, makes it more visible to children, and allows it to get into places with fewer restrictions and regulatory incentives to not sell to minors.

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A Trip Around The Son

My son turned over the One on his Anno-meter a couple weeks ago. It has been a bittersweet week or two, as we get into the YEARS and no longer the months of his age. He was a “baby” for so long. Now a Toddler, he’s been hinting at his need for fewer naps, more food, walking around, and a studio apartment. The past year has, at times, flown by. Other times it was a moment-to-moment grind due to a lack of sleep, not sleeping, bad weather, sleeplessness, and not knowing what to do with a tired baby and wife. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Being a dad has made me reassess everything I thought I knew about Life, Love, and Sacrifice. I don’t think that what we’re doing is “special” nor “immaculate.” A lot of folks are doing this by the seat of their sweatpants, or not doing a damn thing. We are doing our damndest to raise a good kid in a loving environment while he poops his pants, learns to talk and read, and teaches us how to take care of him. I love my son, he’s very special to me and to a lot of relatives and friends, and as far as I’m concerned it’s my duty to teach him all I can about integrity, sleeping, and football. And whatever I know about women I’ll bring up in the form of allegories of “some friend” who “slept around” and got “the fire water” in his “weenis.”

The hardest part of the past year is finding out what we don’t know. There’s been a lot of that. And to get advice from people who either are NOT parents, or from parents with kids who have the personality of an un-oiled chainsaw can be very trying on the tired parent’s ability to not headbutt them. I’m grateful for the help we’ve had from our family and friends. We couldn’t have done it this sober without them. It’s tiring, it’s work, it’s a different kind of fun. It feels like the only thing I’ve ever done that actually matters. I see parents who appear to have quit on their duties, which isn’t fair to their kid, their neighborhood, nor the rest of us. If you don’t care a little about what others may think, you are a sociopath and should be sewn shut.

Here’s something that nobody tells you about a kid who starts walking. When a baby is crawling around you can hear them on the floor, slapping and sliding and gurgling. When a baby starts to walking, they will concentrate on their path and become silent. In doing so they enter a room, silently, and will show up behind you, scaring the bejeezus out of you. Awesome.

So as we continue to learn, our boy keeps growing along with us. The TV says he can read, but we’ll have to see if that works. I may just make the cards myself and find out that he can read blitz coverages, tort law, and cat-trapping schematics. Plus, I’ve noticed a glaring lack of toys in the “Professional Occupations” fields. Lots of tractors and tool benches and Li’l Arc-Welder! kits. Not many Lawyer’s Desks or Dentist Chairs or Li’l Protractors! Why pull sparkplugs for 40 years when you can be a celebrity rehabilitation doctor for a decade or two before a prescription scandal hits?

He slept through the night last night. He’s teething. He’s growing. It’s another part of Life, and though it’s not for everyone, I’m all-in, grateful for the chance to Dad it up with a healthy, happy Dootz.




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

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Calling People On Their Shit

In the past 24 hours I have encountered 2 big steaming shitpiles in the form of men. People, I suppose. Dudes. F*cking idiots. One at a gas station. One about 15 feet from my back patio, walking his dog.

Smoking Turd At A Gas Station
Technically, this human skidmark was still in his car while smoking. With his window rolled down. While he made a 37-point turn to get his car into position at a pump to pump gasoline, a highly flammable liquid, vapor, and industry, into the car he was in that he was smoking inside of. His window was rolled down. At a gas pump. The tank was on the driver's side. CLOSING THE DISTANCE BETWEEN HIS CIGARETTE AND THE PUMP. Which had gas inside of it. And a cigarette in the dumb face of a guy nearby.

The algebraic equation of these ideas that (A) Cigarettes are slow-burning fires and (B) Gas is Flammable works out like this.
A + B = CrapOnFeet could have blown the block way the F up.
Did not seem to phase him. I yelled out my passenger window;
"HEY! You're smoking at a gas station! HEY DUDE! YOU ARE SMOKING! AT A GAS STATION!"
Nothing. Did not hear me. Or did not understand me. Perhaps I should have Farted it in Morse Code? Farted Smoke Signals? Anybody know where I can get an airhorn?
I drove the F away. The gas station was still there this morning. I'm partly sad about a learning moment being missed-out on. I'm happy nobody got hurt, except for that guy. We need to make a law and/or a gigantic sign that says
"SMOKING AT A GAS STATION WILL BLOW THE SHIT OUT OF THIS FUCKING PLACE."

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Human Dog Shit

This morning I went out and got in the truck, and as is the yoozh in our neighborhood, a dude was walking his Rottweiler. In this case, it rang true that Owner Resembled Pet. Rotts aren't real common in our neighborhood because most people are either walking Pugs, Pits (lots of dour, Eastern-bloc'ers in velour), and mutts. But this guy's Rott was easily 95lbs. And was squattin' for a loaf-leave in the area outside our patio marked, clearly:

NO PETS PLEASE

We are anti-dog shit, not anti-pet. But not a lot of snake nor piranha-walking goes on, so it's PETS and we keep the left-behind doglogs to a minimum. So this guy's dog does what dogs do, and doo he did. Here's where the stank comes in.

The guy sees me see the doo get done, fiddles with a little doo-collection baggie, then walks off. SO NOW I HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING. Because ShitGuy can't bend over before 8:30am. So as he's walking away, wearing his FDNY hat (I'm positive he's never been a firefighter), sweatshorts and headphones and the smell of Smug, he's already looking for me to stop and say something.

So let's get it straight: He balks at a common courtesy, then gets mugged-up about anybody saying anything about it? Dog Shit in Man Suit, this one's for you.

I roll down my window and say "Excuse me, I see you neglected to pick up after your dog."
ManDogShit: (curtly) "Yeah, I will."
Captain Doo-Not: "We try to keep the area clean because kids play around there, and we all pick up after our pets."
DogManShit: (holier than thou) "Yeah, I'll get it on the way back."
Captain ShitYouNot: "Thank you, we all gotta do our part."
HumanDogAssPoopBreathDivorcedShit: "Right, yeah."

Then I go off to work. And don't think I could not wait to get home and see if there was shit outside my patio! I hoped there'd be shit outside my patio! BIG OLD DOG SHIT PILES OF SHIT!!! Because I was gonna say something about it!

There wasn't. No doo. He picked it up. Or somebody did. Or maybe he hid it somewhere nearby and I can't find it. Mostly it's The Attitude his sphinctered-forth that was a bother.

We all have shit to clean up in life. Shit happens. It's Part Of The Gig. And you know when you have to clean it up, AND NOBODY LIKES BEING TOLD TO CLEAN UP THEIR SHIT...

So don't make somebody have to.


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

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Work It Out; P90X Review

I bought the P90X system a while ago. It was my intent to dedicate myself to every aspect of the fitness program in order to achieve the sexiest body I possibly could. Because that’s important. Being sexy is important. It says so on the TV. Sexy, you’re not enough of it. Get more of it in 90 Days!

The cost isn’t too crazy compared to what you’d spend on a membership sign-up fee at a gym that has good equipment, sexy people, and middle-aged immigrants working out in their jeans and khakis. And you would get to smell other people’s sweat and body odor. I remember one guy at the last gym I was a member of, he did a lot of indoor tanning and often smelled like a burnt blackberry. This is all missing from the P90X experience.

The upside of P90X is that you will get your money’s worth if you want a challenging system of workouts. You’ll get in shape quickly and notice within a week some changes to your physique. If you follow the nutrition plan (80% of your success comes from this) you are well on your way to the sexy physique of your dreams of sexiness. This is a Full Fitness System, and the only thing you need to bring to it is about an hour a day, and the right attitude. Because you’re gonna work your ass off if you’re ready.

What it did for me:
Weightloss
– No. My weight stayed steady for 60 days, and after that much time I said "F it." It fluctuated 2lbs up & down during a week. I did not perfectly follow the nutrition plan because, like most plans, it would require about an hour of food preparation a day. I did drop my bodyfat percentage about 3%. Certain areas feel sexier than others. I went back to the Turbulence Training, short, intense workouts.
Muscling Up – Yes. I got stronger and packed on some muscle, in my arms and back especially. Moderate weightloss makes you look more muscular, but I am positive I got stronger in some areas.
Fitness Level – Upped it. Cardio wise, jumping ability from plyometrics, flexibility. I’m in better shape. But not looking at that 7% bodyfat you see on the commercials.

PROS:
Muscle Confusion = Diversity of workouts – The workouts change daily and monthly. You skip the plateau periods, each session is mapped out for you, and you do a week of lighter workouts each month to “rest.” And the focus of each day’s workout changes, one day it’s Resistance, the next day it’s more Cardio based. You won’t get bored on your way to being sexier.

Intensity = Results – Each workout is about an hour long and if you hang in there you will really get your money’s worth out of it. You never feel like you’re not working enough. But you have to incorporate the mindset of INTENSITY to really achieve results. Don’t buy if you won’t try to get sexy.

Goal-based Combinations – If you’d rather just get leaner than beefier, there are a couple of combinations layed-out in the guides to get you there. If you want to really cut up and boost muscle while burning calories with cardio, there’s a combo for that, also. You define sexy, and go there.

CONS:
Time Commitment – Each workout is about an hour from warm-up to workout to cool-down. Yoga is about 90minutes. These would be shorter if Horton wouldn’t be talking the entire time in between sets and hawking other products, but hey, it’s part of the gig for getting sexy.

Intensity – That is, these workouts can be monsters. The phrase in the system is to “Do Your Best, Forget the Rest.” The best you can do is get in and start going the best you can. Sexy awaits. The people working out in the videos are all P90X graduates, and in great shape. If you’re not a real self-starter, forget it.

Extras – You don’t NEED a lot of extra stuff to work out with. But for the ultimate sexiness, you would need a chin-up bar and varied weights of dumbbells. They walk you through the variations you can do with the resistance bands. It can be discouraging to not have all the bells & whistles, but do the best you can.

If you have 6-8 hours a week to work out, get P90X. You can likely get free shipping and return it if you need to. It’s an ass-kicker, but like any workout sexy system, your results depend on your dedication and ability to listen to Tony Horton yap for an hour a day.

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Thursday, September 09, 2010

Where's The Sugar, Baby?

(secret surprise at the end!)
My son Graham turns his first year-young on Sept. 23rd. It's been a really interesting year, to say the least. His journey towards being frustrated with the public education system began in March of last year when we were told Graham's due-date was September 19th. I immediately did the right thing, got on the internet, and found that to be the day that the legendarily crooked USC Trojans were visiting the vaunted, hallowed UW Huskies in Seattle. And I prayed. I prayed to God that Graham would be born healthy, happy, and 3 days late. And God answered that prayer! As a bonus, God threw in a 16-13 win by the Huskies. Take THAT, Stephen Hawking.


In the past year I've found that a lot of people share a lot of their wisdom about raising and caring for a child. Many of whom have decades of experience without ever being a parent. Oh sure, they've kept a couple of parakeets alive through a cold winter or two. Or they are an Aunt/Uncle to a few nieces or nephews. And that's, hey, that's a solid foundation for making the childless look like an asshole by offering non-comedic parenting tips. No, we're not going to let him try wine again. Thanks for your input. Enjoy sterility.


I've also heard a number of people say that they don't like babies. Or specifically, they "hate" babies. Wow. Not that they hate MY son, just babies in general. Everyone knows the grave demands babies place on people who never interact with them, so I can see where the roots of that hate have taken hold. I never hated babies, I just was scared that I would break one. A year in, no breaks, minor fears, and all's great.

What's also side-F'ed is that some people feel that they can do things while holding a baby that somewhat endanger the baby, because a mis-hap wouldn't officially KILL the child, but it seems like it should entertain your baby. Like get them to touch a ceiling fan. Or swing them around by their tiny hands. Or hold them aloft with one hand while lighting a cigarette off the grill.
Won't KILL the baby? SHOULDN'T EVEN MAKE ME THINK THE BABY MIGHT BE EVEN A BIT UNCOMFORTABLE. There is no official Baby Police, but nobody has the right to endanger your child for their own attempt at entertaining themselves by trying to get the kid to smile near a snarling pit-boxer mix. This secret hate of babies is more bothersome than the outright hatred. Old women in a grocery store are the worst. Keep your dirty nails away from his face, Bernice.

So as Graham nears the One Year mark, we are gearing up for the Birthday Party, and a number of people have asked me what kind of cake we're getting him. My wife, foremost, has done a great job of introducing healthy food to Graham as he grows. We don't feed him sugary stuff or ice cream (maybe a tablespoon here and there) or a lot of processed food. He eats a lot of fruit, loves avocados, and digs salmon. Washes it down with a nice chug of jasmine green tea. He won't turn down a Mum-Mum, either. For a kid who eats a lot of healthy, whole food we're not going to jam a huge cake in his face so we can laugh at the mess and the sugar-rush. I think it's actually pretty cruel to jack a kid up on that stuff just for a few pictures. "Tradition" can eat my Bavarian ass. Maybe a little cupcake to have fun with, but 500 calories of sugar and fat, I just can't do that to my guy.
He'll have to wait for public school.




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Wednesday, September 01, 2010

Projectile Misfunction

Sex. Well, here we go.

I get a ton of spam emails regarding all sorts of pills for what a money-hoarding pharmaceutical industry - most of it not in America, God Bless 'er - wants men to believe is a major problem with their boners. Their LovePiston. Penisaurus. WangDang Doodle.

You can't get it up RIGHT NOW. You need a boner NOW NOW NOW. It has to be a throbbing and huge and flexed like it's in a Mr. Olympia lineup. Veiny. Rock hard. Morning boners are another way that men know it's okay to get out of bed in the morning. As long as THAT thing's working, okay then, we have a baseline function.

Here's the deal; there are few moments in life, less than 2 hours a day usually, that you benefit from an erection. All other erections are shunned, shied away-from, angrily kicked-at, and/or Tasered. And even those reactions can lead to that boner's persistence. And yet, it's not when you needed it, so HMMPH, you have Erectile Dysfunction.

When a man is a young man, the erection is an uncontrollable manifestation. Blowing wind. Loose pants. Tight pants. Shorts. Jeans. A properly-positioned peach. The peek of underpants over the top of jeans. Walking too fast. Sitting too upright. Sit-ups. The neighbor's step-mom. The step-mom's ankle bracelet. A bike seat. You'd be amazed at what ingnites the loinfire of a young man.

Throughout the course of a night's sleep, the average man's penis becomes erect 11 times. This keeps things healthy and elastic. And confusing. Do you NEED to act upon each erection's annoucement? Probably shouldn't. So does this mean that your erection is dysfunctional, or that you're just not fully embracing your erection? Some day you won't be able to get them at all. Think of that. You'll get a LOT done

Perhaps you can't get an erection because your brain is communicating with the rest of your life, and you realize that you don't have to be led around by the lie that is a drunken fumbling-'round after a decent happy hour. You may have a committed relationship, and it's now about quality and not quantity. And perhaps it's THAT mentality that is wrong... use it when it's usable, word? Stamina at an older age, an issue? Well, yeah. Because there ARE THINGS TO DO. And because most of the sex is sober. SOBER, fully-present S E X. And you feel everything and that's gonna wind the clock faster.

Anyway, you and your penis - whatever capacity that penis is to you - are fine. Your overall health will affect your erection in more ways than you can imagine. And being turned on, MENTALLY, is a great way to achieve a cell-phone camera-worthy cock picture. Stop thinking it's all on you. Maybe your life isn't boner-worthy. Maybe you're not ready to have sex. Connect with your penis. You may need to be penetrated by your inner boner, and feel yourself satisifed with, you know, the weiner that is your spirit.

Or take a pill, I don't care. Just stop making it sound like you have to walk around with a boner to prove you can get a boner. This train is too small for that.

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

Monday, August 30, 2010

Bus or Karma

Hey, just a note...

Aiesha Steward-Baker, the 16 year-old girl who got beat up in a bus tunnel earlier this year, was today sentenced to 15-36 weeks in a juvenile detention.

NO, not for getting her ass handed to her.

Instead, it was for an unrelated crime...
wherein she and another girl her age...

ASSAULTED A 50 YEAR-OLD WOMAN, beat her up, pulled hair from her head, and stole her purse and cell phone. She was arrested for this.

Then she was beaten in the bus tunnel.
So heads-up, folks.

Karma rides Metro.


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

Eating Out: 2nd Hand Canlis

I've eaten at Canlis ONE TIME. It was ethereal. It is the Highest of Classes. It is expensive. It is worth it. Every moment from the valet to the final check to walking out with most of your understuff not exposed, worth every bit of the $190 I spent on appetizers.

Kidding. They don't have "appetizers," dirtload. Frigging great food. They do a few things and they do each of them perfectly +2 (including "surprise" and "butter.").

We have a "dress code" where I am consulting.
It basically can be summed up in these words:
"Don't wear jeans before Friday."

Not $180 jeans. Not $20 jeans. Not well-washed, properly-fit-to-flatter jeans. Not baggy jeans wit' yo ayass hanging 'bove da sagg. Nuh-uh. No jeans.

Cargo pants? Sure.
Luau shirt? Aloha.
Smell like a batting helmet? No problem.
Khakis that upon closer-look are denim? Okay, nobody's gonna tattle.
Utili-kilt? Evenutally I will find out.
Utility camping pants that zip-off above the knee to become shorts? YES.

This last choice was made by a guy who works as a database blah-blah and wears his beard and hair "unkempt." Skullet to a ponytail. Long beard. Usually eating loudly somewhere. Grumpy. In pants that could zzzzzoooooooeeep! into a pair of pasty leg-baring shorts in a heartbeat.

Long story short, the eye-test doesn't show him to be somebody who would saddle up at a 4-star restaurant long-known as THE 4-Star in Seattle (up there with Rover's) and settle into a well-versed meal. Yet he DID that over the weekend. Then walked around complaining to people all day about how expensive it is. And the service was bad. And how he felt uncomfortable.

You dine. You do not EAT. There is no GORGING. You ask for a wine suggestion if you're not sure. You don't point to the cheapest and say "THAT."

You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him understand that not all horses should be drinking at that particular trough. High prices keep the riff-raff out. I'm sure a pair of well-pleated khakis and a shirt with long sleeves was in order. Now damnit, bring me my cheese stix.
I've been there. I knew what to expect. And I was half this guy's age. Sounds like he wasted his time and money. Next time, zip those pantlegs off and get you some food on a stick. Leave the dining to those who'd rather not see your skullet.

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Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Not For Tiger, Nor For Elin

Elin Nordegren, the now-officially-ex-wife of Eldrick "Tiger" Woods, Jr., has already come out to speak about her divorce and the affairs her ex-husband perpetrated... perpetuated?... skanks he boned while married. She is devastated. She is shocked. She is also rich beyond belief. And I'm not sure I recall any story of her doing a normal day's work in her life.

I'm not saying modeling isn't a tough hobby. And perhaps the time she spent as a nanny for golf professional Jesper Parnevik was as trying as it can get for a wealthy, well-traveled family. And perhaps not having much of a working life as an adult is NOT justification for being on the blindside of infidelity. She "had no idea," according to her People Magazine interview. No, nothing is sacred.

She has now walked away from the marriage to the most recognizable golfer ever, as well as the top-earning athlete since Michael Jordan. She will likely have the majority of the custody of their two children. At 30 years old, divorced, and a mother of two with no discernible, revenue-generating skills, I wonder what Elin will do from here on out? Charity work? "Get away from the madness" with a few months in Belize? How about some Community College courses on bookkeeping and home-ec, get some life-skills to show your kids that Shit Happens, and you're not always going to be golfer-married as a fallback plan.

I think Tiger Woods is a dumbass and a cad. And that's it. He went for skanks, he fooled around on his wife and wanted to justify it for any number of reasons. Not my business.

But who gives a shit? In any of this? If you feel bad for Elin Nordegren, you better cry blood for those women with 4 kids and the abusive husband who will NOT leave home. Elin Nordegren deserves as much sympathy as a person whose car breaks down on the side of the road because they didn't put any oil in it. She had no idea. She never suspected? It's either a lie for sympathy or she is negligently ignorant.

Elin Nordegren and her hundreds of millions will be fine. She may need some counseling about Life.
Tiger Woods will be fine and still needs some counseling about being a Person.
Their children, if loved and guided well by their parents, could turn out to be the most gorgeous athletes of all time.

The most fly-attracting plop in this pasture is that the media cannot stop talking about it. I won't be watching it or reading it. But that won't stop me from blogging about it and talking about this on-stage. It reeks on all levels.

Hurting sucks, and I feel bad for those kids who will have cameras in their faces for far too long. I hope they go on to lead normal, happy lives free of ridicule from jealous, low-rent classmates whose parents don't know any better than to raise sociopaths.

It's Football Season.

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Tuesday, August 24, 2010

A Five O'Clock Foreshadow

I headlined at Laughs Comedy Spot a few weeks ago and quickly tired of my own voice. My act is touching issues I truly believe in, specifically the ridiculousness of a "Death With Dignity" act being voter-approved (yet we want nobody to say anything about our bodies), and how being nice to people isn't really worth it if you want to feel good about people in general. But I just cannot stand to hear myself talk about that crap anymore. I am seeking a deeper connection to my material, and that is exactly why I'll probably never be a big stand-up comedian star power who they speak of by last name only. Lott's in town, dude, let's see if we can get in for free and sit in the back. Maybe he needs an opener. I cannot believe "Avatar" was made for a half-billion, and we have so much more in this country that is side-fucked beyond Amercian Standards.


My life is Good, really. And that's a tough-shelled egg for the spermatazoa of comedy to burrow into.


I guess since the other car broke down I have "that much more" to ponder. Down payments, dealers, schedules... it's different now that we have a baby but no car to put him in... and all that comes with dealing with a car. And nobody knows anything but they know it all about buying a car. So we got it narrowed down, and the narrowing is harrowing because of all those issues of gravitas of Monthly Payments and Financing and Insurance and Being a Grown-Up. And I'm trying to not bring any of it up at work because, instead of advice, I would get stories about all the problems they've had with dealerships. Except for the TimeJacker, who would weave together some horsefeather story that included Self Aggrandizing, Misogyny, Homophobia, Narcissism, and Outsmarting The System. Sheesh. No thanks. I'd rather suffer a bit in my own silence.

Maybe I'm dehydrated. I'll have some water and see what comes of it.



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Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Mission: Control

Before I begin, I have to tell you that one of the most-annoying laughs of all time is the "Double-Gasp." A guy at work here does the short inhale-wheezing exhale-sans guffaw. From what I can tell, he thinks WAY too many things are funny. They aren't. He's not laughing-laughing, mind you, it's a nervous laugh to let ya know, hey... he just acted like an asshole!

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The need For and To Control is a familiar, annoying concept to me. It's that 'weeeee' of mosquito I can sense in the area but can't touch until it burrows into me and leaves an itch behind. I have seen it manifested many ways throughout my life, from Mind Control to Bladder Control. The control over the daily running of a household. The control over every second of another person's schedule. Most folks who truly desire Control shouldn't have it. They crave it like a drug to calm their anxiety over something being out of their grasp, wasting their time and GASP... stirring up an unresolved issue with their past.

We call them "Busy Bodies," "Anal Retentive," "Uptight," "MicroManagers," and "Assholes."

They call themselves, if self-actualized, "Control Freaks," with a giggle. I work with a number of these people. It's annoying. They love meetings. They love knowing all there is to know, instead of what they probably really need to know. And they have to guide, influence, allude-to, re-calibrate, re-direct, and lay the groundrules for whatever activity they are causing delays in by not allowing The Flow to take over.

This usually is a sign of Fear. Fear is a real bastard. Fear Itself, as has been said, is the only thing to be afraid of. And for good reason. It stymies people. Fear punches a hole in the gut of Comfort which can only be filled by Control, and madness begins. Look at Hoarders, for example. There are many kinds of Hoarders.


  • Love Hoarders; can't be alone, can't really make relationships work, abandonment issues, sex addicts possibly, in need of attention and validation.

  • Food Hoarders; afraid there may not be enough, they store and store and over-run their homes with food. Or they over-run their bodies to exert control of it.

  • Item Hoarders; the TV show "Hoarders" sums it up awfully and bleakly - people are burying themselves in their own CONTROL, wherein, actually, it is a lack of Impulse Control. Again... madness has begun.

The Need to Control comes from that little voice in the back of a person's head that remains quiet, until they FEAR they are in a position to be hurt or bothered. They overplan. They micromanage. They dig their fingers into places that don't need digging. It's an issue from childhood that they need to throw a lasso around before, you know... they feel the judgment of a non-present parental figure lay across their shoulders. Somebody MUST step up and HELP these other folks...


If they don't, well, people may not have any idea what to do on the trip to the resort and could end up just spending too much of their time at the pool or playing golf or riding the bike trails and if that happens then they won't see what a fantastic trip planner they are and how they thought of everything, everything except RELAXING which is really just SITTING THERE and how could you SIT THERE and do NOTHING when there's so much to do can't you see that really REALLY... I am only TRYING TO HELP YOU DO WHAT I THINK YOU WOULD LIKE TO DO?!!?!?!!
Madness


This could be a new "NiceHole," the "ContrHole."
The emotional leash that ContrHoles throw on other people is only as short and restrictive as those who are lasso'ed allow it to be. Often times it's a matter of keeping the peace. Sometimes you're on your way to Put The Cheese In The Fridge while being told to Put The Cheese In The Fridge, and the Control Lasso falls away. Whatever the cheese, whereever the fridge, don't forget that the only real control we have is over our own actions and reactions. Any infringement on that should be met with a kind word, an empathetic smile, and handful of fart slapped onto their nose.


This would have been better if somebody had forced me to outline it first.

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Monday, August 16, 2010

A Few Thoughts

  • Truth is, you're not gonna find better prices for pantry-staples than at Trader Joe's. Bread, eggs, dairy, coffee, cereal, sun-dried tomatoes, the entire pasta/sauce family, frozen foods, etc... (but not cheese) are, across the board, a better price and value than most any other store you will shop at.
  • The internet is as good for researching and diagnosing a problem as it is at creating paranoia and confusion over a proper diagnosis of said problem.
  • There's no excuse for a grown-man with a desk job to smell like a batting helmet.
  • Every fitness product is aimed at getting you to feel that your quality of life would be better if you were more comfortable taking your shirt off around strangers. In fact, that mindset would reflect a mental deformity no amount of AggroTrim could burn off.
  • Sometimes you're slowed down because the guy in front of you isn't driving well. Sometimes you're slowed down because you aren't driving well. Sometimes the guy in front of the four guys in front of you is driving poorly, slowing everyone down. Odds are you can relax and not tailgate me. If you're reading this, you probably don't tailgate others. This may have been pointless.
  • Time is one of the few resources we have, that we can actually decide how efficiently it is used. The best way to use it, often, is to remind somebody that they aren't allowed to waste yours, then put your headphones back on and finish your blog.
  • Though the Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions (who bid that job?), I truly never want to lead anybody down it myself. I've had good intentions when talking with friends or loved ones about an issue they seem to be tied-to, and it doesn't always go well. But sometimes you have to wake the person up to tell them their house is on fire.
  • I hope, in the end, I don't have the lingering regret that I didn't do something which could have greatly helped somebody else, just because I thought they may take it the wrong way. (See previous statement)
  • I really kind of feel like I wasted most of my 20's, but I did bring some key lessons of Life out of it. And I probably owe some apologies to a few people.
  • I think I'm an Ayurvedic type-B, but a Blood Type-A, which are similar dietary types.

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Monday, August 09, 2010

Ray or Lee = Big Trouble

It's happened again...
Somebody with the middle name of "Ray" done gone crazy AGAIN. Machete-Hacked a roommate for dirtying the sink. Not sure I'm against that...

It's a sure sign. Click on one of the Ray or Lee links below to see the other 6 articles about this stuff. No sure what it's about, it happens in nature, like eclipses and street-poop.

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Thursday, July 29, 2010

Bill Hicks's Principles Of Comedy

Bill Hicks is a name I found after about a year into stand-up. I didn't ever hear of him until one night when I totally F'ed around at a small Irish Pub, where the bartender told me to go up and fill time being funny between the band's sets, and he'd let me drink free for an hour. He lost.

(pointless rambling about how I found out about Bill Hicks in 1999)


Bill had died by then. Like many of the high-vibration creative artist souls, he was gone way too early. He was 32, and passed away from pancreatic cancer in 1994. He had quit smoking and drinking and drugging before he found out he was ill. The day he got his diagnosis, he got in his friend's car, tore the butt off a Marlboro Light, and lit up. WTF, indeed. There are videos of him performing his ass off until the final few days, noted by his consistent rubbing of his right side. The show must go on.

Reading up on him (American Scream, great read, and "Love All The People," his writings), he was widely regarded as the most-honest, unflinching, intelligent, socially-relevant, funny, and brilliant comedian of his era, and top-5 of all time (Pryor, Carlin, Cosby, Bruce, Hicks). That was the Sam Kinison era. The Dice era. The pre-"Seinfeld" Seinfeld era. The Denis Leary era. (Denis Leary's "No Cure For Cancer" is based heavily in material stolen, lifted, nipped, whatever you wanna call it but truly TAKEN FROM Bill Hicks.) He despised Gallagher and CarrotTop, Michael Bolton, and commercialism.

And after hearing Bill Hicks, I stopped doing comedy for 3 years because I realized how far away I was, and I sucked that bad and wasn't close to the principles below. So check these out. This is a philosophy. I love it, and find that I have been working from these for quite some time. Very validating, and all the same, just a flag to fly. So here ya go...


BILL HICKS’S PRINCIPLES OF COMEDY
1. If you can be yourself on stage nobody else can be you and you have the law of supply and demand covered.
2. The act is something you fall back on if you can’t think of anything else to say.
3. Only do what you think is funny, never just what you think they will like, even though it’s not that funny to you.
4. Never ask them is this funny – you tell them this is funny.
5. You are not married to any of this shit – if something happens, taking you off on a tangent, NEVER go back and finish a bit, just move on.
6. NEVER ask the audience “How You Doing?” People who do that can’t think of an opening line. They came to see you to tell them how they’re doing, asking that stupid question up front just digs a whole. This is The Most Common Mistake made by performers. I want to leave as soon as they say that.
7. Write what entertains you. If you can’t be funny be interesting. You haven’t lost the crowd. Have something to say and then do it in a funny way.
8. I close my eyes and walk out there and that’s where I start, Honest.
9. Listen to what you are saying, ask yourself, “Why am I saying it and is it Necessary?” (This will filter all your material and cut the unnecessary words, economy of words)
10. Play to the top of the intelligence of the room. There aren’t any bad crowds, just wrong choices.
11. Remember this is the hardest thing there is to do. If you can do this you can do anything.
12. I love my cracker roots. Get to know your family, be friends with them.


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Tuesday, July 20, 2010

NiceHoles: The Candyland Edition

A new NiceHole has been uncovered:

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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Sunday, July 18, 2010

A Nutrition Myth Laid Bare

Fat Burning Foods Myth
By Craig Ballantyne, CSCS, MS
Creator Of Turbulence Training (LINKY!)

I have to admit something...I am going to upset a few of my good
friends when I crush this nutrition myth. But if I have to
sacrifice myself in order to help you out, then that's what I have
to do.

So here's the final (and most ridiculous) nutrition myth...

The Myth - Fat Burning Foods Exist

This. Is. Wrong.


Fat burning foods are the "unicorns" of the nutrition world.

They do not exist.


And when you think about it, the term doesn't make sense.

How can a food
cause you to burn fat?

It can't.

Foods GIVE you energy.

They don't cause you to burn fat.

When you eat food, the hormonal changes in your body SLOW fat burning, they don't speed it up - no matter what you eat!

Listen, the experts mean well.

They want to show you a list of foods that will help you with fat loss, but it is a myth that "fat burning foods" exist.

And yes, they are right that whole, natural foods such as chicken breasts, eggs, nuts, fruits, and vegetables all help you lose fat by
controlling your appetite
and by not causing you to gain fat, but NOT ONE of those ingredients actually burns fat.

Now some might argue that eating hot peppers or caffeine or even green tea can burn fat, but do you seriously think that eating those foods is even 1/1000th as effective as a workout?

They aren't.

Sorry.

Instead, keep your nutrition SIMPLE. Focus on whole, natural foods and limit high-calorie, high-sugar foods to just a couple of treats per week. (ed. note: YOU WILL SURVIVE, PROMISE) Combine that with your favorite
Turbulence Training
workouts and you'll lose fat fast.
GEOFF LOTT'S ENDORSEMENT:
Check out Craig's website and products.  They'll make you understand why people are changing, and how you don't need an hour a day for 90 days to get in better shape.  Awesome workouts and nutrition plans.  FOR YOURSELF, that's why.
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Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Weight A Minute

I worked out this morning, like most mornings over the past 3 months, with one particular goal...

Kick My Own Ass. I want my heart to be thumping out of my chest. I want my muscles to be on fire with lactic acid building up, and feel like I could take down a full-grown puma or maybe a bouncer.

No, it doesn't translate to my daily life. I rarely have to knock out 4 types of push-ups and jump over a chair 10 times to get my point across. I have yet to be challenged to a Joke-Off with a tie-breaker of Hindu Squats under 2 minutes. But ya know what?

I like working out. So I do it.



I have been over 200 pounds since I was 14 years old. If you doubt me, ask any of the girls at my Jr. High and High School who wouldn't date me. My weight has fluctuated in the past 10 years from 220 to 260, the former being during a period of long morning walks and lack of proper hydration, the latter during a regimen of HMB + lifting HEEEAVY weights + eating 300 grams of protein a day, and drinking 1000 calories a night. I have never been what most people would call "svelte." The majority of the criticism of my body as an adult has been in my own head.

Until recently.


I have read hundreds of articles about nutrition, training, recovery, fat loss, fat torching, fat burning, fat teasing, methods, modes, and maniacal fitness. If you want to know something about losing weight quickly, you can ask me. If you want to pack on muscle, ask me. If you want to get shredded, ask me. Ultimately, I am convinced it comes down to 4 elements:

  1. Nutrition: The fewer processed foods you eat, the better off you are. The fewer ingredients, the lower the added sugar and flour and fat, the healthier the food. Protein & Produce. I'm not the perfect eater, I have days where I do bad, bad things to brownies in the name of Ice Cream. I put moves on Chocolate in front of my wife before. But I try to eat rightly 90% of the time.

  2. Exercise: Short,intense workouts are better for building a nice physique than long, thigh-rubbing cardio. If you've seen Olympic sprinters vs. the winner a marathon, you know what I mean. Look up HIIT, or check out my link to the Right for Turbulence Training. but you gotta MOVE. You gotta. Walk, sprint, bike, power-billiards, yoga, jiu-jitsu, cop wrestling, just SWEAT a bit.

  3. Attitude: If you don't want to exercise, you won't. WANT TO. I had to change my attitude recently about working out, from "Have To" into "Like To." I don't have to work out. I like to work out. I like how it feels to be strong, and carry my son around without getting winded, or being able to take one day a week and power-eat and not get down about it.
  4. Genetics: When I see stories about a guy who gained 80lbs in college, then lost 75 by cutting out that third cheeseburger each day, I want to staple his left-over belly skin to his thighs. His genetics aren't like mine.

Of course I'd like to sport a leaner physique, but I'm not gonna pummel myself over it anymore. It's not worth it, emotionally, to get caught up in my own thoughts about what I think other people *might* think when they look at me. I don't care. ))shrug((

I'm in fantastic shape for a comedian, good shape for a dad, and decent shape for a guy who is ready to enjoy life. And brownies.
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Tuesday, July 13, 2010

NiceHoles

NICEHOLE: Any person who, while "just being themselves," and not necessarily being rude or mean, still manages to bother the living shit out of you.

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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Monday, July 12, 2010

You Have God To Be Kidding Me

Excuse me while my brain tries to work on a Windows box instead of the Apple shortcuts toolbox installed in my muscle memory. If this ends up with a link to a document about reporting errors in double-looping syntax, one for Incoming, one for Archiving, I ask now for your leniency.

The other day on the way to work I saw a minivan! with a bumper sticker that read:
GOD DOESN'T BELIEVE IN ATHEISTS

Wow. I have a joke in that vein, that Atheists believe God is a construct of weak minds looking for a greater meaning to Life than "Eat, Work, Fuck, JetSki, Die." Turned around, I believe God thinks the same of Atheists, railing against people who are trying to do something other than act out in a way to make people ask "How could God let that happen? At a WalMart of all places!?"

I wanted to find out more about this person, follow them to their church, and see if they were joking or if they really meant it. Because if they indeed held steadfast to a traffic-facing statement in 9.4-cents worth of ink and sticker, then they are a horrific person pretending to know the Mind of God and should be held under a spigot of trucker shit. What massive asshole on feet.

I don't claim - especially to myself - to be the most religious person you'll ever meet. I do believe that Jesus Christ's edict of "Treat others with compassion and love, for the sake of treating others well, that they may act towards you in the same manner" is the way to save the world, even the parts we would rather see sucked into a burning lake of BP crude while waving American flags stitched together from t-shirts with hunting-related witticisms 'pon them. I believe that the Core Values of the Christian Church are alive and well, and that they are based upon Love, Acceptance, and Community. Notice I didn't say "molesting children, killing infidels, berating homosexuals, and stoning women to death for having an opinion."

And I believe that were it not for people calling themselves "Christians" who are most likely just paranoid fartpacks acting in a manner they really, really, really, really REALLY HOPE will gain them favor with God... while acting as if it's okay for them to act as a conduit of God's judgment/wrath... then the label of "Christian" wouldn't have so many negative connotations.

Also, a friend of mine who is as annoyingly vocal about his Atheism as a recently-born-again Christian at Bunco night, told me he attends weekly Atheist meetings to discuss Atheism, pool money together for events, and encourage each other to not keep the faith. Sounds churchy to me.

I guess I'm paraphrasing Groucho Marx, "I wouldn't want to be part of any group that would have me as a member because I'd probably pass judgment on them for how they represent our group and then I would think they are dipshits and I would stop going to meetings, but hey, at least I wouldn't feel guilty for not being around such a bunch of assholes."

Then again, who would want THAT asshole around?
Jesus.

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