It’s been a while

It’s been awhilelucillelight
Since I couldn’t
Hold my head up high
And it’s been awhile
Since I said, “I’m sorry”

A year ago tomorrow I lost my Golden Retriever, Lucille to cancer. The hows and whys have been discussed and documented in this blog over the last year so I wont bore the audience with rehashing of the past.

I have been thinking about this approaching anniversary with mixed emotions. I wont lie its been mostly dread and sadness. Dread and sadness because I find myself slowly forgetting the small things about the dog. Her smell, her soft fur, how she would follow or look at me when I talked to her or her paws smelling like Fritos. The tangible things we take for granted. I’ll always carry her memory in my heart and mind, but the small things with time slip away.

I have rescued a couple or new dogs since Lucille has left, and while I have just as much an attachment to them as I did to her, its not the same. I didn’t hold these dogs at a week old. While I know both these new dogs are as happy and content to be here with me now, and the happiness I have in looking at them in their gratified lives there are times I still miss Lucille and wish she was here. All in all I guess I am right where I expected to be mentally a year later. I give myself a C+ or 73%

It’s also been a while since I posted up any McAwesome recipes over in the food section. Well fear not, its summer and its BBQ season. I have been experimenting on brisket and ribs these last few weeks.

BBQ is such a subjective issue with people. It doesn’t matter if I made ribs, chicken, or whatever standing next to Jesus H. Christ himself and my food was touched by the hand of the son of God. People are generally particular about what they consider good BBQ and thats BBQ that they make themselves or were raised eating.

Another reason this is true is because with the exception of a very few restaurants across this country making and selling true low and slow BBQ for profit is a no win proposition. To properly smoke a brisket takes 12-15 hours. Ribs 5-7 hours. Pulled pork 10 hours. So most restaurants cheat the BBQ and cook these meats conventionally in a more expeditious manner to remain profitable. This is the biggest reason when you go out to eat BBQ why its generally just ok. Nothing to knock your socks off or better then what you have done yourself at home following the most traditional BBQ cooking methods.

Well I have been playing around with my ribs recipe. Both my spare and baby back loin ribs and I am making and eating ribs in less then one hour and twenty minutes start to finish. If you didn’t see how I do it, I could put the ribs up with any restaurants and frankly enter them into BBQ contests and Im sure half those idiot judges would passing grade them.

I’ll put a rib recipe up in a few days with the trick. There will be true BBQ enthusiast controversy involved in the manner in which I get them done so quick, but then you can ask yourself, “Do I want ribs like within an hour or do I want to plan an entire day around them?”

Let me get this next part out of the way for the NSA and Uncle Sam in case they are reading along too. “Eat my ass!”

Nothing is private anymore folks. If you don’t want others knowing your business don’t put it out there.

That’s about the size of things. It’s a new day and a new week.

Let ‘er rip tater chips!

Take Away This Ball and Chain

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

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

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

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

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

Moving along…

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

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

Are you ready?

Are you sure?

Better sit down.

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

Then I made some raisin bread. See?

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

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

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

First TGIF of 2013 and its all downhill from here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until this afternoons walk.

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

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




An Open Letter to Lucille


Dear Lucille,

Six months ago yesterday, I told you goodbye not knowing I would never see you again. Since that time, your brother Rudy has joined you, and by now I am sure you have found Jasper, Bullet, and Sally.

You’ll be happy to know that I adopted another dog that needed a home. He’s a smaller Cocker Spaniel and has a lot of your traits. His name is Lucas. You probably know all this already. He plays with all your old toys and chews all your old bones. He especially likes the bones you chewed groves in with your teeth. His mouth is smaller you know. Lucas follows me around the house from room to room like you did and he jumps on the couch to  look out the window as you did.

I fight my memory trying to remember all the different looks you had. Some I can recall, but with time things are drifting further away. Your soft fur, your cold nose in my ear to wake me up in the morning and growling at the rabbits in the yard I miss, but you not being at the door when I get home I miss most.

Where ever you wound up I know you’re better now. Running, swimming, all day I am sure.  I know we’ll see each other again. I want you to know I am doing alright. You gave me the best thing in life. I tell anyone that listens, that I had the best and prettiest dog. You were so smart and never a problem even when you got sick.

You’re the bossy one so keep the rest of the pack in line. When I get there I’ll have your favorite egg nog and I’ll throw the frisbee for you until my arms fall off.

Miss you.


Friday’s Lunch and some new changes

Went out to lunch today with a friend to a local joint called Hurricane wings. It a small chain wing bar food type place. Nothing to write home about. I had the boneless Jamaican jerk wing nugget things.  Not bad, not near as hot as they should have been.

I shared an order of Parmasan and garlic fries with my lunch date while I got a chance to discuss this blog and some of the changes I wanted to make. The fries were actually better then the wing nuggets things or whatever the hell they may be. I have included a picture of the fries too.

Oh thats right. You may have noticed some changes around here. Guess I better explain.

The original system I was using to create the blog was a little outdated and some of the features were broken since Apple stopped supporting the application. Comments especially were broken and the only way I could get them working was to code the ability myself which would take more time and effort then I cared to spend. Furthermore, why invent the wheel all over again. So I stepped up to big boy content management which you see here.

It will allow you and I a better chance to interact together here which was what I wanted from the beginning of this project.

Small disclaimer: In order to comment on posts the system may ask you for some information such as your name and a valid email address. It does this for a couple reasons, but mostly to try and deny spam bots from placing garbage comments. The system will ask for this information only on your first comment. Then as the admin of the site, I get to approve your first comment. From this point forward you wont have to submit the info and your comments will automatically appear since the system “thinks your a trusted source”. I promise you, not today, next week, next month or ever in the future will I sell or share your contact information. Enter something legit if you can so I know your not some Nigerian scumbag trying to scam some seed money for a large stockpile of gold I may have inherited from a dead relative. I just wanted you to hear this little bit from me and my mouth. Your info is safe if you choose to participate. I hope you do.

So I have some work to do. I do not want to abandon the first ten or so entries from the old site so I need to bring them over here with the pictures. I have a few things to clean up here as well. If you find something broken or stupid with the way this new system works please comment me, email, let me know. I’ll kick the Lama’s ass!

Thanks for your patience.


PS. My friend Amy who was my lunch date today is watching a couple of dogs for a friend of hers. This is Paddy. He’s Irish. He’s a Golden Retriever. He’s f’ing cute.


TGIF or how I woke up and thought..


I dont care if it rains or freezes long as I got my plastic Jesus riding on the dashboard of my car.

Goin ninety I aint scary cause I got the virgin mary assuring me that i wont go to hell.

…the best movie in the world, ok maybe not “The Best” but my top five short list of best movies in the world is Cool Hand Luke. I have pretty much modeled my life after the main character Lucas Jackson albeit subconsciously most of the times.

Hell I named the best dog I ever owned and loved “Lucille” after one of the characters in the movie.

If you have not seen the movie, rent it, buy it, amazon it whatever. You’ll watch it at least twenty-sixteen times or something. I swear.

Anyway, without spoiling the movie, Luke is a one of a kind, natural born world shaker. His mother dies while he’s in the road gang and he gets put in “the box” for no reason other then in case he tries to escape for her funeral. He does escape a few times gets caught each time, but jail, the bosses and the captain cant break him. Remind of you anyone

Throughout the movie Newman’s character has an internal battle with the man upstairs (God) about giving him a sign or something to show him what he is supposed to do with his life.

Now I cant say that I have much the same debate with God or whatever my higher power may be from one week to another about doing something with my life, but I can relate in a way to Luke in this regard.

You see if there is a God or some kind of Devine higher power, that son of a bitch took my Lucille away from me at the ripe old age of four and half years old. She was still a fucking puppy in my eyes with a shit ton of good years ahead of her.

“….for reasons you don’t know he/she/it has a plan and we don’t always know the bigger picture.”

Yea what the hell ever.

“…..maybe your karma is bad”

I pretty much live my life by a few simple principles. Try and be kind, treat others fairly and with respect. Lastly in the almighty words of Tony Montana “I aint never fucked nobody over that didn’t have it coming to him, and in this world all I got is my balls and my word and I don’t break them for no one.” Oh look another movie mantra I live by, starting to see a pattern here.

So I question this whole faith in the higher power thing. In the big picture or plan, who am I really? I don’t really take or give, I cared pretty much about one thing in life and it was that Golden Retriever. In the grand scheme of things what was the significance of me or Lucille or allowing her at such a young age to get a mass on her spleen?

“…simple science and biology man, these things happen, there is no control just bad luck.”

Yeah I know, and I have honestly accepted that. But it doesn’t make the battle with faith in our higher power any less problematic. That this happened goes against everything faith supposedly teaches us.

Is there a heaven and hell? I don’t know. So far in life I have done enough and frankly have the sky miles to upgrade to a first class seat to both locations. Is this the reason Lucille is gone? I recognize and try to live life on the good side of the equation of the force and not go to the dark side. The whole fear leads to anger, anger leads to…..oh wait thats George Lucas…fuck another movie.

I am so screwed…..Lucille I love you and miss you baby girl. Find God or Lucifer or Yoda and I will see you again at another time. Some day I may get another dog, she wont be another Lucille but she may be a “Dragline” or a “Coconut Head- Koko” or a “Babalugats”.

This entry is dedicated to Lucille Retriever Kingston 2007-2012