Category Archives: General

Johnny was a school boy

Posted on by
Reply

When he heard his first Beatles song.
Love Me Do, I think it was and from there it didn’t take him long.

Happy Monday gang. Yes I know Mondays are the worst. Watching the weekends go by, I am surprised they go so fast, looking around me, well I made the big time at last. Opps. Still channeling Paul Rogers and Bad Company. Did you know Elton John actually wrote Shooting Star? Bet you didn’t, but you do now.

Did you know Pete Townshend is credited with creating the Marshall Stack? Don’t know what a Marshall Stack is exactly? Been to a real rock and roll concert in your life? See the Marshall amps from floor to ceiling? Yea those. Pete Townshend of The Who requested more amplification from Marshall, who designed special 8X12″ cabinets with 100 watt tube amps. 1959 Marshall Super Lead was born. Townshend used 4 of these setups on stage. Love and loud music can cure your problems, you’re so lucking I am around.

Well, I guess I have get this next part over with sooner or later. I have tried to stall by dazzling you with catchy lyrics and rock and roll trivia long enough.

My New York football Jets took a good old fashioned ass whooping from the Miami Dolphins. They deserved every single bit of it too. No wonder Eva Longoria dumped Mark Sanchez. Sanchez is a retard (yes I said the word “retard” don’t shoot me pro-retard people) and as someone who didn’t and still doesn’t buy into the Tim Tebow hype machine, I am beginning to wish Ryan would start playing him and develop his arm. It would be nice to salvage next season with a capable quarter back and leader on the team, as it is now I think were circling the drain on this season. Division playoffs this year is a stretch.

I will say however the nicest part about watching my Jets lose these last two weeks has been the ass of my waitress at the local joint where my friends and I have been taking in the game. Its your typical NFL Sunday 5000 flat screen every game on tv kind of place. The waitstaff are all beautiful girls with football jerseys and very small short shorts. Our waitress these last two weeks has been the same girl. She has an incredible ass. As I sit here and reflect on its beauty and those awesome short shorts I have realized I may be growing up. Why? Because I just now realized for the last two Sundays in a row, I have taken pictures of the great wings this place makes but not one single “creep shot” of this girls great ass. The honeymoon on my lecherous life is over. I guess I am a big boy now. Alright I admit, she has a nice ass, but the rest of her is great too. She even brought me some birthday ice cream, thank you great ass waitress girl! I imagined eating it off her butt. Guess Im still a pig. Thanks to a great group of friends that put up with my twisted humor and logic too, I am pretty blessed to have a great group of people in my life.

So hurricane Sandy is going to douche out the northeast. I have a few friends and family up that way. I hope they wont be affected to badly. The rest of you humps I sure hope you get power and transportation restored quickly. Just a little FYI from a Florida hurricane veteran. It can take upwards of a month to restore power when a good hurricane comes ashore. This affects everything from gasoline at pumps and food in stores, so be patient. Oh yea, and I hope you bastards got your Obama early vote in too, because I would just be heart broken if you couldn’t vote in the general election on November 6th from lack of power and transportation. See even God and Mother Nature know Obama sucks.

I’ll get this posted up so I can go make some pie. I like pie. I like chocolate and peanut butter pie.

More tomorrow. Hang in folks and be safe if you live in the northeast.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

So long weekend we hardly knew you.

Posted on by
Reply

As I sit here with mixed emotions pondering the weekend, I guess I have to say it was a good one. Well they are always good, just go by too fast which we have discussed previously.

Sunday I awoke to a small “Cool Front” here in sunny Florida. Cool is 77 degrees and humidity below 85 percent. Below 74 degrees and its freezing and I start swearing. It was like 69 degrees at 6:30 am Sunday. I headed for the central heat. Relax. I didn’t turn it on.

I did fire up the oven and make some cinnamon rolls though. I felt rather re-newed and in a fall-ish mood so figured what the hell. Facebooked my intentions for baking, and had some friends over to help me eat the goodness.

I put the recipe over in the recipe section.

Guys if you can change your own oil, fix a flat tire, and replace a burnt out light bulb, you can bake these. Now I know, you’re saying, “why the hell make those when I can buy them in the grocery store and be done in 30 minutes or less”? I’ll tell you why. It’s because these are better. They will always be better, and now listen to me closely. If you make these for say your wife or girlfriend you will score major points. Remember the pancakes and waffles I showed you a few weeks back? Same thing here. A woman will love you long time if you take a turn and cook for her once in a while. Sure you can impress her with some Pillsbury tube rolls from the dairy section. She’ll be so proud of you for making the effort. If you makes these from scratch and put in the little extra effort the rewards will be increased by a factor of say eight or nine. You are moving into well lets just say your moving into Corvettes and Harley Davidson territory and the other private things you only get on your birthdays. Ok maybe not, but it cleans up your “punk card” and puts credit in the bank for later screw up.

Yesterday afternoon I caught some football at a local joint with friends. I ate some wings and watched the Jets loose to the Patriots. I have been a Jets fan for many years but I am about the throw in the towel on Sanchez. I can put up with Rex Ryan’s fat ass.  The Tebow mania doesn’t bother me. That bumbling idiot Sanchez is getting on my nerves. Its understandable if Sanchez doesn’t have the necessary protection on the offensive line, but for Christ’s sake, if he needs to unload the ball 10 yards or less in a hurry he’s like a retarded moron. How can a NFL quarterback fire a ball 30 yards like a bullet but cant get it 10 feet when he’s under rush pressure? Then when the damn fool hangs on to the ball when he is in trouble, he can’t hang on to the thing and hit the ground without it popping into the opponents hands. It was hard to see them loose to New England last night. That should have been a win. Oh well. What are you going to do? Well I know what I would do. I would have Tebow’s ass throwing the ball 1500 times a day until he developed that arm into NFL material then tell him to put his magic Jesus underwear on and start him.

Speaking of Jesus and whatnot, yesterday I learned something. There are churches that have “love offerings” during the service. I also learned that certain people who may or may not attend these churches that have “love offerings” also have rather twisted and foul thoughts regarding certain acts of love. Now I am not purposely trying to be cryptic here because frankly I only got a portion of the conversation. The point is sometimes you hear the strangest things from some of the people whom you’d never expect to hear such things from. I almost blushed, in fact I may have. I cant say for certain if what this person was talking about and the love offerings at this particular church are connected, but I most certainly asked more about the church. I may need to get some of this churching in that my friend seems to be involved in. Im just saying. I’ll report back on this topic as I learn more.

Try and have a good Monday.

Let’er rip tater chip!

Welcome back lover, its nice to see you again.

Posted on by
3

Friday that is, and in all your gloriousness you come back to me with your thermostat set to beautiful. I missed you. Please do not be in such a rush to leave me as I know you will. Let me enjoy and cherish you.

So as you may have noticed from my rather romantic or vomitus depending on your nature, opening statements the weather here in Florida has turned rather nice the last couple days. Furthermore its Friday and we all know what that means. Weekend freedom!

Last nights vice presidential debate went about as much as I suspected it would go. Vice President Biden better known as your drunken uncle barked, howled, flung his arms in the air and laughed between interrupting almost every word out of Paul Ryan’s mouth. Did he state anything of substance? Not particularly in my opinion. Obama came off as a pussy in the first debate and here comes Biden like a raving idiot. Very telegraphed response from the Obama administration and their mindless followers claiming the “old man” schooled the “young kid”. I thought Ryan handled himself professionally and much more maturely. The Romney team needs to clean up, and clarify some key subjects as abortion rights and tax reform instead of letting the Obama team intimate that they have no specific plan and that somehow no plan is much worse then a proven failing plan that we currently have with Obama. We’ll see what Romney does next week.

Lately I have been calling Lucas “Little Booty” more then I have been calling him by his name. There are a few issues at play here that I have been analyzing over in my head.

This dog’s southbound end is as cute as his northbound. When he is excited his whole butt shakes back and forth with the little nub of his tail doing the same thing. I cant help but laugh or smile. If the old saying “the sun shines even on a dogs ass at least once a day” is true this dog was born with his ass eternally planted in sun-shinny happiness. Naturally I have started calling him “Little Booty”.  Sorry, not sorry. Don’t Judge me.

If I call out to him “Little Booty” he will come running. He will also come to his name “Lucas”. Professionals will tell you that dogs don’t necessarily distinguish between the actual words or names more then the sounds and inflections of the words. No, go, and flow may all be the same to what a dog hears, but they become aware of the inflection of the words.

I mention all this because well, because it makes me feel better about calling my awesome little dog, “Little Booty” without feeling the least bit shamed or fixated on my dogs ass. He has a cute boot. What can I tell you?

Now for myself, standing in the street yelling, “LITTLE BOOTY” come, stay or heel? That is entirely a different matter. As much as I love the little dog, Im not willing to relinquish that masculinity or self respect yet. Well at least not when someone may be watching. LOL. So in those cases it’s back to “Lucas”. I find myself pausing from time to time when I am about to call Lucas, Little Booty that I need to also call him Lucas and mentally checking the “dog actual name and dog nickname” score card in my head to keep things even.

For the last three weekends, I have told myself that I will pressure clean the driveway. Now  in my defense one of those weekends it rained the entire time. The others however and my bad habit of procrastination has gotten the better of me. I should pressure clean the driveway right now. Coffee and this blog dictate much more important matters so the driveway goes further down the list of “get this shit done” things I really need to do. Its a brutal game I play with myself. I make a mental list of things, chores mostly, that I should do and I know if I do them all then I was very productive and I will even feel good about myself. Inevitably though I will not get to or really try to do all but the most necessary chores like laundry, house cleaning, grass cutting. I know this is going to happen every time. I make a list of things to do, know damn well I wont do the suckiest of chores, then feel shitty I let it slide again. Lather, rinse, repeat! It’s usually not until one of two things happen that I force myself to do the most crappy of chores. The complete and utter shame of having blown the item off for so long I cant stand to look at the situation any more, or I think I may impress a cute girl. Hey no shame. Even Hitler had a nice piece of ass. Didn’t do anything with it cause he had no penis but none the less, women make this world function.

Well thats it for now. I am about three recipes in the hole for the blog I need to work on, my coffee is getting low and then there is the damn driveway. Anyone want to take bets on what actually gets done? Hint safe money says watch the recipe section and find out.

Little Booty Lucas has his priorities set.

 

You don’t have to play

Posted on by
2

You can follow or lead the way. 
 I want you to join together with the band,
We don’t know where we’re going,
But the season’s right for knowing,
I want you to join together with the band.

It’s humpday Wednesday again. I find myself wondering when will this awfully slow week end? Time just seems to be dragging along this week. This nonsense doesn’t happen between Friday afternoon and Monday morning.

Tomorrow is the vice presidential debate. I am eagerly waiting to see how Paul Ryan handles himself. My personal opinion is that a fifth grader should be able to intellectually checkmate Mr. Biden, but I am not assuming anything in this election. Paul Ryan is a smart man and he should decisively put the old fool away. Fingers are crossed.

Oh yeah, this just in. Don’t eat cockroaches for something so ridiculous as a free pet snake. Eating cockroaches generally isn’t harmful but being a dumb ass is proving to be lethal. A pet snake? Really? Ah NO.  A new Harley? Sure. A date with Jenny McCarthy and a bottle of Rohypnol? You betcha! Not a free pet snake.

Does anyone out there watch the seminal cable show on FX, Sons of Anarchy? In the last two weeks its beat everything on TV ratings wise. Kurt Sutter is the creator and writer. Its about a fictional motorcycle club. If you have not watched this program I suggest you get your Netflix fired up to catch the first three seasons, and by the time you are done with that you can catch the forth season playing now. Or is this currently the fifth season on TV now?  Hell I don’t know, but the show is 110% awesome. You don’t have to be a biker, like motorcycles, or Honey Boo Boo to like this show. The writing is perfection. I wont give any spoilers here. Watch it and come back with a two page written report for next weeks homework. Ok kidding about that last part. I was just testing out my school teacher voice.

Bananas are an awesome food. Potassium is good for your brain and the rest of your body. I like to eat bananas. Not when I am on the boat fishing. That shit is bad luck. All other times though bananas are fabulous. I especially like when I forget to eat bananas and they turn all brown and black. I turn that into banana bread. I have some in the oven right now.

Kelly Ripa made some flippant stereotype comment on her talk show yesterday about gangster dogs are probably some sort of mean Pit Bull type dogs. The internet is in an uproar about it and frankly I don’t blame it. Pit Bulls get a tremendously bad rap and its mostly by a very minority few people who know absolutely nothing about dogs at all. I’ve had in some way or other pit bulls all my life. My mother who will jump out of a moving car on the New Jersey Parkway if a bee flies into the window, has had Pit Bulls for years. Most of my close friends have one or more, and I happen to work with anywhere from a bakers dozen of them every week. In the care of knowledgeable, and loving people these dogs are probably one of the best breeds on the planet. The bad reputation these dogs have gotten over the years is in my opinion been a direct result of the people whom have owned the dogs.

Dogs are a lot like guns. There are toys that shoot caps and go bang that children can play with, and there are .50 Cal riffles that will bring down jumbo jets. Both guns in the proper hands and respected are safe and can be happily owned. If you give one of these guns to an idiot, even the toy cap gun can hurt somebody. Pit Bulls are much the same way, except the Pit Bull by its natural build is more towards the .50 Cal riffle then the toy cap gun in my above analogy. In abusive hands a Pit Bull can hurt someone. However in a loving home with responsible owners these dogs are some of the most loving and loyal dogs out of all the breeds.

That’s about it. Oh, I forgot to mention, I put chocolate chips in the banana bread.

That’s what I got for a Wednesday. Hang in there folks Friday is in sight.

B-cool
B-real
B-rock

Weekend, oh how I have missed you.

Posted on by
4

Its another beginning to another great weekend. It’s no greater then any other weekend other then the fact its the weekend and by definition all weekends are simply great. The only bad part is I’ll sit down, take a deep breath and relax for five minutes today, and then I’ll look at the clock and it will be 9:00pm Sunday night. Why does this happen? It seems whenever we slow down, and take it easy with the notion of not having to do anything or do things we enjoy doing, (not working) then time all of a sudden shifts into warp speed.

Of all the drugs and dope heads in the history of time making substances to alter our reality and lower our inhibitions, why hasn’t some genius or better yet why hasn’t some pharmaceutical company chemist made a simple drug that gives the user the impression of time slowing way down? I have never done LSD. Does this happen with that drug? Well that and the hallucinations of dogs talking to you telling you to kill prostitutes and John Lennon but I digress.

How great would it be to just pop a pill that slowed time way down? Not slow motion time where everyone is talking SSSSSSLLLLLLOOOOOOWWWW, but just like it gives the user the impression that hours have passed by but when they look at the watch its only been five minutes. I know its easy to make this drug. The properties are in the air around emergency rooms, the DMV and driver licenses offices, waiting for a pot of water to boil when you watch it, dating ultra hot mormon women who are miraculously still virgins at 25+ years of age. (don’t ask me how I know) Yes so I know the elements for this miracle drug exist naturally in nature. We just need to find a way to bottle and pill it up and someone is going to be rich and the rest of us are going to be eternally happy. The drug companies have got be close to a breakthrough. After all the pills already exist to give people four hour boners. Now just give me month long weekends.

I would only make sure that the drug companies fix the boner viagra and the weekend time viagra to cancel each other out if both are taken at the same time. Frankly if I get month long weekends and compound that with four and six hour medically induced boners, Bob Barker from the Price is Right is going to have to come out of retirement to make commercials to spay and neuter people like me. That wont end well. The next thing you know, I got those whale wars bastards coming after me in the Steve Irwin boat. Since I’m on the weekend time viagra, I’ll be running away for hours and hours and never seeming to get away with a sign on my boner that says “Government research only”.

I think this is a bucket list moment. I just made a blog post about boners, Bob Barker, and Whale Wars tied together in a few simple paragraphs about how I envision great weekends. Classy yet informative. I am a natural at this.

So that is whats on my mind this morning. Yes I know. No need to state the obvious. Sometimes I am just not right. Like I’d ever put a sign on my boner about government research. Pfttt. 😉

I’ll close this hoping everyone has a good weekend. To the readers whom have shown interest in the custom end grain cutting boards, I haven’t forgotten. Watch the blog the next couple of days for the dedicated information and ordering page I am setting up.

Love and peace to each other and if it cant be remember one thing. No one can keep a secret of getting rid of a body forever. You do that job alone.

When tragedy befalls you, don’t let it drag you down

Posted on by
4

Love can cure your problems,
You’re so lucky I am around. 

I havent been fortunate enough to have any children of my own yet so the closest comparison I can relate to are my dogs. They have been as much my children to me as a kid is to a parent I venture to guess. Its with that understanding I relate this story.

Recently I got news of an old friend of mine whom tragedy of the worst kind has befallen. The hows and whys are not important but I’ll tell you when I say the worst kind, yea worst kind. A parent having to burry a child. Even though in this case it was a step child, but knowing this person it hardly would have mattered to her. This person was always an open hearted type woman that seemed to like or at least give everyone a fair chance so biological or step child probably had no real distinction to her anyway.

When I heard the news, of course you go through the emotions of loss and heartache for that person. I couldn’t help but think about my Golden Retriever, Lucille whom I lost this summer to cancer/tumor at only four and a half years old.

I can’t remember my parents or brothers birthdays without looking it up somewhere. I cant remember anniversaries, valentines day (any wonder I dont have kids?). I know my own birthday and the Marine Corps birthday. I also know June 11, 2012.

On June 11th of this year, after dropping my sick dog off to a veterinarian for emergency surgery I got “That” call.

Mr. Kingston we got her on the table and opened her up and it was bad. I worked as fast as I could to fix her up, the mass on her spleen was large. I got it all out, but due to the blood loss and anemia her heart was going a million miles an hour. She arrested just as I was finishing up. We got some meds into her and I got her heart re-started once. Five minutes later she arrested again and nothing I could do would get her going again. I’m so sorry.

That was it. That was all I had left of Lucille. I think I held it together long enough to thank the doctor for trying and hung up the phone. I ah, yea, I collapsed after that and the rest of the day is gone from my memory.

Parenthetically sure Lucille was my “child”. What the hell was I going to do now? I know those deep horrible feelings of loss. I felt horrible for my friend Gabrielle. This wasn’t a pet for her, this was a child. If I felt that way over a dog, a pet, how can you quantify that when its another person? Its not so hard for me. My pets have always been my kids. Maybe if I have a kid one day I’ll see the difference, but I somehow doubt it. So in a way, I know where my friend Gabrielle and her family is right, now. It’s shit.

But I also know something else. Something else I am certain Gabrielle will later get to feel too.

You see after an amount of time, that only you know the amount of, “love” comes back through your door. Love from your family, friends, your pets you lost, and the people you may have lost. That love and time, fixes everything and shines the light of perspective back into your life. All you have to do is let it in.

I volunteer a few hours a week at an animal shelter for an obligation for me and for Lucille. I rescued a dog from that shelter that I connected with. This is how the love I had for Lucille has manifested itself back into my life. The work is sometimes gross and a pain, but I come home and see Lucas jump on a particular couch and look out the window, just like a certain Golden Retriever did her entire life and I know what I am doing and the path I am on is the right one. That is my love.

I have cursed god, cursed doctors, cursed luck, cursed myself, cursed everything over the loss of Lucille. I needed to curse all those things. I needed the time to curse all those things. Now, I am done.

I got plenty of love back in my life and thats good enough. When i see Lucille and Jasper again with Lucas and whatever other four legged children I may have in my life, I’ll be a bigger baller that that bastard Cesar Millan, and I wont be whispering shit with my pack. We’ll be running and swimming with War Pigs turned up to fucking 11.

Gabrielle, If you read this, I miss you and I love you. Be strong and you got this!

Good morning sunshines or shut up get coffee!

Posted on by
8

Here were are again. Another Monday another start to another wonderful week of work, and otherwise monotonous skullduggery to get us through to the next weekend. Never fear because I am here to help.

Finally this weekend I have found that Justin Bieber and myself have something in common. YES, can you believe it? I was utterly shocked as well. It seems we both feel the same exact way about his music and concert performances. Take a look. This is a full dose of awesome sauce from me to you. Well that is if awesome sauce is say….. a bag of Doritos and a quart of spoiled milk?

Who is singing while ol’ Bieb’s his hurking out his dinner on stage?

Does anyone have even the slightest idea of how pathetic this is? This little hump has something like a trillion followers on Twitter, Facebook, mommywasaslut.com

How is this Rock and Roll? How is this cool? Do you know how many hotel rooms Led Zeppelin trashed to be cool. How many times Keith Moon had to be carried off stage passed out from behind his drum kit in a puddle of his own piss and vomit. Hell even Axl Rose doesnt show up to his shows until he has combed all his pubic hairs, had his special Chai tea and painted his toenails.

Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison, Moon, Rhodes, Vaughn, Cobain, Staley is it any wonder why they all checked out long before their time? Maybe they were all visionaries that saw music heading into the abyss we now find ourselves mired in. If thats the case, who can blame them?

In any event, to watch Mr. Bieber puke and vomit while hunched over ass out to his adoring fans is a win for me on any Monday in my book. Enjoy.

Coffee is ready. Hang on a second and let me sooth my nerves.

Ahhhhh. That’s much better. Let’s continue shall we?

Football this weekend? Ugh! The Jets were supposed to play the 49’ers. Did anyone even notice if they showed up for the game? Who were the people wearing the green and white uniforms? Well a loss is a loss I guess. If you’re going to take a beating no sense in spending energy or risking additional injury defending against the inevitable.

October is an exciting month this year. Let me rephrase that last sentence. This particular October should be an exciting month. Presidential and vice presidential debates take place. If Mitt Romney has half a brain in his Mormon head or by chance someone running his election campaign has half a ball sack, they will have instructed and throughly prepared him to eviscerate President Obama to his soulless core every single question every single debate. Governor Romney needs to go for the throat and kill this bastard.

If it were me, nothing would be off limits. No matter the time limit or the question content. I would somehow for every time I open my mouth bring about the questions of Obama’s past. Topics would include but not limited to:

  • Obama’s communist father Frank Marshall Davis.
  • Obama’s association with Acorn and the typical Chicago corruption.
  • Obama’s association with Bill Ayers, Rev. Wright
  • Obama’s bogus SSN#
  • Obama’s college transcripts
  • Obama’s nepotism  in Chicago for getting Michelle $300,000/year hospital job (turning away indigent patients to other hospitals…IRONY),
  • Obama buying his home with assistance with felon Tony Rezko.
  • All the way down to his nose job and plastic surgery. Who is hiding why change appearances?

I would slit his throat in the debates!

The bullshit this President has pulled over the mindless sheep in this country boarders on criminal. We’ll see if Romney plays it safe or goes for the kill. If he has any sense he’ll realize what the play it safe and passive route got John McCain in 2008.

Do your homework folks. Look past the silly 15 and 30 second sound bites on TV and ask questions. The answers are out there. Just don’t be too shocked about the answers you find to your questions when you start to think on your own.

Enough political commentary for today. These thoughts are mine and mine only. I respect everyones position and theres room here for all.

Oh yeah, my birthday and Halloween is in October too!

Nothing special this weekend from the corporate kitchens with the exception of Belgian Waffles and a decent Pizza Slut clone of cheese sticks/bread. Keep your eyes on the recipe section for those entries.

However, today in appreciation and honor of Octoberfest. I will be making beef rouladen with a dill spaetzle. Some serious German eats yo! Or is that Yohan? Or Gunther or Wolfgang? Whatever, some good German food today. Will post the results later.

The blog has been alive about two months now. I have been thinking about some commercial interests and since we have been discussing a lot of food lately, it may be about time to introduce you to another passion of mine, woodworking. Some of you may already know this and  to some this may be new. I like wood. I have wood. 😉

Generally I have built mostly furniture, and some custom cabinetry. What I have enjoyed making in the past which have made great gifts and an obvious tie in to my love of making and shoving food down my throat is beautiful end grain cutting boards. Take a look.

I am thinking about making more cutting boards and selling them through this web site / blog. As you can see there are no limitations to color, size, or shape. The beauty to a properly made end grain cutting board is not only its appearance in your home, but if you are the least bit anal about your knives and cutlery you use in your kitchen then cutting food on an end grain cutting board is the best for your knives and keeps your blades sharper longer.

If you’re like me and pay upwards of $150+ for a professional Shun chef’s knife you care about trivial things like this. Everyone is like me right? LOL. Ok so you’re not so anal retentive or a maniac perfectionist when it comes to these matters. Well these cutting boards look damn good in any kitchen, and with minimal care last as long as you will live.

You want one of these cutting boards. You must have one of these cutting boards. You want one of these cutting boards for yourself, and you want to buy another to give to someone you care about for Christmas or the upcoming holidays. You must have one! When you sleep at night you dream about them! It’s all you can think about! You want to be the first one on your block to have your very own Whats Up Brock end grain cutting board.

Well my friends don’t you worry. I always got your back. In the next couple of days, I’ll provide the information to you on this very site/blog for you to order your very own What’s Up Brock end grain cutting board.

Be ready to jump when I open up the ordering flood gates. It’s going to be first come first serve. You will want to get in early for delivery in time for Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons.

I know what your already thinking. “What are you going to do with the money fat ass?” I’ll tell you. I am going to get drunk and buy hookers. What the hell do you think? Ok I am kidding. Honest. I am however going to donate some of the proceeds to some charitable organizations that have moved me lately and need our help. So in a way by ordering a cutting board from me, you not only win by owning a one of kind, beautiful piece of kitchen/household functional “art” you will also be a part of helping some neglected dogs/cats and some truly deserving injured and broken Veterans and their families.

So stay tuned. You’ll want to be a part of this.

Friday how I love thee!

Posted on by
2

It’s another glorious Friday. End of the work week and the Jets play the Dolphins this weekend. The new iPhone 5 is on the shelves, a coffee is next to my hand and there’s a loyal happy dog at my feet. Not bad. Well other then a winning powerball ticket, Kyra Sedgwick for a wife and my own Island nation life is pretty good. (or darn tootin’ for all you Minnesota folk)

Can I ask a question? Thanks. I knew I could.

For any and all new mothers, parents, people with kids, people who know people with kids, people whom have seen little kids, lately I have noticed small babies with what looks like little mitts or glove like things on their hands. What the hell is this all about? What is the purpose of these mittens? These aren’t eskimo kids laying in the snow either. I am talking about normal babies, at home, day care, mall, gas stations, crack dens, brothels, Vegas casino count rooms, designated smoking areas at government taxing agencies. I have noticed small babies and these mittens all over the place.

I admit being single with no children, (well any that I am aware of in this country or access to any support agency that has any legal jurisdiction over my life) that I don’t keep up on the newborn hand care fashion. I looked back at some of my baby pictures to see if I had to wear mittens or gloves, nope none there. So I ask, is this some kind of new eco-moon-bat type movement for new babies to keep them from scratching their asses or picking their noses until some new age or stage of life? What the hell? Someone help me out here and rock the comment section with some knowledge for the out of the know middle aged guy.

This got me to thinking about all the new trends in child rearing as compared to my generation. Look I realize and completely understand that since the birth of time, every generation of people always looks forward or backward with disdain for the next generation as to what one group had to do to get by with in regards to how they were raised. Its natural and normal as we evolve and advance as a race.

However I contend that a lot of the new things we do with children today that we didn’t do when we were kids or our parents were kids is not to the betterment of children or society in general. I think it actually to the detriment of the children and society. I think there is a number of factors in place that have brought about these changes. Economics, society, education are to name a few.

Let me give some examples.

I haven’t seen a child learn to or continue to ride a bicycle without a full DOT class crash helmet on since I am guessing 1990. What the hell is this all about? Did children in 1990 in mass numbers all of a sudden start learning to ride bicycles and through no fault of their own start flinging themselves head first into the pavement, parked cars, fence posts, or other such blunt objects and become brain dead vegetables? What happened? I learned to ride a bike without a helmet. So did my brothers, friends, family, and pretty much everyone I knew. To my knowledge we all survived without major trauma. Now you teach a kid to ride a bicycle without a dork pot on his/her head and family services or some such will show up to beat you with a lead pipe and brand you unfit. What the hell? Do kids make ramps out of trash cans and stolen plywood from construction sites to jump over other kids laying in the street with their bicycles any more?

Sports, Little League, Pop Warner, Soccer, Bowling or any organized competitive function. All the children no matter what are winners. Say what? Yes, I have seen it with my own eyes. There are no more losers. All the children are winners. Christ, there are season ending banquets going on all over the country with trophies being awarded to teams and individuals all they way down to last place. Seriously? I shit you not! Where’s the competition? Where is the spirit of work hard, work your ass off, work as a team and win! Win first place. Win every time. Not only win, but with grace and sportsmanship, win and win big. Make the losing team choke on a blow out. Send them back home thinking their mothers and fathers all failed them and had retards for babies and to never show back up on the cities baseball field, football field, bowling alley, hand ball court, soccer field without permission or risk a beating over by the water pipes.

My father used to come to my Little League games at Sportsman’s park and from the stands ridicule me for striking out. Yelling from the bleachers, “What happened Brock, you should have swung on the 2-1 pitch and drilled that pitching sissy down his throat!” You know what? At first as a kid I was mad and upset that I didn’t do good and make my father proud, then I took more batting practice, and then drilled some hits down pitchers throats and won some games. Golf Gallery, PSL’s finest in 1978. Every game we won, free pizza and soda in the Fort suckers!

Soccer, same thing. Rinse lather repeat. We won and won big. Second place was for suckers and chumps.

Are parents even allowed to speak the word “loser” within a thousand feet of a public athletic facility?

When I was in school and during recess no matter what the activity, softball, baseball, dodge ball, duck duck goose, there was going to be two team captains, and kids were going to be picked for teams. Rule of the land was, if you got picked last it was because you were fat, sucked, dumb, slow, retarded. You lived with it. You didn’t cry. You sucked it  up and you played anyway. Maybe you did good, maybe you did bad, but you where there. You were there a few years later in high school too with your own car, some sweet high school ass, or not, but you were there and learned to adapt and integrate.

Bullying? Bullying has become all of a sudden this nationwide epidemic? Bullshit. Bullying has been going on for generations. The only difference now is all these emo kids that are being raised lazy and think that being winners is a given and automatic are finding out in the real world things don’t work that way and aren’t capable of coping. One post on one of these kids Facebook page calling him a pussy and he’s running to the closet to hang himself with his favorite pink Britney Spears belt his sissified parents convinced him it was ok to wear for show and tell.

In my day, which honestly wasn’t too far back, someone called you out, pushed you, shoved you, took your lunch money, you solved that problem in one of a few ways in which none included telling your parents or a teacher. You solved that shit on your own. You either stood up for yourself and whipped the bully’s ass, or if you couldn’t, then you learned to use your head to diffuse he situation with humor. If none of that worked you fell back on your friendships and personal networking skills to scheme an elaborate plan to have a bunch of friends kick the bully’s ass or set him up for a suspectd crime or auto accident. In any case you overcame and adapted to adverse life situations then you moved forward.

I guess this turned into a rant. I’m sorry. I think about these things from time to time.

To my dog loving readers. Friday fun tip #1. When giving your dog a bath, instead of paying for all those specialty dog shampoos that honestly are nothing special, wash the dog with some of that leftover Axe Body-wash liquid soap crap.

You know you have two or three bottles of that junk in the shower. You know who you are. You read the sexy Madison Ave advertisement in FHM, Mens Health, Esquire magazine with the good looking six pack abs model douche with the hot semi-naked woman licking his neck. Then you saw the crap in the supermarket next to the deodorant and toothpaste. You bought it, thinking it would make you smell like a million bucks and magically get you laid. You used it twice and now there is a soap scum ring growing around it in the shower caddy by the shaving cream and old Bic razor you use to clean up your nut hairs.

Use it for the dog. It lathers up great its not irritable and actually the perfume works good on the pooch. Now I have a clean dog who smells great. The bitches are showing up and loving all over him. Go figure.

Thats it. Have a good and safe weekend. Be kind to each other. Smile and remember to treat your waitress good. She really may be only doing that job while putting herself through college getting her medical or law degree. It could happen. 😉

Hello cowgirl in the sand.

Posted on by
Reply

Is this place at your command Can I stay here for a while
Can I see your sweet sweet smile

Another week comes to an end as we get ready to celebrate the long Labor Day weekend.

I have been thinking about what I need to get done. Grocery shopping, cut the grass, laundry, vacuum and Lucas wants that land crab to back his ass up from his sliding glass door.

Its funny. Although Lucas has only been around the house for a week now, I can see that he has settled in and thinks he’s home. The erratic running around sniffing and checking out everything in sight has subsided. It’s funny how dogs if shown the least bit of compassion and interest, will instantly return those same things back only unconditionally and without regard to what you did last week, month, year. It’s too bad people cant seem to learn to live the same way.

As evidenced in the picture above, from the rains earlier this week, we have been inundated with blue land crabs looking for drier ground. From time to time one or two crabs will get on the back porch and click around near the window and piss Lucas off. Lucas gives me a look like “come on man let me get to that bastard and gnash it to death”. I don’t have the heart to turn him loose and and see him get his nose pinched. However I just looked the crabs up, and they are in fact edible. Hmmm.

This one is short and sweet. I need to get my yard in shape. All the rain we had this week, and the grass is growing like hair on the upper lip of some very Mediterranean women of Sardinian decent. (Which is perfectly ok Mediterranean women of Sardinian decent, no offense)

Stay tuned, Labor Day weekend means BBQ and I am thinking the Weber Smoker is coming out of retirement. Brisket.

Have fun.
Be Safe.
TGIF
Never take a “No it won’t fit” for an answer.