Devils Night 2014

brock18…or how most refer to as my birthday. Yep the big four three today. To be honest with you I really don’t feel forty-three. Hell I don’t feel forty or thirty-five. I guess in the grand scheme of things its good I don’t feel my age. I have never particularly acted it, so I guess it only goes to show that I don’t feel it either.

Technically, I am middle aged. I can only hope to live to eighty-six years old in relative good health. ¬†So I am middle aged, and eternally single it seems. I just don’t get out much and meet new people. As far as a mid-life crisis I either haven’t had one, or have been in one the last twenty something years. I haven’t particularly grown stale in long term relationships (although I have been lucky enough to love a handful of some great women and a couple of cunts) and needed to go out and sow my wild oats or buy Corvettes. I have always gone after the women I wanted when I wanted, and as far as toys, I bought them all. Cars, trucks, motorcycles, tools, guns, TV you name it. If I wanted it I bought it.

Sometimes I wonder what if I had done this or accepted and settled down with that? In the end I figure I am right where I want to be. Happy. Could that include someone else in the future? I have no idea and thats what I like the most. Every new day is an adventure. I do know what I won’t give up and thats “me”. I am going to be me and me is content.

When I look back on my first half of life, certainly there are things I would like to have done differently. However in the end everything I have done to get me to this point the good, bad and ugly, has made me what I am today. In the big picture I can honestly say, I am one blessed motherfucker and try very hard to live with no regrets.

My family is golden. We’re no better or worse then any other and frankly most may even consider us functioning at the middle range of disfunction. Thats all ok. In the end I can honestly say through everything we all love each other and have each others back. Its my opinion that you’re basically shit without family. I have mine and thats like winning the lotto.

Friends. You want to judge someone? Easy. Just look at their friends. I have a metric shit ton of them. Some new some old. I can honestly say, if I lined up all my friends whom I think would stand up for me and admit saying “Yes I know him and he’s my friend” I would give the Dali Lama, Mother Teresa, Hunter S. Thompson, and Bob Hope a run for their money in the friend department. I couldn’t be more blessed in this regard.

My dogs seem to love me. Dogs can pretty much sniff out a scumbag at birth. Mine seem to appreciate and love me. I am winning in this subject for sure.

My nieces are a bit young yet, but I figure I’ll buy them their first beer, kick the shit out of the first scumbag boys that try and take advantage of them and teach them how to truly craft a string of profanity that would make any sailor or longshoremen blush. I’m sure they’ll appreciate these things later in life.

I am content, happy and forty-three today. What will the next forty-three years bring me? No clue, but I am looking forward to every one of those years with wide eyed wonder and abandon. I have learned some valuable lessons to get me to where I am today, and if by some chance I get more opportunities to strike with this hard learned knowledge the world is my oyster. If not? Well I’ll sit back, jerk off to some internet porn, pet the dogs, take a nap and call up some friends for dinner or a drink. I mean what else do I have to worry about? Signing up for Obamacare?

In the mighty words of Walter Sobchak, “Fuck it Dude. Lets go bowling.”

Thanks for all the birthday wishes on Facebook, Text messages, Tweets, etc. You know who you are, and I hope you know how much each of you means to me. It’s only 10PM and I still have a chocolate strawberry cake and a hand job coming to me . ūüėõ

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.

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.

Cops. Come and try to snatch my crops!

EVTime Who you tryin’ to get crazy with ese? Don’t you know I’m loco?

Well it looks like Mr. Peabody has turned the way-back machine dials to 1993 this morning.

War was over
I was home from the Marines
Pearl Jam gave us Vs
Nirvana gave us In Utero and then suicide the following April
Cypress Hill broke us off some with Black Sunday

I catch myself in conversation and sometimes others catch me when referring to someone as old being like forty-five or fifty years of age. Then I, or someone else will go, “Old? Um, you realize we’re forty-something?” Opps! Then I immediately revise my statements to “Oh I mean old like really old, not our kind of old” in a pitiful attempt to not be old myself. Only walking away thinking to myself “Jesus, they’re right I am getting old too…..SHIT.”

Getting old isn’t so bad. Its just a number. You’re only as old as you feel you are. (insert any number of failing to make oneself feel better cliche type sayings here) I feel good. My health is good. My mind is¬†good yeah well my mind is still there.

However sometimes I sit and think to myself. Is this where I am supposed to be? Was this all part of the plans I envisioned for myself? The only problem is, I can’t say with certainty what “the plan” really was for me. You have all the normal life’s goals of course. Do good, be happy, make money, support yourself, but past all that what was “my” plan?

I am at the old or young age of forty-two still unsure what my plan for life really is. Can I invent something that will save the world, or destroy it? Sure I could, but what is it? Can I paint or create the next artistic master piece? Sure I could, but what is it? Can I inspire millions of people, or just one person? Sure I could, but who?

There are so many variables that plot out and or influence either directly or indirectly in our lives to figure out ones place in the world. What do you believe in? What do you have faith in? Do you chase the plan down, does it come to you like a vision while scratching your ass in line at the grocery store? Do you just carry on believing it will find you? I have no clue. I guess I am still in the camp of not knowing what I want to be when I grow up. I am still waiting to see.

I am waiting to see. I have my eyes open. That wasn’t always the case though and at times I still need to remind myself to slow down and look around. Society pushes us in directions which we mistakenly think is normal and “the way we should go”. I used to believe and subscribe to this idea. Go to school, get a job, make lots of money, get married, have lots of kids, go in debt, curse the kids, curse the wife, lose the job, die. I used to believe all this too. Now, not so much. I watched my peers, family, friends do these things and I even did some of these things.

No, now I plot and follow a much simpler course. Do good, be happy, be me and wait and see. Oh, and of course second guess myself at every turn on this wait and see path wondering what it is I am supposed to see. If there is one thing worse then living by simple and sound advice its hoping the shit was right and it all works out. I am ready, willing and able for life, and I know theres more for me, but what? I am in no rush honestly although my age tells a voice in my head “well what the fuck lets get this thing on”.

In the end I cant complain. I am already rich and I am happy. I’m rich simply based on the friends and family I have and the work I do. I am happy with me. I got here honestly and while the road here took many turns, hills and valleys in the end I know I wound up here on my own and with clarity. I know I missed some opportunities on this path, and at times regretted them, but I know now, what I thought I wanted or needed really wasn’t for me. My eyes were closed in those times. Now my eyes are open and I wait and see.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

Happy Almost New Year

JellyBeansEveryone feeling fat and happy? I hope the holidays and Santa were kind to you, the faithful reader. I have no reports of domestic violence or homicide so I can only assume everyone got along with their families and enjoyed each others company. It was quiet and low key here which is the way we like it. When Christmas falls in the middle of the week, unless you take the entire week off as most people do, you really cant or at least I can’t seem to get too into the old Christmas spirit.

I got jelly beans for Christmas.

As another year comes to an end I have been reflecting and thinking about the new year to come. Everyones making new year resolutions, wanting to change this thing or that situation. I really don’t have anything special I want to do differently. I try and live life to the best of my ability. Sometimes my best may not be much, and circumstances in my control and not ¬†in my control may dictate otherwise, but I really try and make the best of what comes my way. What’s the point otherwise? Is there things I want to change? Sure there are. I wish I was better looking with a smaller penis, but guess what? I can’t change those things with which I was born. So I might as well make due with the circumstances as best I can. Right?

What about eating more healthy? Ok sure. If by healthy one means the food I enjoy eating isnt made in some Chinese factory with lead paint and child slave labor pee’ing plutonium into the food, sure. I’ll eat more healthy by not buying that crap. I’ll just make it myself without the lead paint and plutonium pee. Easy enough.

I guess what I am trying to say in a less then articulate way, is if I have a resolution it is simple. Keep on living life without regret. Life’s not going to be perfect and frankly sometimes it may outright suck. I’ll make more mistakes, I’ll live, learn and keep moving forward, but I’ll do it in a way that makes me happy. Oh and if being assholish makes you happy, don’t intentionally hurt anyone else. Its a pretty simple theory.

I had a good conversation with a friend over lunch the other day. Some people grow up, bust their ass every day all day and then go home at night to do it all over again the next day. The predominant thought is once you get to retirement or old age etc, you’ve worked your whole life to enjoy the end of it. You know what I say to that? WTF? Why? By the time I can retire, I’ll be half dead, blind, shitting my pants trying to screw cute nursing home staff in broom closets. Thats not something to aspire to with hard work and a miserable life in the salt mines. I am going to do all that anyway. If I make it that long and get there of course. I say, within reason and good sense, live life now! Enjoy it while you can. You can cross the street tomorrow and get wiped out by an idiot driving a bus, lightning strike, cancer or any number of things. Then what? Its too late. When its time to go and leave this earthly existence, we aren’t taking anything with us. What you got in the end is what you’ve done up to that moment.

Resolve to enjoy your life everyday. Even when it sucks, you have to admit its pretty damn good. I have been fortunate in my life so far to travel this world, see other people and cultures, kill some of them, and come home in one piece to know its pretty nice here. I am going to enjoy it as much as I can every day, not just the last few.

No regrets. Do no harm unless its harm to ensure your own happiness and welfare. If the end is tomorrow or in another fifty years, I know I’ll be able to look my higher power, or god, or unicorn rainbow bunnies in the face and say, “I anted up, played the hand I was dealt and left it all on the table when it was time.” I think thats the best you can wish for in any life.

You accomplish all those things, and you get lucky enough to add the love of family, friends, and a good dog in the mix and you my friend are a king among kings.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

It’s beginning to smell a lot like


Its the day before Christmas Eve. It’s Sunday. It’s 8am EST. I should probably start my Christmas shopping. Didn’t I blog about this nonsense and getting an early start this year? Good intentions pave the way to hell. Well I am not officially late. Late will be if I don’t do anything today and go out shopping tomorrow. If I shop today, technically I could still achieve my resolution to begin early, but honestly why break tradition? I’ll go out tomorrow with my father whom I am certain is in the exact same position I am in. Maybe thats where I get it from? Is procrastination genetic? Is “my low level of give a fucks” passed down from father to son? Am I just some kind of holiday season retail anomaly? Why can’t the month of December take as long to get through as getting into the magical underwear of the hot Mormon girl at prom? Why god? WHY?

I am happy to report I got into the festivities this year. I realized I had in my possession a rather nice Christmas blanket with trees and wreathes and whatnot stitched into it. So I pulled it out and put it over the back of the couch. DING DING Christmas decorating and holiday spirit.

Me and awesome = +1
Broken holiday resolution = 0

DWB_BDCakeYou may remember my small video tribute to my friend Debbie in honor of her wish for a certain themed Magic Mike birthday last weekend. Well for being a good sport through it all (hey who doesn’t love dancing retards special people¬†with boners for their birthday?) I made her a birthday cake.

Its basically a chocolate, chocolate, chocolate and to break up the chocolate, some Reese’s peanut butter cup pieces chocolate cake.

I have another good friend that works for M&M Mars, and he’s going to kick me in the balls when he see’s this post and that I besmirched his chocolate empire for supporting Hershey inc. What I go through and do for friends.

DWB_BDCake1Then my arch nemesis in the baking world “Bakerella” tries to sneak attack my birthday cake making plans and below the radar, without consulting me, the self proclaimed master, of baking and cooking amongst our small group of friends and makes the same cake for our mutual friend Debbie.

Damn you Bakeralla! Damn you to H, E, double hockey sticks! I will have my revenge! ;-P

Seriously though, its all good. Its a small testament of how lucky I am to be associated with and have the group of friends that I do. I mean its not everyday a rather masculine man would openly blog about baking birthday cakes and then take such make believe offense of having his baking spotlight stolen from him in the most treacherous of ways. Fella must have some good friends. Yeah, I do. I’m pretty blessed. Except that Bakerella chick, watch your back around that one, she’s like a Martha Stewart with a switchblade knife. LOL

Coffee’s running low, grass needs cutting, and someone needs help moving a couch. No rest for the wicked!

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!


Ask and You Shall Receive

Its my friend Debbie’s birthday weekend. We refer to Debbie as the party princess for her good nature and always up for a good time without any drama. Well Debbie wants her birthday weekend to have a “Magic Mike” theme. After the urge to vomit, I somehow regain control and think to myself, “hey its her weekend and she likes the movie Magic Mike so she deserves what she wants.”

So TGIF my friends. Debbie, Party Princess, heres to an awesome birthday weekend, and here for your viewing pleasure, is as Magic Mike as I could get. Enjoy your birthday girl!

I Will Survive in My Mach 5

But I am blasting past,
with chickie on the dash
Chickie on the gas, go chickie! 

This is one of my nieces, Charlotte. She is about a year and a half old and almost getting to the age where I can teach her to say dirty words. She loves me. Her uncle will be so proud of her if I can get her to say “Bullshit” on Santa’s lap this year.

We’re in the final stretch and heading toward the election finish line. Can you feel it? Soon there will be no more annoying commercials. No more obnoxious tweets or Facebook posts. (yea right) Well you get the picture anyway.

Reality is Wednesday we’ll wake up and no matter who wins the election between then and January the mainstream media will inundate us with talk of election fraud, ballot tampering, lawsuits and how one party screwed the other. You heard it here first so get ready. Yes, I know its going to suck a little more, but look at it like this, we’ve got the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays fast approaching so there will be plenty of chances to escape the ugly reality of politics for a little while at least. A Romney win will also ease some tensions, but I think its too close to call.

Friday I met up with friends. We had dinner and hung out at a few of our old haunts. A good time was had by all. A friend on mine whom I have teased on this very blog about her baking and cooking skills gave me a cook book for my birthday. Its a reprint from 1957 and actually its pretty good. I suspect she got it as a joke, but I have actually spent the rest of the weekend reading it from cover to cover. My friend doesn’t know I actually look for and enjoy reading old cookbooks as a hobby.

Last week, I downloaded a .PDF of an original cookbook from Berkley, California from the 1960’s that used to be given away by a
grocery store co-op that is no longer in existence. It’s absolutely intriguing to read period cookbooks from the past to see how people ate. It can tell you a lot of things about the time and people. The foods are essentially the same as today, but you can definitely get a feeling for times past when someone is talking about making say a pot roast, with a chuck steak as being economical at .39 cents per pound for the meat. Furthermore, can you imagine look at and reading a recipe in a book that was last popular and seen by the likes of Janis Joplin and Charles Manson or Jimi Hendrix? That’s who was running around this area of California when this cookbook was in the hands of the hippies making love not war movement.

Don’t be surprised if you start seeing some old school recipes show up on the blog. If they turn out good, of course I’ll take credit. If not, then we’ll continue the trend of blaming Debbie or the hippies of the 1960’s. Kidding of course. Debbie doesn’t take any crap off me and is a good sport. The comment section of this blog proves that out.

In other news. I have an internet buddy who lives in Kentucky. He makes a BBQ and really an all purpose spice blend, seasoning. Steve sent me a couple of bottles to try out last week. I have only tasted it on my finger, but its damn good. Watch this space for a complete report. I am going to start using he hell out of it. I think you guys may like it. I have two bottles and may give one away here to a lucky reader but thats only if I can control myself from using both bottles Steve sent me. In any event I’ll set up some links and or emails so that you can order and get your own. It’s that good trust me. I damn near ate a finger off tasting this stuff.

Well that’s it for a Monday report. Get up early and go vote tomorrow. The country needs you more then ever now. Your vote matters. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.