This one time at band camp…

CampI never went to band camp. I did however in my youth go to a camp / ranch type thing for a week and its where I first learned to ride a horse. I don’t remember the name of the camp but its about 50-75 miles from here in another county. It was a Christian type youth thing with an emphasis on hunting, fishing, ranching, etc.

If I had to guess, I was probably 12-13 years old at the most. The place was run by this paraplegic old man in a motorized wheel chair. The lake had what amounted to a broken down helicopter on a small barge. There were ski ropes tied to the ends of the helicopter blade turned steel pole boom. The crippled old man would wheel his chair down to the edge of the lake, flop out of his wheel chair and then swim to the barge, crawl up, scoot to a chair on the side of the contraption, fire up the motor and work the spinning boom and ski ropes for us kids. We’d swim out one or two at a time, grab the ski rope handle and the old man would spin us around in the lake flinging flailing kids in all directions. It was a good time, and it was the first time I got to see some real pubescent vagina and think to myself, “hey that looks good, I want to get all up in that”.

Of course prior to that time, I had as a young man seen real life vagina before. The first time was Penny in kindergarten class flashing all the kids her junk during nap time. It was ok but at that time in my life I was more interested in talking about that weeks episode of Six Million Dollar Man or Baa Baa Black Sheep and drawing fighter jets, then some 5-6 year olds gash. Girls were still weird that smelled like strawberries and pee.

No, it wasn’t until I was away at camp and some old crippled man flung a cute blond 15 year old girl in a bikini with his chevy v-8 engine, helicopter blade, ski rope, child flinging lake blender who subsequently lost her bikini bottom that I knew I was going to like girls a hell of a lot. It also turns out I probably went to a camp as a kid that was run by a bible thumping crippled pedophile dirty old man, but thats a story I rather not think about.

You would think I would remember the girls name who had the magical vagina I spied that day at camp, but I can not. I can tell you what my horses name was that I rode and took care of all week. Chiquita! Chiquita was about 125 years old and had three hooves into the  Elmers glue factory and Old Roy dog food plant. How that horse remained alive so long I’ll never know. The blond magical vagina girl however rode a black stallion pony that could run like lightning. Man when she wasnt losing her bikini bottoms in the lake at the hands of the old pervert ski rope cripple man and wowing me with her awesome va-jay-jay she could ride the hell out of a horse. Had I been a little more older and wiser I would have put all this together faster and chased that young lady down more then I did that year at camp, but alas I am my fathers son and never been good at taking hints or putting the obvious together when it comes to women.

You’re probably wondering whats the point to all this and wheres the story going. I honestly don’t know that there is a point or why I am relating this story in as much as its simply a coming of age tale that has ultimately shaped my attraction in an ironic and slightly deviant way to the opposite sex. I really never found myself in later years getting involved with equestrian type bikini women with rather easy morals and the propensity for public display of ones sexual parts. No sir, I had to complicate things and look for rather conservative refined women with that ever elusive glint in the eyes that said, “after this rather boring intellectual movie we’re going home and I am going to redecorate the inside of your head with the level of slut I am going to bring to you tonight”.

I have gotten close to finding that girl a couple times in life. Its always the same thing, one or the other never everything in equal parts. All intellectual no slut. All slut, no intellectual. Conservative and equal parts slut, with a horrible side of pathological liar. A tall order in woman, yes but I know what I like and gravitate to. Why fool myself or someone else? I will admit thought in these days of my advanced age and the winding down of my biological clock, I have retooled and slightly modified my list of desirable traits in an ultimate woman. I wanted conservative, great sense of humor, loyal, honest, slutty (with me) type woman, now I have made compromises and realize no one is perfect. Now, I’ll settle for a sexy horse riding chick with a great vagina who will lie to me that I am the best and can tell an great fart joke. Back to basics and simple is as simple does I say!

Let er’ rip, tater chip!

Gonna Rise Up

Find my direction magnetically lightspeed
Gonna rise up
Throw down my ace in the hole

Whew! Where did the week go? It was like one minute it was Monday and uploading a blog and then it seems as if I turned around and now its Saturday evening. That was a fast week and I honestly have no earthly idea why.

There’s been lots of talk the last few weeks about how George Lucas sold the Star Wars franchise to Disney. Disney has announced that JJ Abrams will direct the next Star Wars movie slated to come out 2015. For those of you not sure JJ Abrams redid the last Star Trek movie that came out a couple of years back chronicling a young James Tiberius Kirk and how he got into the star fleet academy. I actually like Abrams version of Star Trek and thought it was well done. I know and realize a lot of the purists of both Star Trek and Wars probably wont agree but I think Abrams taking on the new Star Wars movie is a move in the right direction. We’ll soon see, I am sure. Don’t get me wrong. I would consider myself a Trekkie and I grew up watching all the Star Wars films, but I’m not some cos playing douche who dresses up as Lord Vader to go see my favorite science fiction movie at midnight on the day of release. However I am excited. Sorry, not sorry.

Last week I made some pork tenderloin with apricot mustard reduction. It came out pretty good. Usually whenever I get my swine on its strictly low and slow BBQ with either ribs, butts, or hams. I don’t eat a lot of pork chops, or loins nor cook them inside but this time I gave it a try and it came out well. Roasted red potatoes and squash rounds out a healthful meal.

I’ll close this up and hope everyone has a great rest of the weekend.

Be good to each other.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

I come in peace. I didn’t bring artillery. But I’m pleading with you, with tears in my eyes: If you fuck with me, I’ll kill you all.
—Marine Corps General James Mattis

Roast Pork Tenderloin with Apricot Mustard Reduction

I got inspiration for this over at If you are not familiar with Hilah then I would seriously advise you to head on over to her site and poke around. Hilah makes short Youtube cooking videos and she is awesome and funny with a capital Holy Shit! She is from Austin, Texas and has a flair for Tex Mex.

Anyway this is my interpretation of Roast Pork Tenderloin with a Apricot Mustard Reduction.  Todays pork is pretty lean, so the health conscious among us shouldn’t worry too much. As you can see I threw in some roasted red potatoes, squash, and zucchini to null out any doubt of bad caloric intake.


PorkTenderloin3Roast Pork Tenderloin with Apricot Mustard Reduction

Roast Pork Tenderloin with Apricot Mustard Reduction
Prep time
Cook time
Total time
A quick and easy roasted pork tenderloin. Pork is pretty lean and flavorless these days so kick up the flavor with a simple apricot and mustard reduction.
Recipe type: Entree
Cuisine: American
Serves: 6
  • 1 Pork Tenderloin
  • 1 Small Jar of Apricot Preserves
  • 1 Small Jar of Whole Grain Mustard
  • 1 Small Shallot Minced
  • ¼ Cup of Red Wine Vinegar
  • ½ Cup of Chicken Stock
  • 1 Tablespoon Fresh Grated Ginger
  • Salt
  • Pepper
  1. For Pork:
  2. Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees
  3. Tie off Pork Tenderloin with butchers string every couple inches
  4. Season Pork Tenderloin with Salt and Pepper
  5. In a heavy oven proof skillet (cast iron) brown Pork Tenderloin over medium high heat 2-4 min per side
  6. When Pork Tenderloin has been browned on all sides move to pre-heated 400 degree oven.
  7. Cook Pork Tenderloin in oven. Check every 20 minutes for internal temperature of 155 degrees
  8. Remove Pork Tenderloin and tent with foil and let rest for 10 minutes
  9. For Sauce:
  10. In separate skillet sweat minced shallot in tablespoon of olive oil and or butter over medium heat
  11. Add about a Cup of Apricot Preserve
  12. Add about ¼ Cup of Whole Grain Mustard
  13. Add ¼ Cup of Red Wine Vinegar
  14. Add ½ Cup of Chicken Stock
  15. Add Tablespoon of Fresh Grated Ginger or ½ Tablespoon of Dry Powdered Ginger
  16. Mix ingredients in skillet and bring to easy boil
  17. Reduce heat medium low and allow sauce to reduce by about ⅓ or ½
  18. Slice rested Pork Tenderloin and server with Apricot Mustard Reduction


Black bandana, sweet Louisiana

Robbin’ on a bank in the state of Indiana
She’s a runner, rebel and a stunner
Oh her merry way sayin’ baby whatcha gonna
Lookin’ down the barrel of a hot metal forty five
Just another way to survive

Hello faithful readers. Happy Monday. Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Happy Presidential Inauguration Day.

I miss Bill Clinton. Well let me rephrase. I miss Bill Clinton chasing ass around the White House. It nice to see he hasn’t changed as evidenced by the picture of him above snapped today. Stay classy Bill.

I wish I could tell you some exciting news about this past weekend. There isn’t much. New computers, big work projects, chores, and associated skullduggery and here we are.

Its the beginning of another week in the salt mines, and a President entering his second term. A president who thinks its absolutely ok to kill americans abroad with predator drones without any due process or the first constitutional check. Did you know that? Probably not since the administration is too busy figuring out ways to keep honest law abiding citizens from obtaining and owning assault style weapons with high capacity magazines. Except of course if you happen to be a Mexican drug cartel then its ok. The hypocrisy of this administration would be laughable if it wasn’t so sadly true. In the end we ultimately get the representation we deserve.

I have been watching the news lately in regards to gun control. While I doubt there will be anything to pass the house by way of federal law, I still wont bet against it. As a simple businessman with an interest towards economy, I bet President Obama would have been in a U-Haul right now heading back to Chicago. We know how that turned out. I won’t speculate about no sweeping changes in gun laws heading our way.

When I hear or read arguments about future gun control and the left or the right for that matter use the “hunting rifles and target shooting weapons are ok and no one needs thirty round magazines or military assault weapon” I cringe. Here is the bottom line as simple as can be explained regarding the second amendment.

A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.

Now people can twist this any way they want. Notice in here there is NOTHING regarding anything about “Hunting”. There is also nothing in here regarding assault weapons or high capacity magazines or clips. This amendment very simply states we have the right to bear arms to protect the security of the free state. In the context of the time, it meant people of Florida, or Georgia, or any other of the states could keep and bear arms to protect the state from the government or unknown outside influences. I know a lot of gun control advocates who either didn’t take a fucking history class or choose to ignore it, but I’ll help some more, in ebonics and street talk.

When us round eye, pale skinned honkeys first came here, we were a part of ENGLAND. As more and more of us came from England to this new world, we posted our asses up and down the east coast and called these new hoods, colonies, which we later after building some McDonalds, and KFC’s we called states.

Then ENGLAND said “Oh hell no. You honkeys has moved on up, you needs to pay more of your money to the King”. Then the tea came from England and the King said, you pay more. We were all like, “Fuck you”, and dumped that shit tea into the harbor.

Then some old guys like John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin, John Hancock, and a bunch of others from each state, hung out and drank beer in Philadelphia Pa. While they were getting drunk they decided to write a letter to the King of England telling him to eat a bunch of dicks. Also that for now on we were not part of England, we were now the United States of America. The Declaration of Independence was the fuck you letter we sent to king. John Hancock hated the King of England so much he wanted to wipe his cock all over the paper, but being a man of class and honor, he just signed his name real big so the old bastard would see it without his spectacles.

Now the smart old dudes that made up and signed the fuck you letter to the King of England knew the King would send an army to try and kick our asses. They talked some tall bastard with wooden teeth to gather a bunch of men from each state with their own weapons to band together to fight the war with the English. Wooden teeth dude was George Washington.

The english army showed up, George Washington and his collection of homeboys from each state, fought England and they kicked their asses.

We won our independence and became the United States of America.

Now when all this shit was done, the drunk old dudes in Philly who wrote the “Fuck You” letter to England, decided to write another paper. This paper was called “The Constitution”. This paper dictated how we as the New United States would govern ourselves. We knew how bad England sucked ass and that we didn’t want to wind up like England. A lot of beer was drunk, Ben Franklin screwed some French whores, and Thomas Jefferson got to writing shit up. Thomas Jefferson was a smart guy with good handwriting who liked the dark meat. The main idea was that all United States men were free, could do what we want, and no one person had ultimate power to rule. Checks and balances were put in place to keep any one person or group from ruling over another.

Things we’re cool at first, but then a few years later, when the dudes in Philly sobered up, they realized the constitution wasn’t perfect and needed some fine tuning. They got together again, and wrote another paper called the Bill of Rights. See they knew government and power of any kind left unchecked can get too powerful and just use the system to make its own laws and then they were right back to the old days of England and the King fucking with people. So being sober and smart, the Philly crew created the second amendment of the Bill of Rights. Its what I show above.

This amendment was very simple. People can keep arms, to protect their individual states safe from the government. If the Government got to screwing around and wanted to kick Florida or Georgia’s ass then the Florida or Georgia boys could use their guns, (same as the Government guns) to fight back if need be, and say “better slow your roll bitch, we don’t play like that”.

The founding fathers (Philly beer club dudes) knew this would keep the government they created from ever getting too powerful like England tried and taking away the right of free men to be happy and not be fucked with.

In the context of the time of the Constitution and Bill of Rights, the government had muskets and the free people had muskets.

Today our government has thirty round magazines and assault weapons. PAY CLOSE ATTENTION HERE. If our Government has these weapons, free law abiding United States Citizens are entitled to the exact same weapons.

Do you understand this now? You may not want an assault weapon with a thirty round magazine. You don’t have to have one. You may not need an assault weapon with a thirty round magazine, but if your standard federal government has one, then you are protected by birth and the drunk Philly crew to own that exact same weapon.

This my friends is history, and this my friends is freedom. There is no simpler way to understand the Constitution or the Bill of Rights or what the founding fathers meant when they created both documents.

Also understand your buddy down the street doesn’t need a nuclear warhead and his own B-52 bomber and we have laws to deal with that scenario. However every free, law abiding man and now woman, in this country has the right to own any weapon that his or her own government could hypothetically show up at their front door with and meet and defend their freedom with the same force. Thats the Constitution. Thats the Second Amendment. That is the last check and balance of TRUE FREEDOM.

Since those founding fathers gave us this right, hundreds of thousands of men and some women have given their lives to protect and preserve it.

This isn’t about hunting, or target shooting. This is about freedom to choose and freedom to protect and defend yourself in an equal and as aggressive a manner as our own government could attack free men.

Its the ultimate check and balance that keeps men free against any government we happen to elect and legislatively create. Don’t ever forget this or mistake it for anything else. Everything else concerning the second amendment and gun control outside of what I explain here is complete and utter bullshit looking to limit your freedom, guaranteed by many thousands of men and women who gave their lives to protect.

In closing, you may not want or need to have an assault weapon with a high capacity magazine. You do not have to buy or own one. Its your choice and you have the freedom to do what you want. What you and any government we create doesn’t have is the right to deny any law abiding honest man or woman to go out and buy and own these weapons if they so choose. Their choice to own them can be as simple as “Just fucking because” nothing more.

Hope this wordy and and rather simple explanation brings clarity to those seeking or needing it. Extreme and blunt? Maybe, but I would suggest you crack a history book from anywhere in recorded time and look at every single other civilization, period of time, government or group of people whom were disarmed or limited in their defense by those that ruled over them and see where they are now.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

I paint a picture of the days gone by…

When love went blind and you would make me see
I’d stare a lifetime into your eyes
So that I knew that you were there for me
Time after time you there for me

The year was 1989 and Skid Row was exploiting the popular trend at the time of the heavy metal power ballad. Its a toe tapper. Now I feel dirty.

I must hurry and change the subject to more manly items.

My niece and my brothers dog Spook.


She’s almost two and thats my brothers pit bull hanging from his rope. There is a small knot he bites and hangs there. The dogs half retarded and has breath that smells likes ass but he’s a good dog, and has never been aggressive towards Charlotte. Charlotte isn’t afraid of him and they play and tolerate each other. Being reasonable dog owners my brother isn’t very far when the two are together, but in any event, this is proof breed has nothing to do with the perceived notion of dog aggression. How you raise a dog and your pet responsibility holds all the cards to how your animal will behave around people.

Something else comes to mind and seems to work the same way. Guns. Imagine that. We can pass and or overturn breed specific dog laws and ordinances, but somehow we think if we eliminate certain assault weapons then we’ll magically be safe. Anyone see the irony in this?

Ugh, people are stupid, particularly the ones working in Washington DC.

People for years have asked me about computers, help them with computers, ask what computers to buy. I make no bones that for many years I have made a decent living making Windows based Microsoft products work. I don’t look that good fortune in the gift horse mouth. However anyone that has asked me in the last five or six years what computers to get I answer in the following way.

If money is an issue and you don’t care about shit software, constant vigil over virus protection, and operating system upgrade or patch up, then go with Microsoft Windows. You have some extra money, and want something that just works and is not a pain in the ass go spend your money on Apple.


Six years ago, I got rid of every single Microsoft product in my house and I haven’t looked back. Today I have continued that trend and upgraded my 2007 MacBook with a brand new model MacBook Pro. I have some work projects coming up and worked a deal with the ol’ employer. I am as happy with this new laptop as I was with the first one six years ago. You pay a premium for Apple products, but there is a reason. Its not junk. Fit and finish, function of the operating system and it blows Windows shit out of the water.

I’ll continue to earn a living making Microsoft products work. When I come home and want to use a computer though, Its going to be an Apple product. Call me a fan boy, I don’t care. Show me what you can do with your Windows product and I’ll show you I can do it better faster and easier with Apple. At twice the price, but I sleep at night knowing when I use my Apple products they will work without aggravation.

So all of you I have steered towards Apple products, I just want you know, I practice what I preach.

Today is TGIF. Its also pork tenderloin with apricot mustard sauce dinner day. I’ll snap a few pictures if it turns out ok and post it in the recipe section. Pork is pretty lean and I’ll throw in some squash and zucchini to health it up a bit.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

Lance Armstrong and Neil Armstrong. Three nuts and a trip to the moon.

LanceIf you’ve been watching the news lately then I am sure you know the name Lance Armstrong.

If you have breathed oxygen in the last forty-four years then I am sure you have also heard of the name Neil Armstrong.

Neil ArmstrongBoth of these men share the same last name though not directly related to my knowledge. Both of these men also played a highly pivotal role in shaping american history. It also turns out that chances are relatively high that both men may be in fact liars.

Lance Armstrong if you’ve been under a rock was an american racing bicyclist. After losing one of his balls to testicular cancer, Lance fought back and in the most triumphant way won the worlds premier bicycle racing contest, “The Tour de France” not once but seven times. Thats more wins then any other living soul. It turns out ole’ Lance pedaled his ass to seven wins with the help of illegal performance enhancing drugs. He has subsequently been stripped of his Tour titles and banned from competitively walking across the damn street for life.

We all know who Neil Armstrong is. He was the first american astronaut to successfully fly, land, walk on and return safely from the moon. In 1969 Neil landed on the moon with his pilot buddy Edwin “Buz” Aldrin. When Neil stepped off the lunar lander he spoke the most famous words in human history. “That’s one small step for [A] man. One giant leap for mankind.” Throughout his life Neil Armstrong maintained he just came up with the famous quote after takeoff and during the actual moon landing in the lunar lander. As it turned out ole’ Neil decided not to grace the earth with his presence one more time for good last year. Neil’s brother has since come forward and proclaimed that Neil showed him the famous quote some months before the actual moon mission in a drunken game of checkers, gin rummy, Jenga or whatever other games the most elite engineering, aeronautical, flight test pilots do when getting ready to strap their asses to the most explosive, highest powered, and complex flying machine of all time headed for the moon.

So here we are, two world famous well known men. Technically speaking both lied. Look at the perception of these men today. Both overcame seemingly insurmountable odds, were the best of the best and inspired millions of people all over the world for years to achieve and overcome.

I guess you can argue one lied and made millions of dollars with the false pretense of being an athletic superhero. The other lied about a simple quotation whom never basked in the spotlight or accepted his super human hero status. A super human status he most certainly was in all respects entitled to claim.

In the end what did the lies cost? In the case of Neil it shows he was a little more down to earth human and completely aware of the significance of the milestone in history he was about to partake. It would have been nice to know and see this side of Neil in the following years after his history making space flight. He wasn’t all straight laced, icy, engineering to the minutest detail type we thought he was. Neil was human and fallible.

As for Lance, well he may be a slightly different story. He clearly lived behind the illusion of his lies and in some cases broke his legal foot off in the asses of more then one person who questioned his integrity in regards to doping. Lance is paying the price for it now too.

To me the question isn’t whether he should or shouldn’t have doped, but how he lived with the lies of doping. Here’s a little clue about doping and the Tour de France. About 80% of the competitors are doing it, so in as far as an unfair advantage and soiling of the integrity of the race, thats a mountain of bullshit only the likes of a government run department of losers would make a big deal over.

Where Lance fucked up is that he believed the lies and used them to prop himself up to sponsors and advertisers. He should have kept his mouth shut about any and all doping, walked away from all accusations and never commented publicly about anyone or thing that claimed he was a cheater. Would he have still been caught and paid the price? You betcha. However he could have laid back, threw his hands in the air without the label of worlds biggest hypocritical asshole, and just said “I cheated and lied because it built and funded the LIVE STRONG foundation for 15 years.”

People will look past a bullshitter and liar whom’s lies and bullshit was used as a means to an end for a serious problem like cancer, or world peace. You go off sticking your one nut root into Sheryl Crow and sue the ass off some team assistant and newspaper that prints a story about you cheating when you know damn well you have and you can kiss your ass away. You my friend are next in line to a tearful Oprah Winfrey interview on a failing cable channel of depressed chick garbage programming. No offense to any and all you maybe  depressed Oprah channel garbage watching ladies.

In the end lying is a selfish act that doesn’t hurt you until it hurts others. If you’re going to consciously hurt someone else with lying, then you better make damn sure you’re curing cancer or walking on the fucking moon.

Let ‘er rip tater chip!

Take Away This Ball and Chain

Well I’ve searched and I’ve searchedLuke
To find the perfect life
A brand new car and a brand new suit
I even got me a little wife
But wherever I have gone
I was sure to find myself there
You can run all your life
But not go anywhere

Another Monday and another arduous start to another week. Ugh. Hang in there we’ll suffer together. Strength in numbers and all that good stuff.

First things first. Good news not so good news regarding the new Golden Retriever I was going to adopt. Good news is I found out his real name. Its Endo. Traveller is really Endo. Not so good news I didn’t adopt him from the animal shelter. Good news is last weekend his owners showed up and claimed him. I was a little bummed but more then anything I was happy Endo found his real owners, or more accurately his real owners gave a small shit about him and came looking for him. Glad he’s back where he belongs with his family. Folks if you have pets particularly dogs do the following:

  • Put a fucking colar on them with at least a goddamn tag and phone number
  • If your dog is an escape artist, or you’re a retard who lets the dog run free microchip the dog
  • If you’re going to let your dog stay outside,think aggressive flea and tick control
  • If your dog is sick, take him to a vet

So Endo went back home where he belongs which is good. Hopefully his family takes a little better care of him. The real happy ending is that what the animal shelter is there for and trying to do protecting and getting animals back home or to a good home is actually working.

Moving along…

I did not watch the Golden Globe Awards last night. I couldn’t give any less of a shit about what the Hollywood elite was wearing or their imbecile thoughts on say, global warming, or how bad Taylor Swift is in bed who keeps scaring off men and then writing songs about it. I swear if that broad could go down on some junk as well as she can pen an new blistering song about the poor bastard that took a try with her, I would champion her music until they found Jimmy Hoffa.

What I did do this weekend however was quite monumental. In fact it deserves trumpets and angels playing harps! It’s so big I question whether I have the strength and words to convey such amaze balls here on this little blog. Can you guess what I did? Are you sitting on the edge of your seat? Are you sweating bullets waiting for the big reveal? Are you reading along skimming forward a few words at a time for a spoiler about what I did? Are you screaming in your head “YES, YES, YOU SON OF A BITCH TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!”

Are you ready?

Are you sure?

Better sit down.

I pressure cleaned the driveway. My driveway has returned to middle class white suburbia with a nice fresh look. No longer am I that house with the mildewy driveway. I am now back in the ranks of “hey some clean give a shit dude must live there driveway”. I won the war against my driveway pressure cleaning procrastination. It was a long fight. I was up against the ropes from about October through December, but damn it, I fought the good fight. I was knocked down with power naps, NFL, Moonshiners and Axe Men but I got back up each time. I said to myself “you can do it, follow your dreams Brock, don’t let any nap or intriguing TV tell you that you cant have a nice clean driveway again”. So I kept fighting and getting back up like Cool Hand Luke and I was like “Kick a buck, Kick a buck” adding money to the pot in the poker hand of Brock versus the pressure cleaned driveway. Driveway and life against me all folded and got out of the game, and I won, with nuthin’ because sometimes having “nuthin’ can be a real cool hand!”

Then I made some raisin bread. See?

That’s about it for the weekend. Productive. Hope yours was too.

Peace and love or at the least non-violent acceptance in a friendly manner.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

What happened to the sweet love you and me had?

Against the door he leans and starts a scene, jimiarrest
And his tears fall and burn the garden green

And so castles made of sand fall in the sea, eventually

This post has nothing to do with Jimi Hendrix other then it was the first song I happened to hear today via the alarm clock.

I dont know why I bother to even set the alarm clock because I and awake and up before the alarm goes off every day anyway. I guess its just insurance for that first time in my life I happen to actually be asleep when I need to wake up.

I wouldn’t say that I am a morning person in that I wake up and feel great, ready to take on the day with a smile and a million bucks in my pocket. No not me. Not before I take the dog out, brush my teeth, take a shit, and get at least two cups of strong black coffee.

Then I am Hercules and ready to conquer what the world puts in front of me. I’m a morning  person in the fact that I rather get up early and get started early to finish early. No matter what it is I am involved in whether its normal day to day work, vacation, weekend chores I rather get going first thing and get shit done. Even if its my intention to not do shit-all, I want to get a fresh early start at it. A strange dichotomy.

A week into 2013 and I think someone forgot to tell Florida its winter. Mid 80’s all week. Air conditioner is still on. Sorry all you northern readers. Hope you’re not too cold. If it makes you feel any better, I may have worn long pants once since October. Didn’t need to of course, it was just to make sure I didn’t forget how to put long pants on. Got to keep those skills up. Use it or lose it and all that stuff.

I made hamburgers last night. I have been grinding my own meat for hamburgers. Damn that sounds funny or obscene depending on my state of mind. Yes, I have been grinding chuck roasts, brisket, and anything else that looks better than the pre-ground stuff. Its not any cheaper as far as I can tell. It does however taste different. I know this is crazy talk and I am still trying to really and unequivocally explain why this is the case. Its the same thing if you buy ground meat as compared to a steak or roast. However I assure you if you try and grind your own meat and make fresh hamburgers or meatballs or meatloaf it tastes better. To me it does anyway. It might just be purely psychological and in my mind. I am probably tapping into the primeval urge to hunt and kill my food and by cutting and grinding my own meat it somehow satisfies this genetic urge and somehow trick my mind into thinking my meat is somehow better. Ok, I know my meat is good, but really is it better then store bought meat? Have you noticed I am just trying to say meat as much as I can here? Meat meat meat meat. Ok Ok, I really did make burgers, see?

Well thats about it for this morning. Time to Hercules this day away. Be good.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!



First TGIF of 2013 and its all downhill from here.

I recently read a great account about General Robert E. Lee at Gettysburg. Lee’s horse was named Traveller and was almost and damn near as beloved as General Lee himself. I thought to myself “Traveller” would be a good name for a baby boy.

See I would name my first son Traveller, Wolfgang, D’Artagnan, Patton, or HecktorJulioJesusMachoComacho, if said son was born of a questionable alien status of a rather latin mother with an incredible ass.  My name is Brock for Christ’s sake. I just cant name my first son Joe, or Mike. (no offense to any Joe or Mike out there) I have a heritage of naming first sons rather unique and masculine names to uphold. <insert Luca Brasi paying respects to the God Father Don Corleone on his daughters wedding day here>……Don Corleone, I am honored and grateful that you have invited me to your home on the wedding day of your daughter. And may their first child be a masculine child.

To my knowledge, I am not required or have been consulted to name any sons this week. Can’t imagine why….but hey we all have our crosses to bear.

However earlier this week at work there was a turn of events that when they happened I knew what would eventually come to pass the moment they started occurring. As you may be already aware from a previous blog post, Tuesday morning someone turned in a beautiful male Golden Retriever. Here’s the story.

Every morning at the shelter as you can imagine there is a certain routine that gets done day in and day out. We essentially empty the building out, (dogs into outside runs) and commence to douche out and sanitize the entire building. As you can imagine an animal shelter with upwards of 75-100 dogs at any time can get rather “hairy” in a normal day or night. We have industrial equipment and a pretty good system with any number of volunteers and the job gets done rather quickly. It is what it is. Although we start this process anywhere between 7 and 8am each day, we don’t actually open for business until about 11:30am in order to get all things needed to be done, done and ready for the general public.

I generally oversee all this morning routine and keep volunteers organized. If we’re short on help I jump in to get shit done.

Tuesday morning I’m running an automatic floor cleaning machine. iPhone/iPod earphones in ears some Johhny Cash or Jennings or Haggard blasting along. I look up and what comes running down the hall towards me? This guy.


No care in the world. Smile on his face. Not scared or stressed. Not even phased that I have what amounts to a big assed vacuum cleaner and pressure washer running making noise. Comes up to me and sits. I bend down and reach out to pet him and he lifts his paw and shakes my hand. I swear on my eyes its the truth. I pet him, he lays down, rolls onto his back and I rub his belly and if you know anything at all about dogs, then you know his rear leg is kicking like Chinese chicken.

I have adopted a Cocker Spaniel from this shelter in the past which is at home with me and I have documented here on this very blog. I love Lucas he’s my buddy and a great dog. I am, as I have also eluded to, single and live alone. So in the dog category I am content. I am not actively looking for another dog. I have had two dogs in the past and its not unknown to me or impossible to manage. So with this knowledge, you the reader should have some insight to my mindset about more dogs.

Back to the story and I am rubbing this retrievers stomach.

I am not going to lie, I laid eyes on this dog and my mind said within seconds. “I am taking this dog”.  The other side of my good sense kicked in much like the conversations between heavenly angles and satanic devils one has in their heads when weighing out rather rash decisions. It went something like this:

  • Calm down.
  • Lets find out where he came from.
  • Whats his story?
  • Why is he here?
  • Do I really need or want another dog?
  • Its a beautiful Golden Retriever!
  • He’s not too old!
  • Seems in good health some fleas and ear infection.
  • We’ll send to vet get him medicined up and cleaned up.
  • Fuck her! Fuck her brains out!  Wait! Sorry that was Animal House not me.

So I momentarily get a grip and calm down with good sense. Whew crisis averted.

Dog was found wandering around a Walmart parking lot in the area. Some guy gets a leash on him, looks for owner. No one knows who dog belongs to and no one claims him. This fella brings him to us Tuesday morning and there I was scratching his belly and shaking his paw. Eyes as big as saucers, my heart telling my mind to “shut the fuck up” and well.

In the words of Paul Harvey, “and now for the rest of the story”.

I check the dog in and get some paperwork started on him. Scan him for any microchips (none) and get him a nice clean room in the bow wow hotel. No clue what his name is. Male, good teeth, good coat, no outward anomaly. He looks to be between 5-7 years old. Probably been wandering around a while since his weight is a little low. Some fleas, some hot spots where he’s scratched himself raw because of the fleas. Has a slight ear infection in both ears, probably from mites or whatever the great outdoors has gotten in there in the last however long he’s been on his own. No big deals otherwise.

We start him on some pills for the fleas, testing him for heart worm. Next week he’ll go to vet to get his ears fixed, a rabies shot, health check out, and leave his nuts behind in exchange.

The rest of the week since this past Tuesday, I have been checking on him, walking him, taking him into the fenced yard to run around and shit in peace.

I remained calm and carried on with emotions in check. I swear, honest.

Until this afternoons walk.

I walked him and I stop to really look at him. He nudges between my legs sits down and looks out at the pound we where near and where I was looking. Yea, that was all she fucking wrote. I took him back inside to his room, took a black magic marker to his cage card, and wrote “Adopted–Brock”.

I dont know where this dog has been and it angers me why someone would abandon this guy in such a manner. Unless by some slim chance his real owners show up to claim him, I know where he’s going to be as soon as we get him healthy and fixed up.