Simply enjoy it. George died last year at the age of seventy-one. He'll be dearly missed - perhaps more so than Bill Hicks. In a time in which comedians are bumbling shit-pokes talking about goofy, corporate-approved shit, George will be severely missed. Let's just hope there are more people out there like him.
Transcript:
I’m a modern man; a man for the millennium.
Digital and smoke-free.
A diversified, multi-cultural, post-modern deconstructionist who is anatomically and ecologically incorrect.
I’ve been uplinked and downloaded; I’ve been inputted and outsourced.
I know the upside of downsizing;I know the downside of upgrading.
I’m a high-tech low-life. A cutting-edge, state-of-the-art, bi-coastal multi-tasker, And I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.
I’m new-wave, but I’m old-school
And my inner child is outward-bound.
I’m a hot-wired, heat-seeking, warm-hearted cool customer;
Voice-activated and bio-degradable.
I interface with my database. My database is in cyberspace.
So, I’m interactive, I’m hyperactive and - from time to time - I’m radioactive.
Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve, ridin' the wave, dodgin' the bullet and pushin' the envelope.
I’m on point, on task, on message and off drugs.
I’ve got no need for coke and speed.
I've got no urge to binge and purge.
I’m in-the-moment, on-the-edge, over-the-top and under-the-radar;
A high-concept, low-profile, medium-range ballistic missionary.
A street-wise smart bomb.
A top-gun bottom-feeder.
I wear power ties, I tell power lies, I take power naps and run victory laps.
I’m a totally ongoing big-foot, slam-dunk, rainmaker with a pro-active outreach;
A raging workaholic. A working rageaholic. Out of rehab and in denial.
I’ve got a personal trainer, a personal shopper, a personal assistant and a personal agenda.
You can’t shut me up. You can’t dumb me down
Because I’m tireless and I’m wireless -
I’m an alpha male on beta-blockers.
I’m a non-believer and an over-achiever;
Laid-back but fashion-forward.
Up-front, down-home, low-rent, high-maintenance;
Super-sized, long-lasting, high-definition, fast-acting, oven-ready and built to last.
I’m a hands-on, foot-loose, knee-jerk head-case;
Pre-maturely post-traumatic and I’ve got a love child who sends me hate mail.
But I’m feeling, I’m caring, I’m healing, I’m sharing -
A supportive, bonding, nurturing primary care-giver.
My output is down, but my income is up.
I take a short position on the long bond and my revenue stream has its own cash-flow.
I read junk mail, I eat junk food, I buy junk bonds
And I watch trash sports.
I’m gender-specific, capital-intensive, user-friendly and lactose-intolerant.
I like rough sex. I like tough love.
I use the 'F' word in my e-mails and the software on my hard-drive is hardcore - no soft porn.
I bought a microwave oven at a mini-mall;
I bought a mini-van at a mega-store.
I eat fast-food in the slow lane.
I’m toll-free, bite-sized, ready-to-wear and I come in all sizes;
A fully-equipped, factory-authorized, hospital-tested, clinically-proven, scientifically-formulated medical miracle.
I’ve been pre-washed, pre-cooked, pre-heated, pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged, post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped, vacuum-packed
And I have an unlimited broadband capacity.
I’m a rude dude, but I’m the real deal;
Lean and mean. Cocked, locked and ready to rock.
Rough, tough and hard to bluff.
I take it slow; I go with the flow.
I ride with the tide. I’ve got glide in my stride.
Drivin' and movin'; sailin' and spinin';
Jivin' and groovin', wailin' and winnin'.
I don’t snooze, so I don’t lose.
I keep the pedal to the metal and the rubber on the road.
I party hardy/hearty,
And lunch time is crunch-time.
I’m hangin' in - there ain’t no doubt.
I’m hangin' tough. Over and out.
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