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Thoughts, stories, ideas, recipes, cheers, and more... What else did you think you would get for a $1 tip?

For those of you looking for something on the more sophisticated side you have my apologies. This blog unfortunately mirrors the author (yours truly.) Some of the humor is not for everyone but I liked it and it's my blog so there! My patrons sometimes ask me where I come up with some of this stuff. I am glad to tell them my mind is a lot like Canada. It is sometimes a bit cold, there are a few dark corners, some of it down right confusing and even a bit dirty but there is also a lot of neat stuff up there. So I hope you all enjoy this blog! ... Cheers!

Monday, April 30, 2012

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Life and Death

There is not too much I consider to be life and death. I never have been too detail oriented and that has probably made me a bit more happy- go- lucky than most of the poor schlubbs out there who constantly sweat the small stuff in life. My feelings are pretty simple here why worry so much now? There is plenty to worry about in the final days or last breaths I take.

From what I hear from those who have seen the other side all you have to do is say "Lord save me." as you take your last earthly breath and poof the darkness will turn to a bright peaceful light. Sounds simple enough but just in case I should probably have it tattooed somewhere on me sort of like a sticky note upon my delivery where ever I may be headed. In which case I should probably have more that just that instruction on me. I mean a good "handle with care" would be nice too. Speaking of which why is it the people who have crosses and all sorts of religious symbols on them are the ones you are certain are going to hell? Next time you see someone with a huge cross on their chest be sure he is the least peaceful of the bunch. Or I could always be like Angelina Jolie and get all sorts of religious symbols so that way I have all my bases covered. Seems to me if I want to find God all I have to do is commit a felony as it seems everyone in prison finds Jesus eventually.

Every religion seems to think they know the way to heaven. I think if I ever go looking for God I'm definitely not going to be following a Jehovah's Witness as they only seem to be wandering from house to house. Let's face it, they must be giving some people the wrong directions. They believe only 14,400  will be allowed in heaven. I'm sorry but when I go to the Olive Garden I tell people coming up to the door there is at least a 4 hour wait for a table and the people in front of me that I'm from the health department and I am about to shut the place down just so I can be sure I get my endless pasta and bread sticks. Go down the road to T.G.I. Friday's never mind Heaven! You can bet your ass I will be telling people then a whole new set of instructions.

Muslims are under the impression that if you die a martyr you will go to heaven and receive 72 virgins. Now am not sure why 72 is the number but have you ever seen 72 virgins? If no one wanted to touch these ladies in life what makes you think they look any better in death. All I can picture is Hajji blowing himself to smithereens thinking of the great prize on the other side in paradise and coming face to face with what I can only imagine look like my late Aunt Hellen and her hairy lip that would make even Tom Selleck jealous.

What does this all have to do with me you might be asking or maybe where might he be going here? This has me thinking of my own death. Not so much the legacy I will leave but more like what do I want in those days leading up to the great dirt nap. Especially if I am on some sort of extended life support. If I'm no longer able to do anything for myself ie: speak in coherent sentences, wipe my own ass or get a hard-on with the help of little blue pills. Then feel free to pull the plug! But don't just pull it and walk away sad that wouldn't be any fun at all. Here is what I came up with...

Prop me up "Weekend at Bernie's" style in the front of a wood panel station wagon. Give me one of those big cigars and duct tape me to the steering wheel. Bring me out to the grand canyon and set up a ramp. Now it is very important that we video tape all this. We will call the video "Death by Charles!" I want David Copperfield or David Blaine or hell just get some random guy who does magic at kids birthday parties to come and make a name for himself.

Here is where it get's technical so pay attention. We tell everyone I am going to be magically sent as a messenger to the future. Get that woody wagon up to 88 miles an hour and once I hit that ramp I want to be so loaded with explosives I can not be found except for smoke.

All proceeds from the video can go to whatever family I still have and everyone gets a good chuckle out of the day. Everyone go out for a drink, give a dirty toast and tip your bartender well in my name. No tears. Lord save me.

The End!


Thursday, April 12, 2012

Fan-Dom In All Its Glory

So this past week I have had the good fortune of scoring ticket's to 2 Boston Celtics games. For those of you who do not know the Celtic's are the National Basketball Association (NBA) Boston franchise. Now I am among the biggest basketball fans I know and I know a good number of Celtic and plain basketball fans in general.

Now each time I have gone to a game this week and every time in the past, there is a few cameras that roam the crowd while there is a break in the action. With the music playing and the camera on I can see where someone might get a little excited and wave to the camera. Maybe even a little "Hi Mom!" Also why is it always Mom that get's the love in these situations. I mean it is usually Dad that coaches the man as a child and teaches the fundamentals on how to throw and catch a ball. How to run the right way, proper stance and even rules to the game. Yet stick a camera in the grown athletes face and suddenly Dad is a thought of the past. I digress...

Music is up and the camera flashes to random faces in the stands and there is always unimaginable number of freaks. Yes I said freaks. If you get the fortune of acquiring a ticket to a major sporting event what the hell makes a grown individual feel the need to pain their face, shave numbers into their back hair, dress like a complete jackass or better yet behave like one? And this happens in every city where there is a major or minor league team for that manor. First of all if you are over the age of 30 and you show up to a sporting event with any of the above mentioned please get a mental check-up. Seriously someone missed a few hugs.

I can understand if you are in college and you are pledging a fraternity/ sorority or just want to be noticed for being the campus wild-man. Yeah I get that.  And yet I realize this is an exciting day for you as it isn't everyday that they let the monkeys out of the zoo but seriously try to contain yourself. If you ever find yourself leaving the house in a bright green body stocking and Rastafarian hat complete with wig just so you might snag a precious minute on the jumbo-tron it may be time to take up a hobby like crack - cocaine or I hear alcoholism is making a comeback.

Just think of all the friends you could make in the addiction support groups then. Not to mention the oncoming depression that would ensue and maybe that will keep you from leaving the house dressed as an Aztec warrior with tiny shorts on or giving yourself a nickname and bothering the other fans telling them to yell like the dumb ass you are. Even better by all means please think of who else's night you are completely buggering up. If you are standing in front of me with your giant letter D and a partial picket fence yelling "D - Fence!" as though your team is going to come to their senses and start spreading the word among themselves in sheer surprise "Hey guys maybe we should try what all the fans are yelling."

While I am on the subject of fans, where the hell did all the dance teams come from and who the heck are they inspiring to victory? Here is a great plan. Let's take 25 smoking hot women and dress them in practically nothing then send them out like gladiators to dance like strippers before the lions armed with nothing more than high-heeled thigh high boots. I understand my argument here probably will not be a popular one with some of the gentlemen. However no wonder your team can't hit a jump shot coming a time out. Bambi just finished showing off her fun factory doing high leg kicks with all her friends while your star player was suppose to be paying attention to what the coach is saying. Do you know how hard it is to play ball with an erection? Never mind knocking down the game winning shot. Who are these ladies inspiring?

One more thing. If you are overweight,  undersized or are not already on the roster for the evening why are you dressed like you are going to get asked to play? Even the Sacramento Kings have never pulled anyone out of the stands. I realize you have been waiting for your one shining moment to come along. For the coach to turn to the stands as the all star hobbles off the floor with an injury, points to you and says "Hey you, the fat guy in the jersey. You are already dressed to play and I bet you have a great shot why don't you get out here and take it home for us." It is NEVER going to happen! So please feel free to wear a t-shirt under that basketball jersey and some regular street shoes. By all means refrain from letting us know that you use to be "wicked good at defense in high school."

Ticket prices, parking and a hotdog anymore takes a cost of a small business loan for the common working stiff. So please take a lesson from the British tennis fans. Come to the game, sit down, shut up and cheer a little bit when someone does something note worthy. On the flip side if you find yourself a friend that doesn't mind a bit of violence and make a pact. Should you ever want to leave the house with your mullet painted bright green, feel the need to not wear a shirt and paint your body the team colors, or have ever even thought of dressing up like a freak of nature to go to the game, Instruct said friend to put a bullet in you and end it all quick and painless so the rest of us don't have to sit next to you in close quarters when the paint starts to run and the deodorant/ antiperspirant calls it quits.


OK, Well being a Philly fan I am totally for this!

Wednesday, April 4, 2012


Alright I realize this post is just about as sophomoric as one guy can be, however I have been a bit deprived lately and I guess this is where my mind is at right now. I also realize in the vein of not taking myself too seriously I am about as mentally and morally as deep as a roadside puddle and sometimes that is just fine by me. Have you ever noticed how jolly the mentally incapacitated of this world truly are?

Here is something fun to try. Pick out the dumbest person you know. I mean just ignorant as the day is long. Then the next time you go to see them, bring them a lollipop, fudgicle, candy bar or some other tasty treat. Just for no reason. Then count the number of days till they stop calling you their best friend.

A few years ago I got new downstairs neighbors and they rubbed me the wrong way from the day I met them. One day they brought me Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I swear to you if that guy needed a kidney today I might step up for him.

Where was I going with all this... Oh yes I remember allow me to bring it back into focus, damn ADD, I have that in high definition I have ADHD. That joke sucks and you all deserve better. My apologies. 

Now then my post today is about euphemisms. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and when I asked him what he was doing later he said he was going home to "rub one out" and then take a nap. To which I replied wouldn't it be great if they sold pussy at the super market! Bartenders would never make another dollar. Just about every guy I know would have a weekend that looked like this: Sleep in till noon, go to the market and pick up a six-pack of pussy and a case of beer, use said products, nap, watch the game and repeat. Could you imagine the amount of shoplifting! Oh my goodness! Some guys just getting EBT cards to support their 2 pack of pussy a day habit. Oh sure it's fine for the ladies to have a drawer full of rubber dicks but try taking out a box of pussies in front of your girl next time she wants to have a little fun. I guarantee the response you get will not be what you hope for. Men would be back to ruling the world for real and not just puppets for the women behind them! I'm starting to get light headed just thinking of the implications. 

So this post is about euphemisms for masturbation among other things. Now don't get all wrinkle nosed and holier than thou on me. We all do it just some like to deny they do. Also keep in mind no matter the size of the tool we have all us guys when we are alone think we have a giant one eyed thunder stick in our pants. So none of these references will ever be about anything small or inadequate. Wondering if that is true? Just read one Penthouse Letter and see how the guys who write in describe their member. "That's when I took my purple headed love stick and dipped it into her honey pot of joy." Suddenly we become the pornographic Shakespeare as well. You really have to ask yourself who writes this kind of crap and how. I can only picture some poor schlub who just got a little something, something sitting in a dark corner with pen and pad in one hand and pecker in the other. Anywho...Here is the list I came up with. Enjoy! 

Spanking the monkey
The 5 knuckle shuffle
Poking little Jonny behind the ear
Flogging the dolphin
Rubbing one out. 
Taming the lizard
Knocking out the one eyed champ
Bopping the Bishop
Stroming the Thurmon
Playing the one hole finger flute.
Pleasing the tube steak
Waxing the carrot
Whacking off
Beating it.

Lubing the Stanley (because he is a power tool)
A date with Rosey Palmer and her 5 friends
Abusing the wicked stick
Adjusting the antenna
Aiding and abedding a known felon
Applying the hand break
Fighting with Hank and the twins
Arm wrestling with the mean muscle
Going to war with the one eyed, purple headed warrior
Auditioning the hand puppet
Badgering the witness
Battling the one man, mushroom headed yogurt slinger
Being my own best friend
Beating the meat
relaxing the bologna

Blowing the horn
Shaking hands with Richard Cranium
Meeting the President
Burp the worm
Calling down for more mayo
Caning the vandal
Charm the snake
Choke Kojak
Choke the chicken
Cleaning out your account
Clearing the snorkel
Combing the hair on your bald pig Sally
Consulting with your silent partner
Couch hockey for one
Crank the love pump

Crown the king
Cuff the kielbasa
Dancing with the one-eyed sailor
Date Miss Michigan (The finger lakes, get it?)
Digital penile oscillation
Do handiwork
Drain the monster
Engage in safe sex
Fiddle the flesh flute
Firing the pound gun
Fist your mister
Saying hello to Mr. Richard
Petting the mule
Fondle your flagpole
Freeing Willey

Gallop the old lizard
Gardening with the golden trowel
Get the German soldier marching
Polishing the pole
Varnishing the wood
Giving yourself a low fist bump
Go a couple of rounds with ol' Josh
Go on a date with Handrea and Palmela
Going Hans Solo on Darth Vader's head
Greasing the mechanism
Greasing the three-legged cow
Helping put Mr. Kleenex's kids through college
Doing some wrist work
Hugging the hog
Invoking the Oscar Meyer love spell

Jacking the hammer
Jerkin' the gherkin
Liquidating the inventory
Looking for clues with Fred and Daphne (Couldn't hate the Scooby Doo reference.)
Love the Muppet
Make the bald man puke
Making chowder with sailor Ned
Manual labor
Shake the protein maker
One gun salute
Paddle the pickle
One-night-stand with yourself
Painting the ceiling
Darning the sock
Play a little five-on-one
Play pocket pinball

Tagging the pink torpedo  
Play Uno
Polish Percy in your palm
Pull your taffy
Pump the Python
Relishing your hot dog
Smack the salami
Taking a load off
Tickle the pickle
Whitewashing with Huck and Tom
Windsurf on Mount Baldy
Work things out
Yank the yo-yo
Wrist aerobics

Alright that seems like a pretty good list for now. But if anyone has anymore to add let me hear them. I mean just type them out. No need to shout it out. Just like masturbation, keep that to yourself! And for heaven sakes wash your hands.


Monday, April 2, 2012

Easter Bunny vs Santa Claus in a Battle Royal

Walking through the mall the other day I was noticing that the line for the Easter Bunny isn't exactly in line with it's winter counterpart Santa Claus. Seems the jolly old fat man carries a bit more clout than a 6ft bunny rabbit. Comparing the two gives us an interesting study in human behavior.

Both are costumed symbols for their perspective holiday's and oh those crazy Catholics (of which I use to be a member of) found a way to get their grubby little paws on both holidays. Santa the mascot for Christmas and the birth of Jesus. The Easter Bunny for the rising of Christ 3 days after death. Allow me to be a bit more clear...

Santa Claus is modeled after one Nikolaos of Myra (aka St. Nicolas) a 4th century saint and Greek Bishop of Myra which is in Turkey. Nikolaos is said to be the patron saint of sailors, merchants, archers, thieves, children and students. Quite the umbrella for the jolly fat guy.

Nikolaos got the reputation by being a secret gift giver by doing such things as putting coins in the shoes of children who left them out in the street for him overnight. Where the breaking and entering through the chimney came from is up in the air however his image was started by Clement Clarke Moore's 1823 poem "A Visit From St. Nicolas." The poem depicts Santa living at the North Pole with magical elves and eight flying reindeer (Rudolf always gets hosed here sort of like being the 5th Beatle.) The poem was later supported and brought to life by political cartoonist Thomas Nast.

Santa is said to have a list sort of like the KGB of old Soviet Union telling him who is naughty and nice. He brings toys to the good kids and has his very own coal mine for leaving a lump of coal for the bad. Allows parents to hang this over their kids heads for the entire year and keeps kids everywhere wondering where he hides the cameras all over the house for his everyday voyeurism.

The Easter Bunny on the other hand does not come from any particular patron saint nor is there ever any mention in the most popular book in the world (the Bible) about a 6 foot rabbit in a bow tie going house to house dropping off eggs and candy. Rabbits also to my knowledge don't lay eggs. So the little bunnies must be stealing them from the hen houses which makes them a twisted version of Robin Hood? No, that just couldn't be right.

Unless we are talking about Playboy Bunnies and it seems Santa can't even grant me those no matter how good I am and how many letters I write every year. Which then also makes Hugh Hefner God and the mansion with grotto a church. Which is not so hard to believe really seeing all the 20 year old tail he pulls yearly and how many dreams he makes come true every month for men and some women everywhere. Churches fall under the non-profit umbrella and this makes me wonder if Hugh has to pay property tax? Also with the way the Catholics like to latch on to pagan rituals and make them their own, why the catholic church has not developed a holiday around Saint Hefner?

Actually the Easter Bunny can be traced back to 13th century pre-Christian Germany. Eostra was the Goddess of Spring and fertility. Her symbol was the rabbit for their rapid rate of reproduction with a gestation period of about 30 days producing litters of 4 to 12 babies per. Err go the saying "Fuck like rabbits." Breaking this down to a short story and follow me here, Spring symbolizes rebirth, eggs symbolizes fertility. The eggs are painted in pretty spring colors to coincide with the season. Catholics wanted in yet again on another great character started by pagans and so the line of correlation was drawn from Spring to eggs, from rabbits to rebirth hanging a sharp left at Catholicism and Jesus rising from the grave 3 days after those Roman bastard's hemmed him up on a cross for saying he was the Son of God.

Alright enough history and let me bring this all back around to where I began. The mall. Why now after all this does Santa get all the shine? Simple really like all crimes follow the money. Santa sells out more than a Democrat hooker standing in front of the Republican National Convention. Toys, merchandise, music and dreams! Santa sells and even gets to headline the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade! He is jolly and let's kids sit on his lap in just about every department store in the world. OK that sounds creepy, but Santa has an excellent marketing team in those little magic elves. The Easter Bunny to a kid under 7 years old is nothing more than a 6 foot rat. He doesn't talk, laugh or giggle. It just sits their with those creepy eyes and waves at passers by. I know people close to my own age that still believe in Jolly Old St. Nick. I knew the bunny was phoney at the ripe age of 10.

Easter is Christmas's bitch and there is no two ways about it. But keep giving me designer jelly beans and Reece's peanut butter eggs and screw Christmas! I will do my best to keep the bunny love alive. I hope you all will too. Here are a few good Easter cocktails for all of you.

Easter Egg
2 oz. - Cream of cocoanut
1 oz. - White Crème de Cacao
1 oz. - Cherry brandy
1 tsp. - Grenadine
1 tsp. - Blue Curacao
Drizzle glass with Chocolate syrup
Shake over ice and strain
Garnish with a Peep and a couple jelly beans

White Rabbit
.5 oz. - Amaretto 
.5 oz. - Kahlua
.5 oz. - Irish Cream
Splash of Milk
1 oz. -White Rum
Serve over ice

Spring Thyme
1 sprig of Thyme
10 - Blueberries
3 - Lemon wedges
.25 oz. - Honey
2 oz. - Vodka
Splash of Cranberry
Splash of St. Germaine
Muddle blueberries and lemon wedges
Fill highball glass with ice
Add Honey, St. Germaine, Cranberry and Vodka
Shake with ice and add a sprig of Thyme

Happy Easter!