Welcome back lover, its nice to see you again.

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

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