cookWhat’s up faithful reader? Hope this update finds you well. I certainly can’t complain. I have some news, some observations, maybe a rant or bitch or two and well lets get into the meat of it all and waste no more time.

Lately I have been noticing change. Change in everything really. Obviously things need to change and change is natural. I don’t mind change at all and if I am prepared for it.  I usually welcome change. However I am a firm believer in that once a person or item or situation reached its fundamental pinnacle of perfection or awesomeness then it should be left alone. Of course this doesn’t work with everything otherwise things become stale and life would be boring. So although I preach and welcome the idea of change there is just some shit I wish would be left the hell alone. I’ll give an example.

Fruit Loops! With the exception of raisin bran or oatmeal I probably haven’t ate cereal in twenty plus years. Recently I have delved back into the realm of sugary children’s cereal for breakfast consumption. Now back in the day before all this Michele Obama healthy eating school lunch bullshit and other organic natural food kick there was an entire population of Generation X kids like myself that mainly subsisted on Fruit Loops, Happy Meals, and Totinos toaster oven pizza.

Last week, I bought a box of Fruit Loops Cereal. Right across the top of the box, right above that crazy fucking Toucan Sam with his LBGT friendly rainbow snout is the words, “made with whole grain.” I was like “oh thats nice a healthier option for the kids with anal parents.” I search throughout the grocery store shelves for the “old school gangster” Fruit Loops. You remember the kind made with white enriched full gluten crackling goodness in the three basic colors, and lacquered in pure sugar and the finest of high fructose corn syrup that left the milk in the bowl a rainbow tinged slurry of milk sugar that could keep a kid going all day.

Here I am slinging boxes of this fake Fruit Loop crap behind me in my quest for the real Fruit Loops of my youth. After standing in a pile of semi healthy boxes of Fruit Loops at my feet, and garnering more then one dirty look from a passerby and the fat pig in the electric cart who could not pass my General Mills cereal barricade I realize this new healthful brand of Fruit Loops is all there is for sale. Pissed off I grab a box (hey I am not a quitter and will try anything once) and I punt my way out of the pile of Fruit Loops around my feet swearing under my breath about another lost childhood staple and how the world is in a downward spiral to hell all somehow connected to this new bullshit healthy whole grain version of Fruit Loops.

The following week, I crack open the box one morning and pour a bowl full out. Right away I can tell the actual bits of cereal while still round seem to be smaller and more dense then what I remember of the crack like full puffiness of the originals. Secondly theres about three to four more neon colors in the cereal that I know were not in the original version. I pour in some milk and resign myself to the passing of another staple of my childhood. The taste was ok I guess, and while there was some semblance of the sugary milk payday at the end, it was just not the same.

Why did we have to screw with Fruit Loops? What did we gain? A generation of children grew up eating the old Fruit Loops. Hell Fruit Loops are generally the first real food babies are given to eat. My mother poured the cereal out dry onto the tray of my high chair and I ate those circles of sugary goodness before I could say my name and not crap my diaper. This is where I do not believe in change.

IMG_1476Good Change? A little over a year ago I said goodbye to my angel Golden Retriever Lucille due to cancer. As of this afternoon I now have three dogs in this house with me. A Cocker Spaniel, a Mastiff bulldog mix, and a full AKC Dogue De Bordeaux. Yea I know I haven’t quite got past the point of wondering if I am slowly slipping into “crazy cat lady” like insanity but so far so good. Everyone is getting along, no aggressive posturing so it looks like the pack is growing in size.

His official name is Coconut Head. All my dogs are named after characters from the movie Cool Hand Luke. I pretty much have the main characters of the movie covered now. Lucas, Dragline and now Coconut Head. (Coco) for short. Coco handles all the bets for cool drinks. “Coco we got us a bet here!”

In reality I don’t call any of them by their names. They are all referred to some size of “nug” or nugget. I have Little nugget (short for butt nugget) middle nugget and now big nugget or big nug. mmm yea no really I’m not losing my mind at all.

Anyway this is probably it for me. As I look around the house its not crowded and there is plenty of room for the four of us, but as it stands I can probably only comfortably walk these three dogs at a time. Its also probably on the threshold of lunacy I’ll have to try and  explain away to any future girlfriends I may invite over here.

More good change is Apple finally released the new iOS 7. Lots of people commenting that it looks cartoonish etc. In the end I am finding it a step up in the right direction from what we had with version 6. When it comes to electronics and computers most people get used to something and denounce change but in the end change is good in this case. The evolution of computers and science is based on change and without change well we cant hope to survive as a species. iTunes radio is also about six weeks away from driving the first of the numbered few nails into the coffin of Pandora internet radio. You heard it hear first folks. Watch.

Anyone been watching the final season of Breaking Bad? I’m on that every Sunday night like stank on shit. I am going to be sad when the series ends this next Sunday, but with change there is always something more. Saul Goodman the slick assed lawyer from the show, is getting his own series on AMC. Yep “Better Call Saul” is getting his own show. It will be a prequel of sorts detailing how Saul Goodman came to be the scumbag lawyer we all have come to love. I personally can not wait.

That’s about it.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

Hello, Tap Tap is This Thing On?

Oh. Hello there. Where you been?John

Ok Ok. I know I have been away for a few weeks and I apologize. Work has been a bit hectic with the staff taking vacations and shifts needing to be covered. So there has been that.

I have also been suffering a bit of writers block. Not that I don’t have anything in particular to say or discuss. My block as it were is that I just haven’t felt much like talking. Well thats not true. Much like writing or even more specific much like typing. Nothing wrong really. I am not in any blog funk or anything. I can probably best classify my absence as a bit lazy, a need to observe with a side of my give a shit meter was sucking fumes. Just think about it like all the TV shows are in re-runs there was nothing to watch, football season hadn’t started and I was at the beach looking at the last of the summer boobs tits ass  well you know what I mean.

Now I am back. I’ll at least try a little better then one new post this month. Unless I win lotto. Then all bets are off. Well thats not true either. If I win the lotto I would at least make a post with a picture of me holding the winning ticket and a caption saying something rather dramatic in a fashion you have come to expect of me. “Eat my ass, I am out of here!” or something equally as appropriate and poetic. You know, classy and whatnot.

President Obama sure is sticking his meat in this Syria gas thing as much as he can. I have to wonder though what and or why is Obama so hell bent on making this Syria thing into such a monumental issue. We (United States) have happily stood by and watched other countries gas people and we couldn’t give two shits. Iraq in 1988 ring a bell? Saddam gasses the shit out of his own people and some Iranians. Hell the CIA was at the time giving Saddam intelligence reports on Iranian movements and where to gas the Iranians and the Kurds. That gassing was ok. No tomahawk missile strikes there.

We (United States) only sprayed 20 million tons of chemicals in Vietnam. Anyone remember Agent Orange? Anyone want to take a guess how many vietnamese have been born with feet growing out of their heads or tits from their knee caps since the 60’s and 70’s? If they even survived. Its estimated that more then seven million vietnamese have been affected by the shit we sprayed over there. Not even counting the number of our own guys and girls we screwed up with the crap.

Tear gas is a chemical weapon. Oh its true.

Occupy Wall Street?
Waco Texas?

White Phosphorous is a chemical incendiary. Its a chemical weapon. We (United States) were burning down Iraqi woman and children in Fallujah with it in 2004. All true

When you look back historically the US is really ok with chemical weapons. So I have to ask myself why Mr. Obama has such a hard-on for Syria when they decide to use it against their own people. Then it dawned on me.

Guess what is coming up in October? Obamacare’s implementation of the individual mandate. Starting in October and mandatory compliance beginning on January 1st 2014 if you don’t have healthcare you need to buy some.

What a better way to gloss over and cloud that soon to be epidemic cluster f*&k then get us into a mess with Syria?

You don’t have healthcare you must by January 1st. Guess what? You have to pay out of pocket too and you will not get anything from Uncle Obama until you file your taxes in November 2014. I am just wondering how the millions on food stamps, unemployment, SSI and other government sanctioned welfare that all love Obama will pay for healthcare for a year on their own in order to get a subsidy (which really is only a tax credit) in next years taxes?

Has anyone figured out that individual healthcare that will be sold through the state exchanges will run about $250 – $400 a month for a single person and if you have kids and a deadbeat dad to insure you don’t even want to know how many Big Mac’s Juanita is going to have to flip to cover those costs.

Friends the shit storm is brewing. May want to keep your eye on the prize and not be so gullibly swayed by some nonsense in Syria. If you haven’t called or emailed your elected representatives and told them in no uncertain terms “you vote no on Syria action or your ass is out come next election” then you’re asleep at the switch.

The irony in all this mess is Obama made his entire campaign and career of getting to where he is right now, blaming George W. Bush for going into Iraq on the premise of chemical / mass destruction weapons after 2001 when we learned there were those crazy enough to use them on us. Now Obama wants to grandstand after the fact when the kids and the babies are already dead? For what purpose? They already used the gas, the kids are dead. Old Bush trying to get to the weapons before they were used on someone innocent doesn’t look like that big of dickhead anymore.

Thats it. As the warrior poet Hank Williams Jr. once said. “I can skin a buck and run a trout  line a country boy can survive.”

Let ‘er rip, tater chips.

One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish

So this past weekend I took a little trip with some friends to the Bahamas. There was fishing, diving, eating, drinking, and a good time was basically had.IMG_1342

Weather was flaky as we got started Friday morning with what was left of tropical storm Dorkian or whatever the hell it was that made its way past where we were leaving and where we were going. A little overcast but essentially do-able. (friends have a very nice 28′ Pursuit)

We get across and dodge most of the rain. Check in with customs, and bitch and moan about how beautiful the water is in the Bahamas and how the geniuses in our government are criminally ruining the water where we live. Less then one hundred miles away and the difference is worlds (or oceans in this case) apart.

We were staying about twenty minutes away from where we checked in with Bahamian customs and decided to start looking for lobsters on the far side of Gran Bahamas. It was overcast but the water was still crystal clear and one could easily see to the bottom at damn near any depth.

We basically went old school in our fist lobster hunt. You essentially toss over two ski tow ropes from the stern of the boat, jump into the water with a mask and snorkel some flippers and grab the end of the ski rope and hang on. The boat pulls you along and you watch the ground for the tell tale signs of lobster. Essentially a lobster looking at you from a hole in the ground. You can cover much ground this way, and believe it or not once you get situated and used to things its like your flying along in the water.

We saw shit that first day. It was getting to about mid afternoon and we decided to go and check into the hotel. We stayed at a place called the Blue Marlin Cove. Its like a hotel / marina. It has been recently overhauled and renovated these last few years, and I have to say the place was really nice. New, clean, all the amenities it seemed. Well except one small one. Reliable full time electrical power.

At first we didn’t even know there was any issue. We check in, get the room, grab a bunch of stuff from the boat and head up. My friend Kenny and I head for a shower while his wife Talisa and their niece went about unpacking and setting up the base of operations for the next couple of days.

Lights in the room were working, TV on. Nothing unusual. I take a shower. Thats odd, little to no water pressure and its not particularly hot. I dismiss it all because well frankly I didn’t care. I am clean and salt free at this point and ready to relax. Clean up get out of shower, get ready to let one of the girls use it if they want then it happens. “Flicker” power out, on everything except a couple lights and the TV.  No water at all. Its like 4pm. We’ve been in a boat since 7:30-8am crossed the Atlantic between Florida and the Bahamas and Talisa and her niece have a look on their faces like, well lets just say, it was a look like “I should kill your two asses for taking a shower first. (meaning Kenny and I)

Now I have fought grizzly bears, mountain lion, an occasional homeless women in a free government cheese and food stamp lottery line. I was damn well smart enough to know not to say a world, not to look Talisa in the face and make eye contact. Don’t offer her a drink, don’t say shit. I have read Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus by god and this was a Nagasaki nuclear bomb about to go all level of “holy shit” melt down.

4:00 turned to 6:00 and no change. Sweat beads are starting to form on my brow. Then it happens. “Flicker” all electrical power is lost. No TV NO COLD BEER!

Fuck this, I am springing into action! “Thats it I’m talking to a manager.” I make my way back down to the lobby, chat up the assistant manager and explain how paying a pretty weekend premium room rate and not being able to shower or take a shit for going on three and four hours is bordering on unacceptable. We needed to start talking rate reduction, and comps but most importantly rectifying the situation as fast as possible. I don’t beat her up that bad because after all its not her fault its the power company. Plus really there was more cold beer on the boat and I just needed some quick refuge from the rapidly pissed off honey badger Talisa upstairs for sneaking the only known shower in the Bahamas a mere few hours ago.

7:00 ish rolls around, management moves us into a comparable room down stairs where hot water will return quicker when the power resumes. We get all our crap moved down, look at the clock its nearing 8:00 pm and “Flicker” power returns. Talisa and Rayna head in and get showers finally.

As I tell you all this, and as I have thought about this scenario the last few days, it occurs to me, this was and is more then likely perfectly normal. Bahamians much like every other Caribbean Island residents are essentially on “Island time”.

Power is at best mediocre in the Bahamas. In fact I picture some nuclear power plant with a Rastafarian Homer Simpson at the controls. Power is out to half the island? No problems my friend, we be workin’ on it!

That was Friday. Saturday we head out and check some “spots” and do some fishing. Weather was a little overcast and clearing. We caught a bunch a fish, seven or eight lobsters and came back to the hotel with enough food for a decent meal. Power was restored for the moment, and as soon as we got the boat tied to the dock, Talisa and her niece bolted right for the room and a shower first. Lessons learned and all that I guess. Kenny and I shrugged, and started cleaning fish and making dinner.

Sunday, our last day over, we got up and packed up the boat and checked out. Get a reasonable discount on the room for the weekend and we head back out. The weather Sunday was picture perfect and as is the normal procedure we hunt lobster all the way home. Ok not all the way but we damn sure spend a good portion of the day getting our share. Getting our share we did in just a few short hours.

Where we were diving for lobster was anywhere from 10′ to 20′ of water. In the Bahamas you are permitted to free dive and use a Hawaiian sling type spear to take lobster. Up to this point its been a few years since I have seriously gone after lobster in this fashion. I was rather surprised at first how I had to work to get down 15′ to 20′ on a breath of air and the 30 or 40 seconds I could realistically work down there before turning blue and drowning in an untimely death. As the day wore on and I stretched my lungs out more and more things got more comfortable. At least when Talisa wasn’t bum rushing my lobsters in her greedy zeal to kick my ass in the water. That damn girl can swim and hunt is all I am going to say and she is not scared. Its funny, then ego crushing, but in the end its all good.

We got into a rhythm whenever we would come into an area with lobster where I’d let her go down and stir up the hornets nest so to speak. I’d watch a few lobsters try and make an escape. While Talisa was heading to the top I’d go down and pick off and murder what was left or what she may have missed. In no time we were cleaning up an area like a bunch of strip miners in an Al Gore coal mine.

After a while it was time to head home. We pointed the boat west gunned the motors and headed back to the polluted and toxic Indian River Lagoon. We’re the greatest nation in the world, sent a man to walk on the moon, yet we can’t as a nation manage a lake’s level of water without destroying our own natural habitat and resources. Why? It’s all because some scumbag sugar farmers stroke big $$$ checks to cocksucker politicians. Sugar subsidized by the US taxpayer for all you keeping score at home on your “we’re getting fucked by the South Florida Water Management District” bingo card.

But thats a story for another time.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips.

Satan, laughing, spreads his wings!

Black SabbathOhhhhh Lord!

So last night after many months of anticipation I went and saw Black Sabbath in concert. Probably the first big name concert I have been to in the last five to eight years. My how times have changed. I’ll go thorough some general observations and tell you about my experience.

Over my life I have been to a good amount of live concerts of big name bands. In fact as I sit here thinking about it, the first concert I bought my own tickets to and got myself to the show on my own was an Ozzy Osbourne concert in the now extinct Hollywood Sportatorium down in Broward County, Florida probably in the mid 80’s. So seeing Ozzy back with two of the three original members of Black Sabbath is a nice full circle kind of thing.

Most of my live music experiences over the last five to eight years has been more the home grown, local bands, local venue type deals. I love the big name acts, but frankly I want to see new. I want to see the young jitter bugs striking out on their own trying to make it and if they got the spark I want to support them.

What started as more or less a joke some years ago with some close friends of mine who also enjoy a good dose of local music and dancing, whenever we would see a live rock and roll-ish type band, me being the critic would taunt the band (yes heckle, I admit I am “That Asshole”) into playing obscure bad assed rockers instead of some mainstream top forty bullshit to please the uptight old ladies in which ever establishment we were watching them in.

“WAR PIGS” became a calling if you will. A motto of mine. In fact I got so good at yelling it out, I have had at different times most of my well behaved, gorgeous, beautiful female friends who normally enjoy the typical top forty bubble gum garbage music come with me to some of these home grown rock bands in dirty hole in the wall bars, also scream out the request for one of rock and roll’s metal anthems right along with me. I am never more proud.

You know when you score a home run too. It’s your typical rock band, playing a local dive bar for $300 a night and a free round of beer. They are trudging through a set of Journey and maybe Barracuda by those two fat chicks. The looks on their faces show doom of playing some bullshit a bar manager told them the regulars like. Trying to make enough scratch for gas and grocery money. A few 50 something hags shaking their ass with the typical “white girl” dance. Then in-between some Creed and Chumba Wonga or whatever silly shit set list they made up, me in the back of the bar, usually shit faced and joking with my friends yells out during the awkward silence before he band launches into another career ending suicidal song by Foreigner I scream, “WAR PIGS!”

It generally goes one of two ways from here. A) ahhh yea we dont know that one and in their shame laugh off the misery of their lives (which really is just the misery of the old drunk asshole “me” pointing out that they suck balls and should commit mass suicide on stage) or B) they get a smile and look at each other like no shit someone in this shit hole with a sense of music appreciation, fuck it lets rip. They play it long loud and dirty. All the while the bar manager or establishments owners look on in slight disgust, while I proudly buy the band a round of drinks, jam $20 dollars in their tip jug/mug and sneer at the before mentioned pissed off establishment owners with a “fuck you” shit eating grin and dare them not to take my money for what I want to hear. A couple of hand shakes with the band during set break, some laughs and new friends made.

I’d say I am batting about .500 between the two outcomes but every time a B) happens, I forget one hundred A) over the years.

So you can imagine my happiness and my moment of Karma realized when Black Sabbath last night started the show with none other then “WAR PIGS”.

I just looked over at my friend Allen, gave him a smirk and said something like “Fuckin’ War Pigs, man”.

I dont have very many moments in life but last night was one. It was nice.

As you may also notice last night was my first real big name concert with a smart phone. I truly figured out and noticed “man times have certainly changed”. Instant access to data and live events anywhere in the world. Between Facebook, Twitter, and Youtube nothing is a secret anymore. You fart or see something happening in front of you and by golly it can be worldwide in seconds.

Its not Egyptian spring or a military coup of course, but goddamn it it was OZZY and Black Sabbath. There was people Face Timing with phones in the air. People sitting at home hundreds if not thousands of miles away watching War Pigs, right there with us.

There are no Zippos or Bics in the air any more. Its iPhones and Samsung smartphones. Everything is worldwide and instantaneous. Awesome.

There are also the fucking $13 beers and $40 Chinese concert tee-shirts. Nice to see some things remain the same.

Ozzy is the same too. I’ll give him credit though, he’s doing work and getting his money. Say what you will about the guy he started performing only a few years after the Beatles and the old guys is still standing.

Finally some really old frumpy lady next me me was blazing weed. Not just a joint. Or two. Or three. I am pretty sure this old broad smoked up half a kilo. Its been many years since I have partaken and frankly I have no problem with those that choose to use, but Christ, this old lady was so old and frumpy even in my mind playing out all the scenarios I had no urge to smack her on the ass with a “hey, you gonna share that thing?” which I wont lie in my younger days would have been a goto move for me.

Nah…I just couldn’t. I guess I am getting old. None the less with even a shower, I still smell like dope. All in all, some things change some things stay the same.

Let ‘er rip, War Pigs, tater chips!

The lord gaveth so the dinner club tooketh!

Whew! Another weekend has come and gone much too fast as is the normal routine. This weekend was a rather productive one for me which always makes me happy but just adds to the speed in which the weekends intended purpose to “slow down and relax” eludes me.

As I have chronicled in this blog at numerous times, there is a group of my friends and I that get together from time to time to host a dinner club of sorts. Nothing fancy. One of us will host a dinner in rather then going out to eat. We have a bunch of decent cooks among us each with some unique flair. This weekend the dinner club had a modified meet up. I’ll explain.

Snapper Trigerfish


Lobster season in Florida is coming up in August. A few of my friends and I over the last couple of weekends have lets just say, been preparing by scouting out prime locations in the waters lets just say around Florida. While doing our “homework” yesterday we also did a little fishing.

Before we knew it we had a cooler full of edible fish. Mutton Snapper, YellowTail Snapper, Triggerfish, and there may or may not have been some other fish which I can not recall the exact name but I think it rhymed with stupor or hooper or looper.  Whats the difference? It’s not important. It swam in the ocean. God put the animals on the earth for you and me to eat. Like good stewards of the planet, we only took what we could eat. Never wasteful and always respectful. Leave the place better then what you found it in for the next person to enjoy. Yea thats the ticket.

There is something extra satisfying when you go out and hunt for your meal. It also doesn’t get much better as far as eating or fresh and healthy. It’s one thing when friends get together, cook and share a meal. Its just another added bonus when those same friends can, do and enjoy going out on gods earth, stalking, hunting, and harvesting those animals to cook. So yesterday the lord gaveth, and the dinner club tooketh. We tooketh like a mofo with smiles and happy stomaches.

Dinner Club1

In the coming weeks I suspect there will be more updates to the modified dinner club meeting up and sharing a meal primarily made up with fresh examples of the earths bounty.

We’re a rather dynamic group of people which makes these times special. Conversations around the table range from beautiful eye colors we have been blessed with, to someones malfunctioning tonsils and her daily routine in its rather unsettling maintenance. In the end its laughs and the good life.

Edit: Names, faces, places, events, have been changed and have no relationship to any living person, place or thing and any similarities to real or actual people or events are purely coincidental. At no time were protected animals harmed and all state, federal and international laws observed.

Oh look a pirate just flew out of my ass.

Let ‘er rip tater chips.

Nobody, and I mean NOBODY makes Sheriff Buford T. Justice look like a possum’s pecker.

BufordTJusticeBy now we all know George Zimmerman has been declared innocent and once again a free man. Personally I am not shocked after hearing most of the facts. You know the actual case facts that were not manipulated by NBC news or purposely withheld by the states attorney’s office where they had to fire the IT director for blowing the whistle on the withheld photos and texts from Trayvon’s cell phone? Yea those facts. Well when I listened to those parts of the case, I can see why charges were not brought up against Zimmerman initially.

The DOJ spent our tax dollars getting emotional ignorant people motivated in marches and civil unrest. Our own government bullshitted people into believing this case was something it was not.

In the end I am glad political grandstanding and agenda can still not withstand a legal system so full of bullshit regulations and rules of evidence that something so simple as defending your life cant be stripped away no matter how half assed and a cockamamie reason you think you were defending it to start with.

Heres the bottom line and you can bitch and complain until you pass out things wont change.

Zimmerman had a right to watch and follow after Martin. The 911 operator was a nobody and had no legal authority to order Zimmerman to not pick his nose much less not follow or pursue Martin.

Martin had a right to tell Zimmerman to go fuck himself and continue walking home, into his house without fear of Zimmerman touching him or ordering him to do anything short of telling him to have a nice night.

Martin didn’t have a right to place hands on Zimmerman any more then Zimmerman had a right to touch or detain Martin.

Did an asshole guy watch and follow a punk kid? Yep. And its not against the law.

That is until the punk kid chose to beat a creepy crackers ass. Then all bets are off. Law provides for that protection and Zimmerman exercised it. Mostly though a jury has now recognized that Zimmerman’s actions were appropriate and legal. No matter the circumstances to how the two got to the final act of Zimmerman killing Martin.

Bottom line? No matter the reason or circumstances that get you to the point of choosing to beat another persons ass, you better make sure the fight you chose is a fight you can win.

Any racial issue or undertone to this entire saga was simply a manipulation by the mainstream media.

“A seemingly white guy kills a black unarmed kid.”

The blacks don’t give two shits about black kids getting killed. Look at Chicago on any given weekend. How many blacks have killed white people in the time this Zimmerman / Martin trial has been going on? Wheres the outrage? Wheres the NAACP? Wheres the DOJ Eric Holder and that idiot Obama? Where are the whites marching in the streets with DOJ tax dollars screaming about mercilessly being killed by blacks?

But you get the scumbags at NBC to manipulate a 911 recording making it sound as if Zimmerman is targeting blacks, throw in a little Al Sharpton and Rainbow Push, with $20,000 of tax dollars getting thrown in the streets around Sanford, Florida by the DOJ to march in protest and race relations takes a five year step back because some section of the population sees a nice fucking payday. It doesn’t get any simpler then that.

Justice for Trayvon? Are you goddamn kidding me? How about justice for all of us from a corrupt national media system? How about justice for all of us from a corrupt Department of Justice and Federal Government?

Let ‘er rip, tater chips.

Feeling better when I am feeling no pain.

sprainedassSorry for the delay since my last update. Between the long holiday weekend, work, pinching a nerve in my butt crack and my calf muscle getting strained because of the whole “butt crack fiasco of 2013” things have been slipping around here.

So now that the pink elephant in the room about my butt crack pinched nerve has been established I’ll get that part out of the way first before I start getting calls/texts/emails by all you poop heads that this is some coming out of the closet post.  ITS NOT. Jerks.

Saturday I was invited by some close friends to go with them on their boat for a ride down the inter-coastal waterway for lunch and whatnot at a couple restaurants with boat access. “Sure” I said. “Sounds like fun” I said.

So we meet up 9-10 in the morning-ish. Where we started and where we were going is only about thirty miles as the crow flies probably less. However since we’re governed by law to not make any reasonable time with appropriate speed that somehow saves and protects fucking manatees the ride takes about an hour and a half almost two hours each way. Little side note. Manatee is an old indian word loosely translated to fat ass cow of the sea who knows not to stay out of shipping channels where boats go fast.

We get to this riverside seafood place called something like Guys Bananas or some such crap. Tiki huts, eighteen year old waitresses and hosts with ass and tits that should be criminal and makes me think back to my younger days and statutory rape laws with age of consent issues and none of the math works out in my head, but I digress.

We take a hightop table, order drinks and a bunch of appetizers to pass around and catch up.

I sit down in this pseudo wicker barstool thing. Whatever no problem. An hour goes by. Voice in my head, “this barstool is killing my ass,” I shift around get blood flowing again to where it needs to go. Another hour passes and voice in my head speaks up again, “ok you bastard I warned you an hour ago, now I’ll shut off the right leg.” So my right leg goes to sleep. I shift around try to get some circulation. I am not smart enough to bitch or stand up. In fact I wouldnt say “shit” if I had a mouthful. Its just not my nature to complain and the conversation was flowing and a nice time was being had. I’ll live and I simply ignore the voice in my head warning me something was not right with my bony no ass having self sitting on some shit barstool. I was engaged in conversation with my friends and periodically leering at way too young waitress girls with tits and much more healthier asses then this broken down old man currently has who was in an epic battle with it on some shitty barstool.

Then my friend Amy sitting across from me just stands up. “This chair sucks”. She is such a damn showoff sometimes.

We finish up, decide to check out another stop further down the river and settle the tab. I get up and of course since my right leg is asleep and numb, I do that whole slow hobble, slap your leg to get feeling back and pray I don’t fall on my face walking back to the boat. I  make it back to the boat get on board without incident or embarrassment and we sail on for our next destination. Rest of day leg is half asleep but things seem to be ok.

This was Saturday by the way.

Sunday, I can barely walk. My calf in my leg is essentially useless. Like a sprain or the worst charlie horse.

Monday same. What the hell is going on?

Tuesday same. Ok shit whats going on here. Logic tells me I probably just pinched a nerve in my ass or thigh and my calf is strained. Thats common sense logic. The pessimistic voice in my head that was warning me Saturday was now telling me shit like, “what if you didnt pinch a nerve and you have some kind of weirdo blood clot that you got from sitting on the shitty barstool Saturday and since you ignored it now its going to break free and kill you in your sleep?” Nah cant be. Right? Of course not. My luck would be what happened Saturday with the shitty barstool is merely coincidental and I just have some kind of cancer or disease in my leg and will need to get it cut off. Thats more my luck.

Tuesday while hobbling around work, making my plans to spend the next eighteen months of my life getting pieces and parts of my body chopped off to this mystery disease originating in my calf I am comforted only by the notion, that soon I will be losing a great deal of weight without the least bit of exercise or diet intervention. Might as well look at the bright side. Right?

This morning:
Mom: Maybe you should go see a doctor.
Me: Maybe you should kiss my ass. Think I want to know the truth?

My thoughts and standard beliefs are theres plenty of time to go to doctors and hospitals when I am unconscious or more then halfway dead.

Didn’t I just post in this very blog not to ignore your health? Kids do as I say, not as I do.

So here we are Wednesday night. Guess what? Just a strain or something. Its not really hurting anymore and I can almost take a full stride. SEE I told you it was just a little fluke. Probably pinched a nerve in my ass or thigh and whatever my calf muscle took a vacation for a few days.

Yeah this has been the last few days. Now you’ll have to excuse me while I go pound some aspirin, to thin out my blood and prevent any clot that may be traveling to my heart or head waiting to kill me. I still am not going to a doctor though.

Love you all….. just in case.

Let ‘er rip tater chips.

A small update, some observations, an anniversary and other tidbits.

newdayAs you may all know by now from a previous post about my cousins battle with cancer, its with a heavy heart I have to report that Jess lost her long and arduous battle this past Friday.

I have been thinking about her and her story for a few days now. I was debating how to frame and relate such a story of courage and grace. The hardest part for me is the simplest. Its so cliche to say, “so and so unfortunately lost their battle with cancer.” Its a normal statement. Factually its a true statement. As many of you know me, I tend to shy away from the cliche and normal. To say my cousin lost her battle with cancer is as far as I am concerned a load of BS. Jess won her battle. I’ll tell you why.

For over seven years, from the time she was diagnosed this girl had a smile and such a positive attitude in her treatment to try and keep this disease at bay. Never a complaint. Never a bad word. Numerous surgeries, radiation, chemo treatments. After each surgery or round of treatment, this girl went back to work. Sick, feeling like crap, tired, she held her head up high, smiled and moved forward. She enjoyed life to the fullest and when faced with setbacks in her treatment, it was always a “Whats next? We move forward with positive attitude.”

I can’t tell you the amount of strength, dignity, grace and positive attitude this young lady displayed throughout this whole rotten situation.

Obviously and as most people will agree when you have a family member go through something like this you tend to think about your own mortality. You wonder what you would do. How you would react. I did. If I am honest with myself and you the reader, theres a chance I’d try and do the right thing by being positive and setting an example in my head-on treatment and fight against this insidious disease. Then theres the very possible reality that after reaching a certain point, I’d simply throw in the towel, take out every line of credit I could get my hands on, and call it a party of the century with my closest friends. Booze, hookers, drugs, bank robbery, and dynamiting the IRS. I mean really whats to lose at that point?  Ok, I wouldn’t hurt innocent people, but you get the picture.

Thats me, and how I would have handled things. My cousin Jess is a much bigger and better person that I’ll ever be. She proved and showed the rest of us, that even when we’re saddled with insurmountable odds and a losing proposition you can still live with great happiness, and dignity no matter what the obvious outcome. That is a lesson I’ll forever take with me.

Did the cancer finally get my cousin Jess? Technically, yes, but Jessica did NOT lose the battle. No way. She won. She won in such outstanding fashion that her lessons and memory will live forever with those that met and knew her. I’ll call that winning every single day.

Moving along….

This blog in its current incarnation is officially one year old. I think technically the anniversary occurred last month but as you see it now its one year old. Its about where I expected it to be and for that I am pleasantly surprised. I have been mulling some small changes and updates with layout and graphics to keep things fresh. Fundamentally things will continue as they are and we’ll see where the next year takes us. I have some ideas and experiments swirling around in my head so stay tuned.

July already. Complete years and weekends go by so fast. Yet one single Monday at work can take the life right out of us five times over. Further proof life just isn’t fair sometimes. I don’t care though. July 31st I am going to see Black Sabbath and that doesn’t suck.

Let ‘er rip tater chips.

She said what?

paulaBy now we all know the brouhaha that has surrounded the famed celebrity cook, restauranteur, and shitty pots and pans shill Paula Deen. Thirty years ago she admittedly confessed to her at the time husband about referring to the man that held a gun to her head while working as a bank teller during an armed robbery as a “nigger”.

This shocking revelation was discovered during a sworn deposition regarding an ongoing law suite in which Deen and her brother are defendants.

I am not shocked how the mainstream media has handled this revelation. However it is interesting how the general public has taken the contextually and inaccurately drawn conclusions about Paula Deen’s past use of the obligatory N-bomb. The media and simpleton public have somehow come to the conclusion that Paula Deen referring to the black man that could have killed her, who forcefully and illegally exerted his will on her with a firearm during the commission of a crime as a “nigger” that she is somehow now labeled a racist and something worse then Hitler, the KKK or a run of the mill skin head neo-nazi.

I live in the south. I have grown up in the south. I am well aware of the roots and origin of the N-word. I know of its derogatory nature towards a group of people and its negative connotations. I am somewhat educated, have traveled all over this country and a good chunk of this planet. I have interacted with in both my professional and personal life people of color. Black, Yellow, White, Mulatto, you name it. Although I have never met any gypsy fortune tellers with three nipples. Pretty much the rest of the population however I can mark off the bingo card.

Everyone knows the word “nigger” is offensive and has no place in everyday speech.

In my life I have heard the word “nigger” used many times. I realized it wasn’t because I lived in the south, or associated with bigots. I can honestly say I have heard the word more times then not from the mouths of blacks themselves. Educated blacks, all the way down to the lowest common denominator homeless blacks on the street. Blacks in south, in the north, USA blacks, all the way to African blacks who never saw an electric light, who USA blacks would say, “goddamn Africa is home and where we’re from but “F” this is some backwoods shit.”

My question is if the word “nigger” is so abominably offensive to blacks and an outright cardinal sin for a caucasian to utter, then why does the black community use the word so freely amongst themselves?

Rap lyrics in the last twenty years? Eddie Murphy? Richard Pryor? Hollywood, Friday, Next Friday, Friday after Next movies? Overheard any three blacks talking to each other when they think no one else can hear? Or hell when three blacks talk to each other and don’t care who else can hear? Give me three black people, thirty minutes and I will guarantee you with the last cent to my name, any number of “nigger, niggas, negros” and as sure as i am typing this rather culturally controversial blog post a “shit mothafucka” as sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west each and every day.

I have heard and experienced these same “nigger” and derivative word usage by blacks essentially all over the world, in all cultures, religions, educational, financial and fiscal levels of black existence. Argue all you want that I may be stereotyping a small segment of the black community to represent the whole. I simply do not agree and it has not been my empirical experience.

Do not misunderstand me, please. I do not suggest or condone the common usage of the world “nigger” by Paula Deen or anyone else for that matter. However I do feel it rather hypocritical of any person or organization to pass judgement on anyone that may have used the word at some time in their life, when the majority of the segment of the people the word is targeted to offend is freely using the word amongst themselves in relative everyday language.

I should fully disclose and although I am not under oath but for the mere journalistic  integrity of this blog post I have used the word “nigger”. Actually I better just come clean with all the bad words I have used.

  1. Nigger
  2. Honkey
  3. Chink
  4. Towel Head
  5. Gook
  6. Kike
  7. Cunt
  8. Cocksucker
  9. MotherFucker
  10. Jackoff
  11. Retard
  12. Dickhead
  13. Wetback
  14. Beaner
  15. Window Licker
  16. Pie Face
  17. Bitch
  18. Faggot
  19. Fag
  20. Shitdick
  21. Shithead
  22. Scumbag
  23. Fuckface
  24. Dumbass
  25. Douchebag

These are just the worlds I have either used to describe a person or relate a completely inappropriate off color joke. This week.

Guess what? I have been called everyone of those words at some point in my life. By my mother, father, brothers, ex-girlfriends, current girlfriends, blacks, whites, preachers, nuns, senators, congressmen, strippers, and the occasional Jehovahs Witnesses on a Saturday morning at my front door.

I have used the word ‘nigger” yes. I am not proud of that fact but I have. I have also been down in the dirt and sand with a black man in a fighting hole next to me not knowing what the next hours were going to bring to either of us, but he was my friend and I would have killed someone or died myself defending him and I know he would have done the same for me.

You see I can tell a dirty joke. I can laugh at a dirty joke. If you’re a cocksucker I’ll call you a cocksucker. The color of your skin when I meet you means nothing to me. Its your character and your actions towards me that I judge you on. I expect nothing less in return.

Could Paula Deen have used a different word describing the man that took from her and could have killed her? Sure she could have. Was the man that did those things during that bank robbery what Paula Deen called him? In my opinion you bet your ass he was. I’d have called him the same thing if it happened to me tomorrow much less thirty years ago. The difference is I didn’t make $17 million dollars last year. Paula Deen did.

You see the word “nigger” really isn’t that offensive to anyone truth be told. Unless you got a lot of something to lose and you’re white. You see if Paula Deen made any mistake by using the word “nigger” thirty years ago describing the man that robbed her at gun point, its that she didn’t use the same word to describe the white woman who Paula and her brother had to fire from their restaurants for cause and is now bringing this law suite against them. Because frankly she deserves to be called one too as much as the man that robbed Paula 30 years ago. They are both doing the exact same thing, only one used a gun and the other is trying to use the legal system.

Lets be honest here. Had the woman who is suing Paula and her brother Bubba worked for Patrick and Gina Neely (whom are black, and were discovered and owe their food network fame to Paula Deen) was fired and then brought a law suite against the them on the basis the Neelys called some white woman a honky 30 years ago for not paying for some BBQ ribs do you think it would be national news?

Food for thought. <———pun

Let ‘er rip tater chips.

Could use your good thoughts and energy please.

Another Monday another start to an arduous work week ahead. I’ll apologize now for the somber and serious tone of this particular update.

Some of you may know but I suspect most do not so I’ll attempt a Cliff notes version.

JessNCI have a first cousin and her name is Jessica. Early thirty-ish years old. At twenty-five she was diagnosed with stage three colon cancer. As you can imagine Jessica has spent the last five plus years battling this disease with mostly positive results. There’s been chemotherapy, radiation treatment, colon, lung, and liver resection and more chemotherapy. After the initial chemotherapy and colon resection, the cancer metastasized and showed up in her lung, liver and lymph nodes. Jessica has been facing this disease head on and fighting the good fight every step of the way with grace, dignity and tenacity.

Unfortunately, this insidious disease has stopped responding to all the treatments Jessica has been going through and she has taken a turn for the worse. She has been admitted to the hospital with ascites. (collection of fluid in abdominal cavity) Jessica has been in tremendous pain and its now a matter of keeping her as comfortable as she can be with morphine.

If you pray, Jessica could use a prayer. If you don’t pray any positive energy you may want to spare would be greatly appreciated. Good vibes never can hurt so if you don’t mind send some her way. Jessica and the family would appreciate it.

Now for the PSA portion of the post. DONT IGNORE YOUR HEALTH. If something isn’t right, go see a doctor. If there is one thing I have sadly learned from all this, is the general media and perception of cancer means shit all. Cancer can strike at any age. It’s so arbitrary it doesn’t discriminate between sex, age, race, diet, state of health, or geographical location where you live. Men can just as easily get breast cancer, twenty five year old women get colon cancer. It is not just something you get if you decide to smoke, or drink or not use sun screen. If the rules of life decide and your bingo card gets punched, guess what? You get cancer, you get in the club, and you go to the head of the line.

The number one and still the best odds of beating this disease is in its earliest detection. Do not wait! Don’t fool yourself into thinking it can’t happen to you or that you are too young. Bullshit! This disease doesn’t care. If it has your number you WILL get it.

(note: Flash video below. You’ll want to check this out on your non-iPhone iPad devices)

This is my cousin about a year ago. I cant begin to tell you how proud I am of her and to have been privileged to watch and hear about her positive attitude and grace in her long fight against this disease.

As I have mentioned above, she isn’t doing too well right now, and we never say never or give up. So if you don’t mind send her some positive thoughts.

If you’re moved to and want to help? I am sure Jessica would be honored and proud if you sent a buck or two, to the Colon Cancer Alliance:

I can’t emphasize this enough. Do not take your health for granted. Something so little and benign as a headache that wont go away or constipation and cramps can be a sign of trouble. Get it checked out. If cancer runs in your family, get screened. Don’t wait. Most importantly, do not ever let any doctor tell you NO, when your gut and head say otherwise. You’re paying for a service you make him/her give you what you demand. You want a test? You want a scan? You tell the doctor “I am not asking for one, I am telling you to schedule one, DO IT.” It is that simple. You are in charge of your health, not some doctor beholden to some insurance company or drug manufacturer.

Thanks for reading, thanks for your support, and thanks for your prayers and good thoughts.

Let ‘er rip tater chips!