It looks like Hillary is going to be the Secretary of State. Now if I was going to pick a secretary I would pick the chick from Mad Men, you know Christina Hendricks the chick with the bodacious ta-tas. Now that's a freakin secretary.
I know Bill would agree.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Celebrities suck.
These so called movie people were supposed to show up and negotiate about using the store for a shoot. The director was supposed to come to check it out and stuff but nobody has shown up yet and it is going on 5:30 pm and we are only open until 7 on Sundays.
So this just shows me I am right and these guys suck. They don't fulfill their obligations and don't even show up when they have a meeting. I am not impressed by celebrities. Joan Cussack is supposed to be in the flick. As that noted philosopher Derrick Coleman once said: Whoopdie Damn Doo. I don't care if it is Joan Cussack, John Cussack or your fucking Ball Sack you should show up if you make an appointment.
So this just shows me I am right and these guys suck. They don't fulfill their obligations and don't even show up when they have a meeting. I am not impressed by celebrities. Joan Cussack is supposed to be in the flick. As that noted philosopher Derrick Coleman once said: Whoopdie Damn Doo. I don't care if it is Joan Cussack, John Cussack or your fucking Ball Sack you should show up if you make an appointment.
Plaxico's got a gun!
Hey Plaxico shoots himself in the foot again. Well in the side. What a dick. THE WORLD CHAMPION NEW YORK GIANTS roll again by beating the Skins 23-7 but the headlines will be about this fool shooting hisself in the club. What a dick. The Giants are definitely going to drop him in one way or another. He had to have violated his contract in some way shape or form.
What amazes me about these guys is that when they are at the top of their game they don't realize that is all going to be over so quickly. He can never get back to the place he was just a few short months ago. A valued member of a Super Bowl Champion with a big contract and a solid future. He could hang around New York for Decades and live off that. Now he is joke. A punchline. Guys like Carl Banks and Roman Oben and Phil McConkey and Mark Bavaro have set themselves up for life after winning with the Giants. He had that all in front of him and he pissed it away. They never learn. Athletes are stupid.
What amazes me about these guys is that when they are at the top of their game they don't realize that is all going to be over so quickly. He can never get back to the place he was just a few short months ago. A valued member of a Super Bowl Champion with a big contract and a solid future. He could hang around New York for Decades and live off that. Now he is joke. A punchline. Guys like Carl Banks and Roman Oben and Phil McConkey and Mark Bavaro have set themselves up for life after winning with the Giants. He had that all in front of him and he pissed it away. They never learn. Athletes are stupid.
Baseball sayings say it all.
The term untrammeled was first popularized by Hall of Fame broadcaster Ernie Harwell when Alan Trammell retired in 1996 as the soft handed hard hitting shortstop of the Detroit Tigers. An excellent hitter and a fine fielder he also played on a team with Cecil Fielder. Alan Trammell was the heart and sole of the team and was a “True” Tiger. The term untrammeled came to mean losing your signature player due to retirement as a well known baseball cliché. Just as “Pulling a Ripken” came to mean being boring and showing up for work every day and “Jetering” has come to mean staying away from celebrity bimbos at the club because they have smelly twats.
(Hey I Jetered that Shortie!, Baseball Slang through the Years, Bill James, The Sporting News Press, 2006)
The keystone partner during those halcyon days of Tiger Supremacy was Sweet Lou Whitaker who had also had a secret. Not many people knew that he was the uncle of Dennis Rodman as his full name was Louis Rodman Whitaker, Jr. Sweet Lou was voted the American League rookie of the Year in 1978 but was most renowned for a habit he shared with his nephew Dennis. When the stress of the game became to much for him he would like to get dressed up in his mothers wedding dress and wear it in the locker room. Baseball has really progressed in recent years so he only endured mild teasing as evidenced by his nickname “Sweet Lou.” After retirement he went into television production and is currently executive producer of the TLC series “Say Yes to the Dress.”
(Hey I Jetered that Shortie!, Baseball Slang through the Years, Bill James, The Sporting News Press, 2006)
The most ambiguous baseball slang phrase actually is in Japanese and references former New York Mets manager Bobby Valentine. As you would find it in Japanese it is spelled
やきゅう すごい へんたい which means “Be my Bobby Valentine.” The exact meaning is obscure but it is believed to mean you should wear a costume with a fake mustache and try to pick up underage Oriental boys on the internet.
(Hey I Jetered that Shortie!, Baseball Slang through the Years, Bill James, The Sporting News Press, 2006)
(Hey I Jetered that Shortie!, Baseball Slang through the Years, Bill James, The Sporting News Press, 2006)
The keystone partner during those halcyon days of Tiger Supremacy was Sweet Lou Whitaker who had also had a secret. Not many people knew that he was the uncle of Dennis Rodman as his full name was Louis Rodman Whitaker, Jr. Sweet Lou was voted the American League rookie of the Year in 1978 but was most renowned for a habit he shared with his nephew Dennis. When the stress of the game became to much for him he would like to get dressed up in his mothers wedding dress and wear it in the locker room. Baseball has really progressed in recent years so he only endured mild teasing as evidenced by his nickname “Sweet Lou.” After retirement he went into television production and is currently executive producer of the TLC series “Say Yes to the Dress.”
(Hey I Jetered that Shortie!, Baseball Slang through the Years, Bill James, The Sporting News Press, 2006)
The most ambiguous baseball slang phrase actually is in Japanese and references former New York Mets manager Bobby Valentine. As you would find it in Japanese it is spelled
やきゅう すごい へんたい which means “Be my Bobby Valentine.” The exact meaning is obscure but it is believed to mean you should wear a costume with a fake mustache and try to pick up underage Oriental boys on the internet.
(Hey I Jetered that Shortie!, Baseball Slang through the Years, Bill James, The Sporting News Press, 2006)
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Snippet 5
The park was just down the street from the bar. It was a strange little park in the middle of million dollar brownstones. It had a wire hurricane fence and some benches and a war memorial from I think World War One. The senior citizens often came there to take the sun and the Jamacian nannies would bring the yuppie rug rats out to run around and scream while they gossiped. At dusk it was empty. Except for a man sitting on the bench across from the memorial.
He was of medium height with very nondescript features. Didn't look anything like his old man. He was dressed to the nines as usual in a fancy suit with shoes that probably cost more than my car. He was one guinea looking bastard with olive skin and kinky curly hair that caused him a lot of grief when he wore it in the style of an Afro when were in high school. Of course now he had it styled in a razor cut like all the wise guys did these days. Ever since Gotti glammed it up they all tried to look like the second coming of Amard fucking Assante.
"Hey Mikey. Very dramatic meeting in the park like this. Why couldn't we meet at your mothers house. At the kitchen table."
"Bobby thanks for coming. Sit down, we need to talk."
I sat. "I heard about your dad. Sorry man."
"He's dying Bobby. Got maybe two weeks. And the fucking sharks are circling. You hear about that shemanutz Victor." That was the capo from Park Slope who was the acting street boss of the family. He was the Snakes right hand man while he was in the joint. A real piece of work. Everybody hated him. Everybody was afraid of him. So far the fear was winning out.
"No what's that got to do with anything."
"He's just waiting for the old man to go. Then he's coming after me. Big time. And the rest of the guys in the club. Benny. Short Leg Louie. Bobby Bells. Shit he might even wanna whack Louie Nerve for all I know. He hates 'em enough to do it. It's going to be some sick shit."
"Hey that sucks man, but what can I do about it. I mean really. You made a lot of enemies Mikey and instant karma shit is gonna rain down on you or whatever that stupid song sez, ya know."
"Yeah I know. I can't just sit here and let it happen. I have to make a move. And I need your help."
"My help. That ain't happening. Look I can get jammed up just talking to you. There ain't shit I can do for you so forget about it."
"You do that computer shit down at the cops. I need access to addresses and shit. Even phone numbers and what not. I got somebody in the phone company can help me out I tell where to look. I gotta know whats going on. I gotta make some plans." He took out his gold cigarette case and lit up a Lucky Strike. He looked away at a bird walking along a ledge, "You owe me man."
"Did you talk to the old man. Is he still got his marbles. What does he say?"
"What does he say? What he always says. Blast em. Kill the fuckers. Each and every one. Down to the third generation. He says I have to do it now to set myself up. Otherwise they will take a run at me every fucking month till they get me. I don't know if he ain't right Bobby. I got to do something. And fast. I think that prick is just waiting for the old man to die. He's still shitting yellow at the thought of him. But don't help me in the long run."
I had to agree. But I didn't feature getting involved again in this shit. I had made my peace with it and got out of the line of fire. I couldn't let him pull me back in.
But I couldn't abandon him either. We went back too far. We knew too much. He was right. I did owe. Big time. Shit this sucks.
He was of medium height with very nondescript features. Didn't look anything like his old man. He was dressed to the nines as usual in a fancy suit with shoes that probably cost more than my car. He was one guinea looking bastard with olive skin and kinky curly hair that caused him a lot of grief when he wore it in the style of an Afro when were in high school. Of course now he had it styled in a razor cut like all the wise guys did these days. Ever since Gotti glammed it up they all tried to look like the second coming of Amard fucking Assante.
"Hey Mikey. Very dramatic meeting in the park like this. Why couldn't we meet at your mothers house. At the kitchen table."
"Bobby thanks for coming. Sit down, we need to talk."
I sat. "I heard about your dad. Sorry man."
"He's dying Bobby. Got maybe two weeks. And the fucking sharks are circling. You hear about that shemanutz Victor." That was the capo from Park Slope who was the acting street boss of the family. He was the Snakes right hand man while he was in the joint. A real piece of work. Everybody hated him. Everybody was afraid of him. So far the fear was winning out.
"No what's that got to do with anything."
"He's just waiting for the old man to go. Then he's coming after me. Big time. And the rest of the guys in the club. Benny. Short Leg Louie. Bobby Bells. Shit he might even wanna whack Louie Nerve for all I know. He hates 'em enough to do it. It's going to be some sick shit."
"Hey that sucks man, but what can I do about it. I mean really. You made a lot of enemies Mikey and instant karma shit is gonna rain down on you or whatever that stupid song sez, ya know."
"Yeah I know. I can't just sit here and let it happen. I have to make a move. And I need your help."
"My help. That ain't happening. Look I can get jammed up just talking to you. There ain't shit I can do for you so forget about it."
"You do that computer shit down at the cops. I need access to addresses and shit. Even phone numbers and what not. I got somebody in the phone company can help me out I tell where to look. I gotta know whats going on. I gotta make some plans." He took out his gold cigarette case and lit up a Lucky Strike. He looked away at a bird walking along a ledge, "You owe me man."
"Did you talk to the old man. Is he still got his marbles. What does he say?"
"What does he say? What he always says. Blast em. Kill the fuckers. Each and every one. Down to the third generation. He says I have to do it now to set myself up. Otherwise they will take a run at me every fucking month till they get me. I don't know if he ain't right Bobby. I got to do something. And fast. I think that prick is just waiting for the old man to die. He's still shitting yellow at the thought of him. But don't help me in the long run."
I had to agree. But I didn't feature getting involved again in this shit. I had made my peace with it and got out of the line of fire. I couldn't let him pull me back in.
But I couldn't abandon him either. We went back too far. We knew too much. He was right. I did owe. Big time. Shit this sucks.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Snippet 4
I am sitting there sipping my beer and I throw back the shot. The cool smokey flavor of the whiskey gave me that sweet burn that I loved so much. Too much really. Looking out the big front window who do I see struttin' down Court street but fucken' Louie Nerve. Jesus.
Louie went to Sacred Hearts with me and Mikey back in the day. He wasn't especially nervous. He just had the Tourettes and had to scream out curses every five seconds. Last I heard he was running errands for the old man in the social club. The sent him when they wanted to be subtle.
He opens the door and sreams at the top of his lungs "Bitch whore motherfucker."
Jed Camplet drops the glass he is polishing.
"Bobby fuckface, cocksucker, Mikey is waiting in park cunt licker." The Mexican cooks come out of the kitchen caring knives.
"Glad to see you keeping up you vocabulary there Louie. Where by Veranda."
"Pussy muffin eyeball cock. Yeah."
"Ok I be over there in a bit."
"Dick, asshole, fisting keyhole twat."
"Yeah Merry Christmas to you too." He turned and walked out. Even the cat was staring at him.
Louie went to Sacred Hearts with me and Mikey back in the day. He wasn't especially nervous. He just had the Tourettes and had to scream out curses every five seconds. Last I heard he was running errands for the old man in the social club. The sent him when they wanted to be subtle.
He opens the door and sreams at the top of his lungs "Bitch whore motherfucker."
Jed Camplet drops the glass he is polishing.
"Bobby fuckface, cocksucker, Mikey is waiting in park cunt licker." The Mexican cooks come out of the kitchen caring knives.
"Glad to see you keeping up you vocabulary there Louie. Where by Veranda."
"Pussy muffin eyeball cock. Yeah."
"Ok I be over there in a bit."
"Dick, asshole, fisting keyhole twat."
"Yeah Merry Christmas to you too." He turned and walked out. Even the cat was staring at him.
Snippet 3
As I leaned back in my chair I opened my leather jacket and adjusted my piece that I had in a shoulder harness. Fuckin’ Jethro saw it as he was bringing my drink and he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. I mean I look like a cop. A big fat white guy with the map of Ireland on his face and white donut crumbs on his shirt is usually a cop. But this dick was so lame he didn’t know what was going on.
He actually spilled some of the beer when he put it on the coaster.
He scurried off to the end of the bar and picked up the phone and whispered into it. About two minutes later this Arab looking dude came bursting out of the door from the basement and looked at me. And visibly relaxed. Then he actually slapped the kid on the head. Hard enough to knock off the hat. I guess they don’t have a human resources department in Damascus.
He oiled his way down the bar. Didn’t look like much. Wearing a too shiny shirt with a too shiny skin. Wasn’t much comfortable in either.
“Hello my friend…how are you…I am Wally and I own the restaurant. “
“Bobby Doyle, nice to meet you chief. You can relax, I‘m on the job.”
“I thought so but I felt I should ask. Guns make me nervous you know. Perhaps you meant to go next door to Brady’s. Most of the police prefer it there although I would like to get some of that business. I just don’t want any trouble.”
“No trouble just meeting a friend. Don’t sweat it Babu.”
“Wally.”
“Whatever, pally.”
“Thank you sir. Please to have the next one with us ok?”
“Thanks.”
He walked away back to end of the bar, whispered to the shit kicker and went back downstairs. Something was hinky here but I really didn’t give a shit. I just wanted to get this over with.
He actually spilled some of the beer when he put it on the coaster.
He scurried off to the end of the bar and picked up the phone and whispered into it. About two minutes later this Arab looking dude came bursting out of the door from the basement and looked at me. And visibly relaxed. Then he actually slapped the kid on the head. Hard enough to knock off the hat. I guess they don’t have a human resources department in Damascus.
He oiled his way down the bar. Didn’t look like much. Wearing a too shiny shirt with a too shiny skin. Wasn’t much comfortable in either.
“Hello my friend…how are you…I am Wally and I own the restaurant. “
“Bobby Doyle, nice to meet you chief. You can relax, I‘m on the job.”
“I thought so but I felt I should ask. Guns make me nervous you know. Perhaps you meant to go next door to Brady’s. Most of the police prefer it there although I would like to get some of that business. I just don’t want any trouble.”
“No trouble just meeting a friend. Don’t sweat it Babu.”
“Wally.”
“Whatever, pally.”
“Thank you sir. Please to have the next one with us ok?”
“Thanks.”
He walked away back to end of the bar, whispered to the shit kicker and went back downstairs. Something was hinky here but I really didn’t give a shit. I just wanted to get this over with.
Snippet 2
You see the old man Greg Scala was a shooter for the Snake ever since the Gallo wars when we coming up in the sixties. He had so many hits under his belt they freakin’ called him Elvis. He ran his own crew out of a social club on Lorraine St down in the Hook and everybody pretty much left him alone. The cops. The crooks. The corner Boys dealing crack out of the projects. Nobody wanted to fuck with the Weasel. Or his son for that matter. The only question was how much of it was Mikey and how much was it the weight his old man threw. I guess we were going to find out now. Because the old guy was gonna croak in the next few weeks. It was a miracle he lasted this long.
That’s why I agreed to meet up with Mikey in a public place. I hadn’t talked to him in a year or so. I already had a couple of beefs in my jacket from consorting with “known” criminals so I tried to lay low. But he told me he needed my help. And when your brother calls you for help, you come. No matter what.
So I met him in the Court St. Saloon that used to be Cousins back in the day on Amity. We used to hang there for years on end. Back before he got made. And I wasn’t on IAB radar. The place had changed owners. The guys who owned it were Italians but they sold out to some Syrians who owned a deli in the city that got demolished for a skyscraper. So they decided to go into the bar business. They didn’t have a clue.
The waiter was some hipster dofous wearing overalls and a john Deere cap. He had a soul patch, a bunch of tats and the skin of leper.
“Hey, howya doing” I said. “Mikey around.”
“Mikey Who? I don’t see anybody else here in the bar dude. What ya have?”
“Gimmie a Bass pint and a Jameson shot. And a menu.”
So I sat at turn of the bar where I could see out on Court St and keep my back up against the wall. I didn’t think anything was wrong, but it pays to be careful. That’s why I am still here. And a lot of other people ain’t.
That’s why I agreed to meet up with Mikey in a public place. I hadn’t talked to him in a year or so. I already had a couple of beefs in my jacket from consorting with “known” criminals so I tried to lay low. But he told me he needed my help. And when your brother calls you for help, you come. No matter what.
So I met him in the Court St. Saloon that used to be Cousins back in the day on Amity. We used to hang there for years on end. Back before he got made. And I wasn’t on IAB radar. The place had changed owners. The guys who owned it were Italians but they sold out to some Syrians who owned a deli in the city that got demolished for a skyscraper. So they decided to go into the bar business. They didn’t have a clue.
The waiter was some hipster dofous wearing overalls and a john Deere cap. He had a soul patch, a bunch of tats and the skin of leper.
“Hey, howya doing” I said. “Mikey around.”
“Mikey Who? I don’t see anybody else here in the bar dude. What ya have?”
“Gimmie a Bass pint and a Jameson shot. And a menu.”
So I sat at turn of the bar where I could see out on Court St and keep my back up against the wall. I didn’t think anything was wrong, but it pays to be careful. That’s why I am still here. And a lot of other people ain’t.
I am lost without good TV
A whole bunch of the shows I have been enjoying on TV have either ended their run or have put on hiatus. The Shield, Sons of Anarchy, Life on Mars and Entourage are all over for the season or at least until January.There isn't much of anything cool to watch late night on insomnia theatre. Last night we couldn't sleep because we were bloated from Thanksgiving and had to get up early to open the store for the sale. So we were forced to watch some old Homicide Life on the Street that we taped from the Sleuth channel. They were a little dated but fun none the less. I guess we will only watch old stuff.
First snippet?
My best friend is a killer.
Which is bad enough. But what's worse is that I am a fucking cop. A fat out of shape lazy cop who works with computers and sits on his ass but still a cop.
Where we grew up in Red Hook in the sixties you had a good chance to be one or the other. Or you moved to fucking Staten Island over the guinea gangplank and never looked back. We didn't though. We were what the moolies called original gangsters. Of course Mikey still was a gangster. And it looked like he was gonna get promoted. To capo. Hot shit.
Mikey Scala was coming up in the world. He had his button for quite a while but now his old man was on his last legs and he wanted to secure his place in the family. The old man was a holy terror and the most feared hitman on the East Coast for the last twenty years. Nobody fucked with the Weseal. He had the biggest balls in any borgota in the city, jesus in the fucking country. That's what made is so ironic that he was dying now. Of aids. What the fuck?
Which is bad enough. But what's worse is that I am a fucking cop. A fat out of shape lazy cop who works with computers and sits on his ass but still a cop.
Where we grew up in Red Hook in the sixties you had a good chance to be one or the other. Or you moved to fucking Staten Island over the guinea gangplank and never looked back. We didn't though. We were what the moolies called original gangsters. Of course Mikey still was a gangster. And it looked like he was gonna get promoted. To capo. Hot shit.
Mikey Scala was coming up in the world. He had his button for quite a while but now his old man was on his last legs and he wanted to secure his place in the family. The old man was a holy terror and the most feared hitman on the East Coast for the last twenty years. Nobody fucked with the Weseal. He had the biggest balls in any borgota in the city, jesus in the fucking country. That's what made is so ironic that he was dying now. Of aids. What the fuck?
Something funny is going to happen in 3 minutes.
So we are over my sister in laws for Thanksgiving and they have this overactive dog that runs all over the place. I think he a pug but he is very frisky. But he is a cute fat bastard. Anyway they gave him one of those leather bones to chew during the meal to occupy him. I had previously told the wife that I was so exhausted that when the meal was over, I was going to find a place on the couch and just doze for a hour or two while she played with the kids or whatever.
So I sit on the couch and my brother in law sits on his easy chair next to me. The dog runs up jumps on the couch, rubs up against me and drops the bone in my lap and starts chewing. I had to laugh as I am scratching him behind the ear and he is having a grand old time. Then he hears something in the other room and scoots off the couch to see what is going on.
In the meantime the wife comes in and sits next to me. I turn to my brother in law and say "Something funny is going to happen in 3 minutes." My wife goes 'What something funny on the TV."
Now my wife doesn't like animals and can't stand the feel of fur. Even on furs. Which is funny enough but she has to pretend that she likes the dog because she doesn't want to upset her niece and nephew. But she is a girly-girl who doesn't like her nice clothes messed up.
The dog comes bursting into the room, scoops up the bone, jumps on the couch next to my wife and drops the bone in her lap and rubs against her expensive Anna Scholtz top. She lets out a scream you could hear in New Jersey.
All I could say was "Hey I was wrong. It took four minutes."
So I sit on the couch and my brother in law sits on his easy chair next to me. The dog runs up jumps on the couch, rubs up against me and drops the bone in my lap and starts chewing. I had to laugh as I am scratching him behind the ear and he is having a grand old time. Then he hears something in the other room and scoots off the couch to see what is going on.
In the meantime the wife comes in and sits next to me. I turn to my brother in law and say "Something funny is going to happen in 3 minutes." My wife goes 'What something funny on the TV."
Now my wife doesn't like animals and can't stand the feel of fur. Even on furs. Which is funny enough but she has to pretend that she likes the dog because she doesn't want to upset her niece and nephew. But she is a girly-girl who doesn't like her nice clothes messed up.
The dog comes bursting into the room, scoops up the bone, jumps on the couch next to my wife and drops the bone in her lap and rubs against her expensive Anna Scholtz top. She lets out a scream you could hear in New Jersey.
All I could say was "Hey I was wrong. It took four minutes."
The Sale is going good.
The Black Friday sale is going pretty good. I have a full staff today so I can hide out in the office and post on the Internet all day. I just occasionally bring things from the back or come out if someone asks for me. Or if their are husbands who need to be entertained. We opened at 9am which was real tough because we are exhausted. We are open till 9pm so it is going to be a long haul. Lets sell, sell, sell.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
I just want to sleep all day on Thanksgiving.
We are going to Staten Island to my sister-in-laws for Thanksgiving when all we want to do is sleep the day away. We are having a big black Friday sale in the store where you buy one full price item and get another for the same or lower price at 50% off. I think that is a very fair sale and will be good for business. Plus we are doing an early bird extra 10% off. So we have to be there on Friday at 9am. Now I know I am the only one who will actually be there on time so it will prove to be very interesting. And we need our rest. So here's hoping we can cut out early on Thanksgiving Day and get some rest.
More bullshit from the block
So now the owner of the restaurant grabs me as I am walking by to wish me a happy Thanksgiving. I say the same and he starts giving me chapter and verse about the changes he wants to put in. Then he tells me his accountant is dropping him after the first of the year. Now I already told him I am dropping most of my tax clients to concentrate on the store so I don't know where he is going with this. I don't want anymore bar or restaurant clients because they are really more trouble than they are worth. So I hope he doesn't want me to do his books because I have to say no again.
Oh he tells me the new name he wants to use and I think it is pretty stupid. Thank God I didn't buy into this bag of shit.
Oh he tells me the new name he wants to use and I think it is pretty stupid. Thank God I didn't buy into this bag of shit.
Writing is tough stuff
It looks like Blake has abandoned his attempt at a barbarian sex novel with unicorns. Hey writing is tough enough without writing in a genre that you don't really care about. When you measure yourself against the masters of the form you have to realize that it takes a lot of talent to write something that doesn't make you look foolish.
Take Westerns for example. I love to read a good western but so many literary elitist types scoff and laugh at the genre. When a big time writer like Larry McMurty does it in Lonesome Dove he gets praised to the sky. But other excellent writers like Elmer Kelton and Elmore Leonard are masters of the form who get no respect.
I would love to write some alternative history, or noir style detective stories or westerns but I just fear that it will be too derivative to be much good. It would be easy to ape someones style and oh so hard to find your own voice.
But one of these days I am going to try.
Take Westerns for example. I love to read a good western but so many literary elitist types scoff and laugh at the genre. When a big time writer like Larry McMurty does it in Lonesome Dove he gets praised to the sky. But other excellent writers like Elmer Kelton and Elmore Leonard are masters of the form who get no respect.
I would love to write some alternative history, or noir style detective stories or westerns but I just fear that it will be too derivative to be much good. It would be easy to ape someones style and oh so hard to find your own voice.
But one of these days I am going to try.
I hate when people grovel
So I had a big beef going the past three months with the restaurant on the same block as the store. The owner wanted me to go in business with him as we would transform it from an old school Italian restaurant to a new bar bistro style that will bring in a lot of new people in the neighborhood. Now the building was for sale and I tried to see if I could maneuver one of my clients into buying the building which would net us a favorable lease. I was very interested in doing that because I always wanted to own a bar/restaurant and I have a lot of experience in this field. But the owners just wanted way too much money for the building and a deal was not to be found.
In the meantime I had my dinner after my big trunk show in September with all my big vendors. Now I went and greased everybody in the place from the waiters to the dishwasher and gave them all some money because we were keeping the restaurant open very late for them which is about midnight in real time. (No big deal right?) Anyway that night was a fiasco. The waiter and waitress sat at the table and stared at us with their heads in their hands and they refused to give us coffee at the end of the meal. Now first of all that is against the law but second of all I had a lot of people who were drinking and needed some coffee to straighten up ya know.
So we had a big beef.
That really opened my eyes. You see the owner was on vacation and the person I had the beef with was a close family member. But what it showed me was if I got involved in this I would have to fire everybody and it would all be on me to run the joint. I just couldn't take that on with the way the world is now, I have to concentrate on Lee Lee's.
Well the world crashed and the money wasn't there for a sale so the owner offered a lease. I had to tell him I wasn't interested any more because I couldn't deal with what was involved. I can't spend every day fighting with someone to do things the right way. Plus I was very pissed at the complaints I got from my vendors about that night. I spent a lot of money and got hosed. So I had no reason to go back at all. I have had events subsequently at other restaurants and it went as smooth as silk. Plus when we go out my check is now generally about $50 less a meal for basically the same food. So I haven't been in since September.
Anyway the waiter guy comes in Sunday drunk out of his face to appolgize to me and the wife. He goes "I love you guys...you were always very good to me...I appolgize..I was tired and I made a mistake...I don't care if you ever go back ....I just don't want you to hate me."
Well it was a long time since September but he finally came in like a man and appolgized and I accepted. I mean what are you gonna do. His boss was proably torturing him every night over the fact that we don't come in anymore. It was a big junk of his business as we ordered lunch a lot and ate there three or four times a week and had several events there a year. I figure that I spent between $8,000 and $10,000 there last year. Sounds like a lot right. Not really. It's about $192.30 a week. If anything it was more than $10,000. That he lost. For good.
But being the soft touch that I am, I plan to go in once a month or so. I will have a meal and treat the people with my own patented brand of genial contempt. I am saving a lot by eating in other joints and can stay out of the mix when they have problems which they were always bringing to me. Maybe it will take some pressure off the waiter guy. Maybe not. But that's about the best I can do.
I just hate to see people grovel. It's unseemly.
In the meantime I had my dinner after my big trunk show in September with all my big vendors. Now I went and greased everybody in the place from the waiters to the dishwasher and gave them all some money because we were keeping the restaurant open very late for them which is about midnight in real time. (No big deal right?) Anyway that night was a fiasco. The waiter and waitress sat at the table and stared at us with their heads in their hands and they refused to give us coffee at the end of the meal. Now first of all that is against the law but second of all I had a lot of people who were drinking and needed some coffee to straighten up ya know.
So we had a big beef.
That really opened my eyes. You see the owner was on vacation and the person I had the beef with was a close family member. But what it showed me was if I got involved in this I would have to fire everybody and it would all be on me to run the joint. I just couldn't take that on with the way the world is now, I have to concentrate on Lee Lee's.
Well the world crashed and the money wasn't there for a sale so the owner offered a lease. I had to tell him I wasn't interested any more because I couldn't deal with what was involved. I can't spend every day fighting with someone to do things the right way. Plus I was very pissed at the complaints I got from my vendors about that night. I spent a lot of money and got hosed. So I had no reason to go back at all. I have had events subsequently at other restaurants and it went as smooth as silk. Plus when we go out my check is now generally about $50 less a meal for basically the same food. So I haven't been in since September.
Anyway the waiter guy comes in Sunday drunk out of his face to appolgize to me and the wife. He goes "I love you guys...you were always very good to me...I appolgize..I was tired and I made a mistake...I don't care if you ever go back ....I just don't want you to hate me."
Well it was a long time since September but he finally came in like a man and appolgized and I accepted. I mean what are you gonna do. His boss was proably torturing him every night over the fact that we don't come in anymore. It was a big junk of his business as we ordered lunch a lot and ate there three or four times a week and had several events there a year. I figure that I spent between $8,000 and $10,000 there last year. Sounds like a lot right. Not really. It's about $192.30 a week. If anything it was more than $10,000. That he lost. For good.
But being the soft touch that I am, I plan to go in once a month or so. I will have a meal and treat the people with my own patented brand of genial contempt. I am saving a lot by eating in other joints and can stay out of the mix when they have problems which they were always bringing to me. Maybe it will take some pressure off the waiter guy. Maybe not. But that's about the best I can do.
I just hate to see people grovel. It's unseemly.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Season finale of the Shield tonight!
The 90 minute season finale and series finale of the Sheild is on tonight. It will be fun to measure it against the finale of the Sopranos which sucked moose cock. The reviews are all positive so that is a bad sign as most reviewers couldn't find their ass with both hands. But try and catch it as was a great series and should end on a bang up note.
I found the elf though
So Nelson who owns the bodega next door is busting my chops because they want me to be Santa. He's like "Hey that mean's you the fattest shop owner on Court St." So I go "Yeah well you are the smallest you fuckin' Dominican midget so you are going to be my elf."
Isn't their a song that goes like that?
Isn't their a song that goes like that?
I really hate Christmas
We had to start putting up the Christmas decorations Sunday night and it was a major league pain in the ass. I have these hooks hanging from the ceiling and we hang these giant Christmas balls in the window. Of course my wife had to make sure the balls hung just right.
Make your own jokes.
Make your own jokes.
Insomnia theatre has taken a turn for the worse.
Well insomnia theatre has taken a turn for the worse. We are really dead tired but it is hard for my wife to fall asleep. Strangely enough having the TV on helps her sleep. She says she was used to doing that when she was single and the murmuring of the television in the background is soothing. Now I sleep right through anything so I really don't care. But just to test the theory, I put the tv to ESPN and left it on all night. She slept like a baby. Of course when I woke up it was to Mike and Mike in the morning. So I had to puke.
But anything to help the wife sleep.
But anything to help the wife sleep.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
New name on the blog roll. With Mustard.
Hey I added a new blog on the blog roll, The Mets Police written by dedicated Mets fans about the team in Flushing. It is a very well written and informative blog about those poor souls who are stupid enough to root for those perennial losers who play under the flight path of Laguardia airport. I enjoyed his work very much and you should give it a chance.
The poor bastard. A Mets fan. Ouch.
The poor bastard. A Mets fan. Ouch.
I hate celebrities.
It seems that Lee Lee's Valise might be in the movies. The film for the "Shopaholic" books scouted us for a one day location shoot. But I don't know if I want to do it. It is ok money but no great shakes. Plus it will be very disruptive. And I hate celebrities and all that goes with it. They suck. They lie. They want to film on a Thursday which is the second busiest day of the week. I am against it unless they really make it worth my while.
And I will have to move my balls.
I will explain later.
And I will have to move my balls.
I will explain later.
The Mets Can't even get their names right.
New York Post (November 22, 2008)
The Mets better not get too attached to the name Citi Field.
Team officials are said to be increasingly nervous as struggling Citigroup's stock continues to plummet - and potentially endangers their $20 million-a-year naming-rights deal for the new $850 million stadium.
Mets rep Jay Horwitz yesterday insisted, "There is no change in regard to Citi's commitment to the new ballpark."
But David Howard, the team's vice president of business affairs and main spokesman on the deal, for the first time deflected all questions back to Citigroup.
And the future doesn't look good for the financial giant.
Citigroup's stock woes are making it ripe for a takeover, and Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, HSBC and State Street Bank are already being talked about as potential buyers or merger partners.
The onetime banking titan closed at $3.77 yesterday, down 89 percent in the past year.
Despite its failing stock, Citigroup insists it will honor its record-shattering agreement to pay $20 million a year for 20 years for the honor of calling the ballpark Citi Field, where signs have already been made touting the name.
"We remain committed to the relationship to the Mets. They are an important part of our marketing priorities," said Citigroup spokesman Steve Silverman.
But if Citigroup is bought out, at least the stadium name would presumably change. Still, mega-bucks would in all likelihood be shelled out by the new company for the naming rights because of the prestige and recognition that such a high-profile stadium will bring, experts said.
Think "Goldman Sachs Diamond," "Morgan Stanley Stadium" or "HSBC Field."
Wow, if Citibank is in trouble we know it is a big deal. But you have to know that if you get invovled with the Mets you are tainted with their loserdom. What a mess.
The Mets better not get too attached to the name Citi Field.
Team officials are said to be increasingly nervous as struggling Citigroup's stock continues to plummet - and potentially endangers their $20 million-a-year naming-rights deal for the new $850 million stadium.
Mets rep Jay Horwitz yesterday insisted, "There is no change in regard to Citi's commitment to the new ballpark."
But David Howard, the team's vice president of business affairs and main spokesman on the deal, for the first time deflected all questions back to Citigroup.
And the future doesn't look good for the financial giant.
Citigroup's stock woes are making it ripe for a takeover, and Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, HSBC and State Street Bank are already being talked about as potential buyers or merger partners.
The onetime banking titan closed at $3.77 yesterday, down 89 percent in the past year.
Despite its failing stock, Citigroup insists it will honor its record-shattering agreement to pay $20 million a year for 20 years for the honor of calling the ballpark Citi Field, where signs have already been made touting the name.
"We remain committed to the relationship to the Mets. They are an important part of our marketing priorities," said Citigroup spokesman Steve Silverman.
But if Citigroup is bought out, at least the stadium name would presumably change. Still, mega-bucks would in all likelihood be shelled out by the new company for the naming rights because of the prestige and recognition that such a high-profile stadium will bring, experts said.
Think "Goldman Sachs Diamond," "Morgan Stanley Stadium" or "HSBC Field."
Wow, if Citibank is in trouble we know it is a big deal. But you have to know that if you get invovled with the Mets you are tainted with their loserdom. What a mess.
Sarah Palin has a plan for Massachusetts
Weird but True (November 22, 2008) New York Post
Police in Massachusetts are scratching their heads after repeatedly finding chunks of butcher-quality meat lying around a city square.
Framingham police Lt. Paul Shastany says it's possible someone may be trying to poison animals, so they have sent the meat in for testing.
"I've heard of people dropping off mystery messages and all kinds of weird stuff, but I've never heard of dropping off meat," said Framingham State student Julie Reed.
Police in Massachusetts are scratching their heads after repeatedly finding chunks of butcher-quality meat lying around a city square.
Framingham police Lt. Paul Shastany says it's possible someone may be trying to poison animals, so they have sent the meat in for testing.
"I've heard of people dropping off mystery messages and all kinds of weird stuff, but I've never heard of dropping off meat," said Framingham State student Julie Reed.
JFK anniversary.
This is an important anniversary in the life of JFK.
Twenty years ago today, was the first day that Joe Fucking Kleine got into a game as player for the Boston Celtics.
I hate the Celtics.
Twenty years ago today, was the first day that Joe Fucking Kleine got into a game as player for the Boston Celtics.
I hate the Celtics.
The Knicks must be living their Life on Mars.
The funny thing about the show Life on Mars is that Sam Tyler is supposed to go back in time to 1973. In it he is a big Knicks fan and he meets his dad and they were shooting hoops in the back yard with him and his dad being the same age. The smile on his face was something to see. But the funny thing is that 1973 was the last time the Knicks won a championship. Let me repeat that.
1973 WAS THE LAST TIME THE KNICKS WON A CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!!!
Now I have suffered through Hubie Brown, Al Bianchi, Rick Pitino, Bob Hill, John MacLeod Scotty Sterling, Dave Checketts, Ernie Grunfield, Pat Riley,Donn Nelson, Scott Layden, Jeff Van Gundy, Isiah Thomas, Don Chaney, Lennie Wilkens, and on and on and on.
Now the new wop coach drafted his old roommates son who has a bad back and can't fucking play. This douche bag is 20 years old and he has a bad back like your fucking grandfather. And they decided to trade their two best player for crap. Al Harrington and Cuttino Molbey. Why didn't they just trade for motherfucking Moms Mobley. I know that they want to get under the salary cap in two years for Lebron James but there is no guarantee that he will come to New York. Lots of players can't handle New York and I think he is one of them. It is going to be a long long season.
1973 WAS THE LAST TIME THE KNICKS WON A CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!!!
Now I have suffered through Hubie Brown, Al Bianchi, Rick Pitino, Bob Hill, John MacLeod Scotty Sterling, Dave Checketts, Ernie Grunfield, Pat Riley,Donn Nelson, Scott Layden, Jeff Van Gundy, Isiah Thomas, Don Chaney, Lennie Wilkens, and on and on and on.
Now the new wop coach drafted his old roommates son who has a bad back and can't fucking play. This douche bag is 20 years old and he has a bad back like your fucking grandfather. And they decided to trade their two best player for crap. Al Harrington and Cuttino Molbey. Why didn't they just trade for motherfucking Moms Mobley. I know that they want to get under the salary cap in two years for Lebron James but there is no guarantee that he will come to New York. Lots of players can't handle New York and I think he is one of them. It is going to be a long long season.
If you say you don't ever watch TV you are a lying sack of shit.
So many pretentious pompous asses say they don't watch television you just have to shake your head and laugh. I mean they tell you that they like to read or listen to public radio or some other bull shit but when the discussion is about some TV show they always have something to add. They might couch it terms like "Well I caught a little of it once" or "I was at someones house when it was on" or some other bullshit like that but they entirely too much about it for that to be true. Just admit it douche bags. You watch TV like the rest of us low life Joe Sixpack Walmart shoppers. You ain't Allister Cooke.
Unless they installed some his body parts when they stripped him for parts.
Oh, the only exception is of course RH Hardin. I believe him when he says he doesn't have a TV.
He is way to busy with his dobermans and his chickens.
RH Hardin freaks me out.
Unless they installed some his body parts when they stripped him for parts.
Oh, the only exception is of course RH Hardin. I believe him when he says he doesn't have a TV.
He is way to busy with his dobermans and his chickens.
RH Hardin freaks me out.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Carpet munching?
I had a friend of mine come over to stretch my carpet which started to have a bunch of bumps in the middle of the floor. We are hosting Christmas this year so we are trying to spruce up the apartment which is a lot of work. So when he stretched the carpet he cut off about five or six inches of exta carpet that the original idiots put in when they installed it. They were from Lowes and they sucked. Now I just have to have it cleaned just in time for all the kids to spill a full plate of ravioli on it. Happy Holidays.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Happy Memorial Day!!!!
I hate freakin Christmas. I mean I love the little baby Jesus but I hate the hoopla surrounding the holiday. Gift giving in particular. I always gave great gifts like DVD players and great clothes and cases of wine. I always got back socks and underwear.
Socks and underwear!
I love Memorial Day. That is the best fucking holiday by a mile. Beginning of summer. The tax season is over. Warm nights. Longer Days. Barbecues. Baseball. The summer is here.
You can take your reindeer games and stuff them up your ass.
Socks and underwear!
I love Memorial Day. That is the best fucking holiday by a mile. Beginning of summer. The tax season is over. Warm nights. Longer Days. Barbecues. Baseball. The summer is here.
You can take your reindeer games and stuff them up your ass.
Turkey Daze?
The first officially sanctioned thanksgiving was proclaimed by President Lincoln during the depths of the civil war for the final Thursday in November 1963. The tradition of pardoning the White House Turkey was also initiated by President Lincoln during the next year’s celebration. It seems that the turkey that year resembled Joshua Speed who was President Lincoln’s long term companion during his years as circuit riding lawyer. Speed an art teacher and perfume developer often shared young Mr. Lincoln’s bed as they traveled the back roads of Illinois where Lincoln would try cases and Speed would try to peddle his nostrums while entertaining the depressed Mr. Lincoln with his rants against the poor quality of art and wine to be found in those roadside taverns. The chubby thighs and endearing wattle so much resembled the rotund raconteur that President Lincoln freed the pouty lipped poultry in the name of his good friend. (Pardon Me? The History of Presidential Pardons, Doris Kearns Goodwin Simon & Schuster 2007)
The tradition of pardoning the White House turkey did not become an automatic ritual as many of Presidents did not have a sentimental attachment to their meat. However some of them were more kind hearted than others. US Grant who led the Union army in some of the most sanguinary battles in the history of the United States actually hated the sight of blood or the infliction of pain. So the night before Thanksgiving, Sam Grant sat up all night getting drunk with the turkey so it wouldn’t feel anything when the fateful moment arrived. The ingestion of bourbon by the doomed fowl left its meat with a delicious taste that became all the rage in sophisticated circles after it was introduced on the menu in Delmonico’s restaurant later that same year.(Pardon Me? The History of Presidential Pardons, Doris Kearns Goodwin Simon & Schuster 2007)
The most ineffectual attempt at pardoning the White House turkey occurred during the administration of Jimmy Carter. Even though he famously termed himself a “peanut farmer”, President Carter could not face up to the realities of life on a working farm. So he went to the turkey pen where all the turkeys were held to ask them to pray with him. Although he could only pardon one of them he felt the rest could go to their fate with the solace of prayer to speed them along in their journey. Unfortunately when he entered the turkey pen the birds saw their chance and surrounded the fearful commander in chief and pecked and terrorized him. President Carter did not know what to do. The irate turkeys held the embattled chief executive hostage for 444 hours until the end of the holidaySeason and the change in administrations in January. Then President Elect Ronald Reagan had them all made into turkey burgers.(Pardon Me? The History of Presidential Pardons, Doris Kearns Goodwin Simon & Schuster 2007)
The tradition of pardoning the White House turkey did not become an automatic ritual as many of Presidents did not have a sentimental attachment to their meat. However some of them were more kind hearted than others. US Grant who led the Union army in some of the most sanguinary battles in the history of the United States actually hated the sight of blood or the infliction of pain. So the night before Thanksgiving, Sam Grant sat up all night getting drunk with the turkey so it wouldn’t feel anything when the fateful moment arrived. The ingestion of bourbon by the doomed fowl left its meat with a delicious taste that became all the rage in sophisticated circles after it was introduced on the menu in Delmonico’s restaurant later that same year.(Pardon Me? The History of Presidential Pardons, Doris Kearns Goodwin Simon & Schuster 2007)
The most ineffectual attempt at pardoning the White House turkey occurred during the administration of Jimmy Carter. Even though he famously termed himself a “peanut farmer”, President Carter could not face up to the realities of life on a working farm. So he went to the turkey pen where all the turkeys were held to ask them to pray with him. Although he could only pardon one of them he felt the rest could go to their fate with the solace of prayer to speed them along in their journey. Unfortunately when he entered the turkey pen the birds saw their chance and surrounded the fearful commander in chief and pecked and terrorized him. President Carter did not know what to do. The irate turkeys held the embattled chief executive hostage for 444 hours until the end of the holidaySeason and the change in administrations in January. Then President Elect Ronald Reagan had them all made into turkey burgers.(Pardon Me? The History of Presidential Pardons, Doris Kearns Goodwin Simon & Schuster 2007)
Bad Santa?
Here is one the worst idea's I have heard in a long time. The Court St Merchants want me to play Santa Claus in the tree lighting ceremony in Carroll Park. A stupider idea I have never ever heard. I mean first of all I really hate kids. Especially yuppie brat kids. Snot nosed whiny crying yuppie kids.
"You want to cry...you really want to cry...I'll give you something to cry about you little bastard."
"Allright you little bastard, what do you want for Christmas? How about a slap."
"Ho Ho Ho. Why don't you fucking ho's go buy something in my store before I have to get up...and ...and.."
So now I have to grow a three day stubble and get a pint bottle of Four Roses Whiskey to have in my pocket just like the Santa used to do in A&S on Fulton St when I was a kid.
They want a bad Santa, I'll give em a fuckin bad Santa.
"You want to cry...you really want to cry...I'll give you something to cry about you little bastard."
"Allright you little bastard, what do you want for Christmas? How about a slap."
"Ho Ho Ho. Why don't you fucking ho's go buy something in my store before I have to get up...and ...and.."
So now I have to grow a three day stubble and get a pint bottle of Four Roses Whiskey to have in my pocket just like the Santa used to do in A&S on Fulton St when I was a kid.
They want a bad Santa, I'll give em a fuckin bad Santa.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Belly Buttons Part Six
The most bizarre tale of presidential belly buttons was that of William Jefferson Clinton. President Clinton had a severe problem with his belly button. It seems that when he was born he was actually had a twin who was conjoined with him in a complicated jumble of internal organs. The doctors knew that his twin brother Jesse could not survive so they decided to save the young Billy Blythe. Unfortunately medical science was somewhat primitive in
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris
Belly Buttons Part five
One of the most interesting tales about presidential belly buttons revolves around the strange case of Richard Milhous Nixon. President Nixon was born in
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris
Belly Buttons part four
The strangest story about presidential belly buttons was that of President James Buchanan. One of the shortest of our chief executives it was discovered at his death that every opening or orifice on his body had been stretched or opened to an unusual degree. His nostrils, ear holes and belly button were stretched and almost disfigured and distended. While no know medical condition could have caused this strange disfigurement it was given the medical name of titusitis for reasons that are unexplained to this very day.
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press)
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press)
Belly Buttons part three
One of the most intriguing rumors about the presidential belly button is that President John Fitzgerald Kennedy had an outie that would become erect when he became sexually aroused. True to his Irish heritage, the erect outie was in fact longer and thicker than his penis as he suffered from the curse of the Irish. Angie Dickinson who was one of JFK’s most famous conquests once said that making love to the president was “The most exciting twenty seconds of my life.” But it is the rest of the quote that gives it context when she said “When he was done I climbed on his stomach and he stuck his belly button in me and it was heaven. He was one freaky limp dick mick.”
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press)
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press)
Belly Buttons part two
As the most athletic of all America Presidents, Theodore Roosevelt had the most muscular belly button of all the Presidents of the United States. A sickly and asthmatic child, the young Theodore Roosevelt was a fanatical devotee of exercise to the point that he devoted part of his workout to strengthening the muscles of his belly button. He had an “outie” in which he did curls with a pencil fitted with two tiny weights. His belly button was in fact so strong that he once tied off his lariat on his erect belly button while roping a calf in a rodeo when his saddle horn broke in mid contest. It was quite an impressive feat.
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press)
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press)
Belly Buttons part one
It has long been a matter of dispute among presidential historians as to who had the biggest belly button. The natural choice would of course have been William Howard Taft who because of his immense girth would have the largest of all presidential stomachs and thus the biggest belly button. It was in fact immense and his children would often climb inside it like a kangaroo baby when he was in the bath. The future senator Robert Taft often spoke of those days when he would take a bath with his father and look out the rest of the world. He felt safe and protected in way that he could never feel for the rest of his life. In fact many historians feel that feeling of anxiety led to Senator Taft embracing the America First movement and isolationism which led to America ignoring the rise of the Nazi’s in Europe. In fact some go so far as to say that the rise of Hitler was really due to President William Howard Taft’s belly button.
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
She’s A Maniac, Yes A Maniac it’s True.
Well we had a tough one for insomnia theatre last night. I was running down the dial and we come upon VHI which had Flashdance on and the wife wanted to watch it. It had been a long time since I had seen it so we left it on. Leg warmers, ripped sweatshirts hanging off one shoulder, impossibly skinny dancers bouncing off the walls.
The problem with watching an old movie is always your frame of reference. Now if you watching a drawing room comedy from the thirties or even a screwball comedy it seems cool. But when it is a movie set in the time you were actually around you have a whole different perspective.
Some of the jarring moments revolved around smoking again. The guys in the factory were all smoking will they were welding and stuff. That can’t be right. And in the big scene at the end of the movie where she is being evaluated by the committed of hoity toity dance people, one of the women on the board is smoking a cigarette and a guy is smoking a cigar. I mean really what a difference in our world eh?
The other really weird thing is the whole premise of the dance/strip club. I mean she dances in a bikini and all these guys are there getting drunk and clapping. What the fuck? I spent a lot of times in strip clubs in the eighties and it was nothing like that at all. If they didn’t get naked within about a minute of hitting the stage they would start throwing chairs. I remember when the internet first came out a friend of mine was a big computer expert. So we started a company and pitched a porno web site to this new strip club called Flashdancers who stole their name from the movie. My buddy did a lot of work and it was going good until we hit a sticking point. We were going to charge for readers to see naked pictures of the dancers but we got in a big beef as to the split between the club and the web masters. Words were exchanged. Scary words. So we went out of the internet porn business right quick. So seeing girls dancing in bikini’s in a movie called Flashdancers made me chuckle.
Just not fall asleep.
The problem with watching an old movie is always your frame of reference. Now if you watching a drawing room comedy from the thirties or even a screwball comedy it seems cool. But when it is a movie set in the time you were actually around you have a whole different perspective.
Some of the jarring moments revolved around smoking again. The guys in the factory were all smoking will they were welding and stuff. That can’t be right. And in the big scene at the end of the movie where she is being evaluated by the committed of hoity toity dance people, one of the women on the board is smoking a cigarette and a guy is smoking a cigar. I mean really what a difference in our world eh?
The other really weird thing is the whole premise of the dance/strip club. I mean she dances in a bikini and all these guys are there getting drunk and clapping. What the fuck? I spent a lot of times in strip clubs in the eighties and it was nothing like that at all. If they didn’t get naked within about a minute of hitting the stage they would start throwing chairs. I remember when the internet first came out a friend of mine was a big computer expert. So we started a company and pitched a porno web site to this new strip club called Flashdancers who stole their name from the movie. My buddy did a lot of work and it was going good until we hit a sticking point. We were going to charge for readers to see naked pictures of the dancers but we got in a big beef as to the split between the club and the web masters. Words were exchanged. Scary words. So we went out of the internet porn business right quick. So seeing girls dancing in bikini’s in a movie called Flashdancers made me chuckle.
Just not fall asleep.
This is for you Meade, all of Al's qoutes in one spot
The Wit and Wisdom of Al Swearengen:
On the controversy of the Rev. Jesse Jackson saying he wanted to cut off Barack Obama’s balls:
Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.
Has he not yet reached the age, where you’re moved to utterance of thoughts properly kept silent? Habitual fuckin’ vocalizing of thoughts best kept to yourself. I will confide further. Lately…I talk to this package; the severed rotting head I paid bounty on last year of that murdered fuckin’ Indian. Perhaps the reverand might acquire a similar accessory. To aid in his prospects and to avoid future embarassments.
Perhaps he can acquire the beet red head of that former President. He hasn't made use of it in quite some time.Well, the big head anyways.
No off premises fucking. Either you pay or she pays. Five dollars. Seven for ass fucking.
Can we still use San Fransico cock sucker?As a location of origin but not as an avocation chief.Even the decaptitated like to have their heads rubbed now and again.
In life you have to do a lot of things you don't fucking want to do. Many times, that's what the fuck life is.. one vile fucking task after another. But don't get aggravated.... then the enemy has you by the short-hairs.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing; backing a loser. Let him pick me up from the canvas after, dust me the fuck off. I raise the great man’s hand and murmur, best as I can through split lips, “Your man beat my man’s balls off, sir." The race does not always go to swift and the fight does not always go to the mighty. Sometimes a hooplehead can get lucky. Through mere happenstance.
On the topic of race hustlers:
I used to have a race hustler in my employ who encouraged the hoopleheads to bet the favorite in a race when I had a ringer who looked like an old tired nag but was fleet of foot. Of course I can't tell you his moniker as it is out of fashion, hence I had to demote him to African American corporal.
I have had occasion to use race rustlers where I send the whores to tempt the hoopleheads to games of chance that are outside of their realm of experiance. To rustle them away from their commonplaces so to speak.It's how I won the laundry from Wu. I had the whores tempt them into betting on the dog races. So they were interested in the speed of the dog. Not the taste.
It has been my considered experience with Wu and assorted chinamen... that you can dig all you want and not reach china...but if you swing a dead cat...you might get an appetizer.
The legs you hear rubbing together are not crickets. Its the hoopleheads rubbing their pates and their grimy legs as they contemplate matters beyond their keen. That why I only like to converse with the severed head of a heathen savage. Less complicated that way. Even the decapitated are entitled to some amiable discourse of an evening.
On the controversy of the Rev. Jesse Jackson saying he wanted to cut off Barack Obama’s balls:
Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.
Has he not yet reached the age, where you’re moved to utterance of thoughts properly kept silent? Habitual fuckin’ vocalizing of thoughts best kept to yourself. I will confide further. Lately…I talk to this package; the severed rotting head I paid bounty on last year of that murdered fuckin’ Indian. Perhaps the reverand might acquire a similar accessory. To aid in his prospects and to avoid future embarassments.
Perhaps he can acquire the beet red head of that former President. He hasn't made use of it in quite some time.Well, the big head anyways.
No off premises fucking. Either you pay or she pays. Five dollars. Seven for ass fucking.
Can we still use San Fransico cock sucker?As a location of origin but not as an avocation chief.Even the decaptitated like to have their heads rubbed now and again.
In life you have to do a lot of things you don't fucking want to do. Many times, that's what the fuck life is.. one vile fucking task after another. But don't get aggravated.... then the enemy has you by the short-hairs.
It wouldn’t be the worst thing; backing a loser. Let him pick me up from the canvas after, dust me the fuck off. I raise the great man’s hand and murmur, best as I can through split lips, “Your man beat my man’s balls off, sir." The race does not always go to swift and the fight does not always go to the mighty. Sometimes a hooplehead can get lucky. Through mere happenstance.
On the topic of race hustlers:
I used to have a race hustler in my employ who encouraged the hoopleheads to bet the favorite in a race when I had a ringer who looked like an old tired nag but was fleet of foot. Of course I can't tell you his moniker as it is out of fashion, hence I had to demote him to African American corporal.
I have had occasion to use race rustlers where I send the whores to tempt the hoopleheads to games of chance that are outside of their realm of experiance. To rustle them away from their commonplaces so to speak.It's how I won the laundry from Wu. I had the whores tempt them into betting on the dog races. So they were interested in the speed of the dog. Not the taste.
It has been my considered experience with Wu and assorted chinamen... that you can dig all you want and not reach china...but if you swing a dead cat...you might get an appetizer.
The legs you hear rubbing together are not crickets. Its the hoopleheads rubbing their pates and their grimy legs as they contemplate matters beyond their keen. That why I only like to converse with the severed head of a heathen savage. Less complicated that way. Even the decapitated are entitled to some amiable discourse of an evening.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Let's go to the video tape.
Well last night we had a bunch of comedies taped so we could watch them when we couldn't fall asleep again. This one stupid show called Worst Week Ever is pretty funny. It's all about this yuppie guy who is a klutz and always gets into scrapes and breaks stuff. It's a copy from a British show and is kinda goofy and fun. Mindless entertainment is best to help you sleep.
Of course two bottles of wine helps too.
Of course two bottles of wine helps too.
Hey Lady let me take a Picture!!
We did a photo shoot in the store today for the website. It takes a lot to run a website.You have to photograph the items so that you can feature the clothes and not the model. Now we only use my wife and customers as models because we want you to see what it looks like with regular people wearing it instead of the perfect hour glass model. Then you have to post it on the website, put in the prices and the sizes. put it in the shopping cart and that stuff. It's a real pain in the ass.
So look for some new stuff , especially the Purple Coat that was featured in this months Essence magazine.
So look for some new stuff , especially the Purple Coat that was featured in this months Essence magazine.
Monday, November 17, 2008
I hate it when there are too many character actors in a movie because I never get to sleep.
With the craptastic double feature there were a ton of actors that my wife kind of recognized but wanted to know where she knew them from especially since they are about 50 years younger in the movie. For example in Airport 75 you had a row that had Jerry Seinfeld's father, Mindy's father from Mork & Mindy and Mr Roper all sitting next to each other. Plus George Kennedy from Cool Hand Luke who was in both movies. Every time a new character actor showed up she would poke me in the ribs and say "isn't that the guy in such and such." Yeah that's Lloyd Nolan who was Julia's boss the doctor. Can I go to sleep now please?
Soul Saturdays
I need to do some stuff to generate sales so I have to come up with some promotions. When we were out in the bar last week we heard this DJ who was playing a lot of early seventies soul music. Just like you would here on Life on Mars or in the American Gangster movie thats on HBO now. So I think I am going to have him come in and spin in the store on Saturdays from 4 to 7 to establish a Soul Saturday party atmosphere. I just don't know if that is going to take away from the selling part of the day. I might start it after the holidays. I still have to think about it.
Airport 2008
In search of a way to cure our insomnia last night we watched a double feature of Airport and Airport 1975 last night. It was craptastic.
Airport stars Burt Lancaster and Dean Martin and Helen Hayes and Jean freakin' Seberg before she became a communist. With a incredibly young Jacqueline Bisset as the sexy stewardess who Dino knocks up. Van Heflin brings a bomb on the plane to blow it up so his wife Maureen Stapleton can get the insurance. They find out about it and Dean tries to stop him but he goes in the bathroom and blows himself up. But the plot is meaningless when you see all the other stuff going on. First Van Heflin is chain smoking in his seat. Helen Hayes plays a woman who is a stowaway who sneaks on to flights that she doesn't have a ticket. How do you think either of those things will work out today? There were nuns wearing a full habit and soldiers on the way back to Vietnam. It was far out and out-a-site man!
Then there was Airport 1975 with Charlton Heston and George Kennedy and Karen Black with the damaged plane that they have to lower Chuck into the cockpit from a helicopter. The low rent special effects are hilarious. But the best part was the clothes. We were watching it in disbelief. I mean the clothes! Jeeez.
So to sum it up, there were three things you will never see again on an airplane in these movies. A man chain smoking like a fiend. A stowaway who gets on the plane without a ticket. And Charlton Heston's bright yellow turtleneck.
I think that was why we couldn't fall asleep.
Airport stars Burt Lancaster and Dean Martin and Helen Hayes and Jean freakin' Seberg before she became a communist. With a incredibly young Jacqueline Bisset as the sexy stewardess who Dino knocks up. Van Heflin brings a bomb on the plane to blow it up so his wife Maureen Stapleton can get the insurance. They find out about it and Dean tries to stop him but he goes in the bathroom and blows himself up. But the plot is meaningless when you see all the other stuff going on. First Van Heflin is chain smoking in his seat. Helen Hayes plays a woman who is a stowaway who sneaks on to flights that she doesn't have a ticket. How do you think either of those things will work out today? There were nuns wearing a full habit and soldiers on the way back to Vietnam. It was far out and out-a-site man!
Then there was Airport 1975 with Charlton Heston and George Kennedy and Karen Black with the damaged plane that they have to lower Chuck into the cockpit from a helicopter. The low rent special effects are hilarious. But the best part was the clothes. We were watching it in disbelief. I mean the clothes! Jeeez.
So to sum it up, there were three things you will never see again on an airplane in these movies. A man chain smoking like a fiend. A stowaway who gets on the plane without a ticket. And Charlton Heston's bright yellow turtleneck.
I think that was why we couldn't fall asleep.
Why do I feel like Marlin Perkins?
Well I have been busy tagging all my old posts so you can follow my descent into madness. It is a pain in the ass to come up with categories but I did my best. I am sure I will come up with new ones to add as well.
One question is should I add a tag for commenter's in each post. I won't do that for every time you comment, just when it is on the point.
Oh and I won't give Blake a tag as he comments on almost every thread as I do on his blog. We have entirely too much time on our hands. I mean he is on the treadmill, but I don't have an excuse. So consider every post to have the tag "Blake."
One question is should I add a tag for commenter's in each post. I won't do that for every time you comment, just when it is on the point.
Oh and I won't give Blake a tag as he comments on almost every thread as I do on his blog. We have entirely too much time on our hands. I mean he is on the treadmill, but I don't have an excuse. So consider every post to have the tag "Blake."
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Thanks to Ron the Fluffy Guy
Thanks to Ron the Fluffy Guy who gave me the tip on how to add labels on my posts so you can trace my increasing dementia.
Odin is pretty pissed.
Because the WORLD CHAMPION NEW YORK GIANTS stomped on the Ravens by a score of 30-10.
We just rolled over the best run defense in the league and Jacobs run roughshod over them. Plus Aaron Lewis returned one of his two interceptions for a touchdown. Jeez with Jacobs and Aaron kicking ass it sounds like they suited up the members of ricpic's minyan. Oy.
Did I tell you lately that the Giants won the Super Bowl?
We just rolled over the best run defense in the league and Jacobs run roughshod over them. Plus Aaron Lewis returned one of his two interceptions for a touchdown. Jeez with Jacobs and Aaron kicking ass it sounds like they suited up the members of ricpic's minyan. Oy.
Did I tell you lately that the Giants won the Super Bowl?
Tip your waiters and waitresses.
I added a few new people to the blog role as I figured out how to add them. Please check out their blogs and drop a comment. People love feedback and they love to know that people are reading what they are posting on the internet. So give them a try.
In which I almost hang myself.
So last night we get out of the store early and I am able to cook us an early dinner. There wasn't anything good on TV and we had watched all of the recorded stuff so we decided to watch a pay per view. Now I wanted to see Iron Man but my wife wanted to watch the dreaded "Sex in the City." She had worked really hard and I wanted her to relax so I said sure. I could read while we were watching it so I wouldn't be too bored. Well let me tell you it was kinda interesting.
No I haven't see someone look as grotesque as Sarah Jessica Parker since Cher had that fucked up kid in the biker movie. I mean I know she wanted to look haggard and upset after she got jilted but man she looked that way throughout the movie. That is one skinny ugly cunt.
The other bitches were their normally bitchy asshole personalities especially the whore from Porky's who dumps the dude who stood by her when she had cancer. And the bartender guy wanted to stay married to the redheaded lesbian? Please. The best thing he could do is dump her and get a normal woman and bring up his kid with her instead of that yuppie phony bitch.
The wife also thought it sucked but at least we scratched it off the list.
Oh and Jennifer Hudson, you should get your ass to Lee Lee's Valise if you want to know how to dress. Don't send your stylist either.
No I haven't see someone look as grotesque as Sarah Jessica Parker since Cher had that fucked up kid in the biker movie. I mean I know she wanted to look haggard and upset after she got jilted but man she looked that way throughout the movie. That is one skinny ugly cunt.
The other bitches were their normally bitchy asshole personalities especially the whore from Porky's who dumps the dude who stood by her when she had cancer. And the bartender guy wanted to stay married to the redheaded lesbian? Please. The best thing he could do is dump her and get a normal woman and bring up his kid with her instead of that yuppie phony bitch.
The wife also thought it sucked but at least we scratched it off the list.
Oh and Jennifer Hudson, you should get your ass to Lee Lee's Valise if you want to know how to dress. Don't send your stylist either.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Talking to Mets fans just makes me sad.
So I am in the bank yesterday making a wire transfer and the eager puppy bank guy wants to talk about the Yankees and the free agent market. Now the manager of the branch really is humorless and doesn't really know what he is doing so I try not to deal with him too much. The assistant manager is the one who knows what is going on. I had her come into the store and hooked her up with some sunglasses and a scarf as she is a size six so she doesn't fit into anything. When ever you are in a situation where you need something done you should always find out the person who knows what they are doing and bribe or tip them heavily. You know not the pretty waitress but the one who actually does the work. It might even be the food runner who can push your order through first. Or the guy who slices the meat at the deli counter instead of the owner of the shop. You know the important guy. But anyway the manager guy decides to jump into the conversation. And he is a big time Mets fan.
So we are talking and he's trying to tell me that the Mets are going to sign CC Sabathia over the Yankees. I just laughed in his face. I said dude "The Mets will never out spend the Yankees. The only reason they got Beltran and Santana is because the Yankees turned them down. Get Real." He got all huffy and pompous but all the other dudes who worked in the bank almost pissed their pants. I just hate talking to Mets fans.They have an incredably skewed view of their place in the ecosystem.
They think they are lions when they are really jackals. You can respect a Red Sox fan because lately since they have copied the Yankees and started spending money they have been winning. But the Mets. Please Louise. Give me a break.
I just have to make sure I only deal with the assistant manager. I don't want the manager to make any "mistakes."
So we are talking and he's trying to tell me that the Mets are going to sign CC Sabathia over the Yankees. I just laughed in his face. I said dude "The Mets will never out spend the Yankees. The only reason they got Beltran and Santana is because the Yankees turned them down. Get Real." He got all huffy and pompous but all the other dudes who worked in the bank almost pissed their pants. I just hate talking to Mets fans.They have an incredably skewed view of their place in the ecosystem.
They think they are lions when they are really jackals. You can respect a Red Sox fan because lately since they have copied the Yankees and started spending money they have been winning. But the Mets. Please Louise. Give me a break.
I just have to make sure I only deal with the assistant manager. I don't want the manager to make any "mistakes."
Replay of the Super Bowl
THE WORLD CHAMPION NEW YORK GIANTS are playing the Baltimore Ravens in a reprise of the last Super Bowl we were in under Jim Fassel. Then the Ravens bitch slapped us and we slunk out of there with our tails between our legs. But it will be a different story tomorrow. They have a rookie quarter back so our defense will have to rattle him early. Also the Ravens have a great run defense so we might go to the air game quickly right out of the box. It should be a low scoring game and turnovers might have a lot to do with it. I hope Eli plays within himself. We should win.
It is interesting to think about that failed Superbowl. The interesting thing about it is that the Giants made it to the Super Bowl. The current hype surrounding the Jets just makes me laugh. They haven't gotten to the Superbowl since 1969. They are talking about how they will face the Giants in this years Superbowl when they barely beat an injury depleted Patriots team on Thursday.
The Jets are just like the Mets. They want credit for stuff they never did. If you listen to Mets fans, they will tell you that their team is better than the Phillies and that they should have one the world series. What a bunch of losers.
It is interesting to think about that failed Superbowl. The interesting thing about it is that the Giants made it to the Super Bowl. The current hype surrounding the Jets just makes me laugh. They haven't gotten to the Superbowl since 1969. They are talking about how they will face the Giants in this years Superbowl when they barely beat an injury depleted Patriots team on Thursday.
The Jets are just like the Mets. They want credit for stuff they never did. If you listen to Mets fans, they will tell you that their team is better than the Phillies and that they should have one the world series. What a bunch of losers.
Mayor Bloomberg attacks Trooper York!!
So that hideous corrupt gasbag Nanny Bloomberg has the balls to stand up at a press conference and say that the way to get through the economic crises is to "buy a few less dresses."
WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I mean he could have said eat out less often or take public transportation or go to the library instead of the bookstore. Instead he has to attack dress stores. He knows I have a dress store and he is trying to destroy me. I know it.
Well it's on douche bag. Anthony Wiener has just got his new number one fan.
WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I mean he could have said eat out less often or take public transportation or go to the library instead of the bookstore. Instead he has to attack dress stores. He knows I have a dress store and he is trying to destroy me. I know it.
Well it's on douche bag. Anthony Wiener has just got his new number one fan.
Friday, November 14, 2008
When an Idea just doesn't pan out.
Althouse put up a post about Chief Oshkosh of a famous Wisconsin Indian tribe and I thought it might be cool to punch up a pastiche of the Leatherstocking Tales with the ultimate joke that Chief Oshkosh didn't want to live in the woods but only wanted to make tiny overalls for yuppie kids. But it seems like too much work. Anyway here is the first and last installment.
Leatherpanty was the most famous of the trail blazers who went to live among the savages in the wilds of Nekoosa on the banks of the Wisconsin. He was born to a family of tanners in New York State but turned his face from that base trade. He longed for adventure in the woodland Eden that beckoned him. As he worked in his father’s shop he gazed out the window and dreamed of a place where he could live free. To be the man he wanted to be. So he fled his fathers house with only a strip of leather that he fashioned into a breech cloth to gird his lions. That is why they called him Leatherpanty.
(Leatherpanty Tales, James Fenimore Cooper 1846)
I don't think enough people have read the Leatherstocking Tales to get what the hell I am talking about. I mean most know the Last of the Mohican's because of the movies but I have yet to meet anyone who has ever read The Pioneers and The Pathfinder and The Prairie. So I just give up on this one.
Leatherpanty was the most famous of the trail blazers who went to live among the savages in the wilds of Nekoosa on the banks of the Wisconsin. He was born to a family of tanners in New York State but turned his face from that base trade. He longed for adventure in the woodland Eden that beckoned him. As he worked in his father’s shop he gazed out the window and dreamed of a place where he could live free. To be the man he wanted to be. So he fled his fathers house with only a strip of leather that he fashioned into a breech cloth to gird his lions. That is why they called him Leatherpanty.
(Leatherpanty Tales, James Fenimore Cooper 1846)
I don't think enough people have read the Leatherstocking Tales to get what the hell I am talking about. I mean most know the Last of the Mohican's because of the movies but I have yet to meet anyone who has ever read The Pioneers and The Pathfinder and The Prairie. So I just give up on this one.
Grusinskaya and Peggy have no mail?
Grusinskaya (bursts into their suite, with a vein pulsing in her neck): What have you done you stuttering strumpet? Where is my mail? I have not received a single letter in several days. Where are the sweat stained pleas for my attention from the gibbering masses?
Miss Peggy Noonan: (cowering on a settee, holding a whimpering dog): I fear that most of your correspondents have found a new muse.
Grusinskaya: WHAT! THAT IS A LIE YOU PASTY FACED PUSTLE!
Miss Peggy Noonan: I am afraid that is true my love. They are enamored with the fecund strumpet with the idiot child. She rides in men’s breeches and shoots the moose. It is most unladylike. But I am afraid they find it most enticing.
Grusinskaya: They would never choose such a person over me. I am their muse. I am their Queen. They are devoted to me. To me do you hear!
Miss Peggy Noonan: I am afraid it is true. She is most unpopular in certain parts of the village. The anarchists and the syndalicist hate her. But all of your former correspondents leap to her defense. That callow young law student who is always mooning over you. That foolish old man who has the dress shop. Even the rotund fop with the pendulous breasts who reeks of bad perfume and who is light in his loafers. They all leap to her defense and sadly ignore their duty to do homage to you.
Grusinskaya: You blowsy bitch, you lie, they would never favor another over me…I will show you (She jumps across the table and begins to throttle the albino opinion maker)
Miss Peggy Noonan:PLLEEAAASSSEE SSSSTTTOOOOPPPPP!!!! (Cough, gasp, rattle)
Grusinskaya: Shut up you pervert…you know you are enjoying this
Miss Peggy Noonan: Yooouu onlllly hurtttt meeee cccaaauuuse yoooouuu loooovvve meeeeee (She falls unconscious as her nipples come fully erect and her shift becomes damp).
Baron Felix von Geigern dog; Woof!
(Grand Hotel, 1932)
Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend.
.jpg)
Toot’s Shors Saloon, August 1, 1962(Joe DiMaggio walks into Toots Shore’s saloon, what he doesn’t know is that his ex wife Marilyn Monroe is sitting in the back)
Toots: Hey Joe, how ya doing….ah…Marilyn’s here…in the back…just so you know.
Joe DiMaggio:
Toots: I don’t want no trouble Joe, why don’t you just go up and say hello.
(Joe walks to the back to say hello and stands in front of her table)
Marilyn: ( stands up and kisses Joe on the Cheek and says in a breathy sexy voice) Hi Joe. Did you miss me? (Marilyn sits down opposite Joe, and as she does her legs are really open. She is definitely not wearing any underwear)
Joe DiMaggio:
Toots: Of course he missed ya kid.
Marilyn: So Joe. How have you been? Have you been seeing anybody lately? I have. I have been seeing the President. President Kennedy. I know he’s married to that ice cold cunt. But he loves me. He loves me Joe.
Joe DiMaggio:
Marilyn: What nothing to say…well screw you…you guinea motherfucker (Marilyn picks up her purse and storms out of the saloon)
Toots Shor: What a crazy broad man, forget about her Joe.
Joe DiMaggio: Get me Carlos Marcello on the phone.
Toots: You sure Joe?
Joe DiMaggio: DO LIKE I TELL YOU AND SHADUP!!
Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend, the Next Generation
Yankee's Visting Locker Room Spring Training in St Petersberg February 19, 2009
Jorge Posada: Hey they have a big spread about A-Rod and Madonna in the Post’s Page Six today. It says here he writes her love notes. Jeeez what a maricon!
Derek Jeter: I bet she sends him little gifts too. I bet he gets little tokens from a lot of his girls.
Jorge Posada:Whadda ya mean by that Jeets?
Derek Jeter: Oh you’ll see.
A-Rod: (saunters into the locker room) Hey chico’s hows it hanging?
Joba Chamberlin: Like laundry on cleaning day Mr. Rodriquez.
Jorge Posada: What the fuck?
Derek Jeter: That must be a Nebraska expression man.
Joba Chamberlin: You seem to have gotten a lot of fan male this week Mr. Rodriquez.
A-Rod: I always do. My public loves me.
Jorge Posada:Yeah all the booing must be for somebody else when you get up there big guy.
Joba Chamberlin: You sure got a lot of packages.Here’s one from Miss Madonna.
A-Rod: Oh man, she sends me little gifts ….lets see….oh man a Victoria Secrets box…what’s this…Depends…..used Depends with vagina ring stuck in it…what the fu….Jeter!!!!!!!!
Jorge Posada: Hey they have a big spread about A-Rod and Madonna in the Post’s Page Six today. It says here he writes her love notes. Jeeez what a maricon!
Derek Jeter: I bet she sends him little gifts too. I bet he gets little tokens from a lot of his girls.
Jorge Posada:Whadda ya mean by that Jeets?
Derek Jeter: Oh you’ll see.
A-Rod: (saunters into the locker room) Hey chico’s hows it hanging?
Joba Chamberlin: Like laundry on cleaning day Mr. Rodriquez.
Jorge Posada: What the fuck?
Derek Jeter: That must be a Nebraska expression man.
Joba Chamberlin: You seem to have gotten a lot of fan male this week Mr. Rodriquez.
A-Rod: I always do. My public loves me.
Jorge Posada:Yeah all the booing must be for somebody else when you get up there big guy.
Joba Chamberlin: You sure got a lot of packages.Here’s one from Miss Madonna.
A-Rod: Oh man, she sends me little gifts ….lets see….oh man a Victoria Secrets box…what’s this…Depends…..used Depends with vagina ring stuck in it…what the fu….Jeter!!!!!!!!
Holiday
Holiday!
So I am walking along the Fort Greene Place between the LIRR and what comes on but Holiday by Madonna. Which is pretty funny because I have made a couple of A-Rod and Madonna posts. It is a cold almost winter day and it is kinda depressing because we have to lay someone off tonight.
If we took a holiday
Took some time to celebrate
Just one day out of life
It would be, it would be so nice
Now she really isn’t working out and we were thinking about it after the first day, but we gave her eight weeks to give her a chance and it has been a fiasco. She asked to leave early three times in the first two weeks and asked for a day off. The last straw was when she asked me to take off Thanksgiving weekend. The busiest shopping weekend in the year in retail.
Everybody spread the word
We're gonna have a celebration
All across the world
In every nation
It's time for the good times
Forget about the bad times, oh yeah
One day to come together
To release the pressure
We need a holiday
We have been paying a really great salary with the view that this person was going to be management. With the economy the way it is we can’t justify paying her so much more than our other workers. She is really, really not pulling her weight. We thought we could trust her. That we could leave the store in her hands and go out to showrooms. We couldn’t even leave her alone at all. One night she forgot to blow out the candle. Another night she left the steamer on. But the main thing was her heart was not in it. You don’t stop in the middle of the day and start texting when there are customers in the store.
You can turn this world around
And bring back all of those happy days
Put your troubles down
It's time to celebrate
Let love shine
And we will find
A way to come together
And make things better
We need a holiday
Now I won’t throw someone to the wolves. I will give her enough hours to pay her rent and survive until she finds a new job. But when she started pushing to take off Thanksgiving weekend after working here a month, we knew it was really not going to work. We couldn’t trust her to just dump us at Christmas time. Plus she asked me instead of my wife. That’s the old let’s ask daddy because mommy will say no ploy. That’s not cool because my wife is the boss.
Holiday Celebrate
Holiday Celebrate
It is no fun when you have to lay someone off. It doesn’t feel like a Holiday.
So I am walking along the Fort Greene Place between the LIRR and what comes on but Holiday by Madonna. Which is pretty funny because I have made a couple of A-Rod and Madonna posts. It is a cold almost winter day and it is kinda depressing because we have to lay someone off tonight.
If we took a holiday
Took some time to celebrate
Just one day out of life
It would be, it would be so nice
Now she really isn’t working out and we were thinking about it after the first day, but we gave her eight weeks to give her a chance and it has been a fiasco. She asked to leave early three times in the first two weeks and asked for a day off. The last straw was when she asked me to take off Thanksgiving weekend. The busiest shopping weekend in the year in retail.
Everybody spread the word
We're gonna have a celebration
All across the world
In every nation
It's time for the good times
Forget about the bad times, oh yeah
One day to come together
To release the pressure
We need a holiday
We have been paying a really great salary with the view that this person was going to be management. With the economy the way it is we can’t justify paying her so much more than our other workers. She is really, really not pulling her weight. We thought we could trust her. That we could leave the store in her hands and go out to showrooms. We couldn’t even leave her alone at all. One night she forgot to blow out the candle. Another night she left the steamer on. But the main thing was her heart was not in it. You don’t stop in the middle of the day and start texting when there are customers in the store.
You can turn this world around
And bring back all of those happy days
Put your troubles down
It's time to celebrate
Let love shine
And we will find
A way to come together
And make things better
We need a holiday
Now I won’t throw someone to the wolves. I will give her enough hours to pay her rent and survive until she finds a new job. But when she started pushing to take off Thanksgiving weekend after working here a month, we knew it was really not going to work. We couldn’t trust her to just dump us at Christmas time. Plus she asked me instead of my wife. That’s the old let’s ask daddy because mommy will say no ploy. That’s not cool because my wife is the boss.
Holiday Celebrate
Holiday Celebrate
It is no fun when you have to lay someone off. It doesn’t feel like a Holiday.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Sterling is going to bug the shit out of me this year.
What if Sterling goes ethnic with his Swisher call? I mean he is not afraid to be politically incorrect as witness his "It's an A-Bomb from A-Rod" that he first used when A-Rod got a home run off a Japanese pitcher.
I think ricpic will have to teach him some Yiddish. "It's a swisher from the Pisher as the Yankees go out in the bottom of the ninth."
Oy.
I think ricpic will have to teach him some Yiddish. "It's a swisher from the Pisher as the Yankees go out in the bottom of the ninth."
Oy.
Cat fight at Althouse
The girls at Althouse are mixing it up about Sarah Palin and it is a lot of fun. The claws are coming out over this one. Plus the number of comments on threads about her are unbelievable. I just wish if they are going to tussle like that, we could get some mud or jello or something into the mix.
The worst name in baseball history!
The Yankees just traded for Nick Swisher who has just about the worst name in baseball history. I mean if we take it too me he is going to strike out and swish as it were.
If we take it to mean he is gay, well that would be fine as you can be gay and be a good player like Mike Piazza. So that has nothing to do with it. I just don't want to hear John Sterling going on and on how Swisher Swishes. What a mess.
If we take it to mean he is gay, well that would be fine as you can be gay and be a good player like Mike Piazza. So that has nothing to do with it. I just don't want to hear John Sterling going on and on how Swisher Swishes. What a mess.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tales from the Amy's garden Moose edition.
Fiver: There's something very queer about the warren this evening...
Hazel: Is it dangerous?
Fiver: It's not exactly danger, it's... oh, I don't know. Something oppressive... like thunder.
Fiver: I feel it too. I think there will be lighting and thunder soon.
Hazel: Well the lady in the cottage is really going crazy. She is throwing things against the wall and drinking wine and screaming about someone named Sarah.
Fiver: That’s strange. What is she so upset about?
Hazel: Well she must be very white because she calls her that damn pale one. Then she sreams that there is only room for one cougar at a time.
Fiver: That can’t be right. I thought she had a BMW. Is she buying another automobile?
Hazel: People are strange sometimes. I prefer rabbits.
(Watership Down, 1972)
Hazel: Is it dangerous?
Fiver: It's not exactly danger, it's... oh, I don't know. Something oppressive... like thunder.
Fiver: I feel it too. I think there will be lighting and thunder soon.
Hazel: Well the lady in the cottage is really going crazy. She is throwing things against the wall and drinking wine and screaming about someone named Sarah.
Fiver: That’s strange. What is she so upset about?
Hazel: Well she must be very white because she calls her that damn pale one. Then she sreams that there is only room for one cougar at a time.
Fiver: That can’t be right. I thought she had a BMW. Is she buying another automobile?
Hazel: People are strange sometimes. I prefer rabbits.
(Watership Down, 1972)
Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend, The Next Generation
Yankee's Locker Room Spring Training February 9, 2009
Jorge Posada: Hey Jeter, what’s with all these bottles of water in A-Rods locker? Is that Red Bull or Vita Water or something new?
Derek Jeter: I think it’s that kabala water that he gets from Madonna. Here give it to me.
Jorge Posada: What are you gonna do?
(Jeter opens the bottle, pours out the water and pisses in it)
A-Rod:( strolls into the clubhouse) Hey guys how’s it going.
Joba Chamberlin: Great Mr. Rodriquez. We were just talking about you.
Jorge Posada: Yeah how’s it going comprade. Did you bang that skanked out crone last night or did you stick your dick in the Venetian blind instead?
Derek Jeter: Com’on guys. Leave the big guy alone. He finally found his soul mate. Give the man a break.
A-Rod: Thanks Jeets. We just fit together like two peas in a pod. Here have some kabala water. It will do wonders for you.
Jorge Posada: No thanks man. I’m a Catholic. We don’t drink holy water.
Joba Chamberlin: Yeah and I am an Indian. We don’t drink fire water.
A-Rod: Well that’s a shame. It will do wonders for your soul. (A-Rod opens the bottle and takes a big gulp) What the fu..........Jeter!!!
Jorge Posada: Hey Jeter, what’s with all these bottles of water in A-Rods locker? Is that Red Bull or Vita Water or something new?
Derek Jeter: I think it’s that kabala water that he gets from Madonna. Here give it to me.
Jorge Posada: What are you gonna do?
(Jeter opens the bottle, pours out the water and pisses in it)
A-Rod:( strolls into the clubhouse) Hey guys how’s it going.
Joba Chamberlin: Great Mr. Rodriquez. We were just talking about you.
Jorge Posada: Yeah how’s it going comprade. Did you bang that skanked out crone last night or did you stick your dick in the Venetian blind instead?
Derek Jeter: Com’on guys. Leave the big guy alone. He finally found his soul mate. Give the man a break.
A-Rod: Thanks Jeets. We just fit together like two peas in a pod. Here have some kabala water. It will do wonders for you.
Jorge Posada: No thanks man. I’m a Catholic. We don’t drink holy water.
Joba Chamberlin: Yeah and I am an Indian. We don’t drink fire water.
A-Rod: Well that’s a shame. It will do wonders for your soul. (A-Rod opens the bottle and takes a big gulp) What the fu..........Jeter!!!
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
HEENEY MAJESKI
JOHNNY GEE
EDDIE JOOST
JOHNNY PESKY
THORNTON LEE
DANNY GARDELLA
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
WHITEY KUROWSKI
MAX LANIER
EDDIE WAITKUS
JOHNNY VANDER MEER
BOB ESTALELLA
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
AUGIE BERGAMO
SIGMUND JAKUCKI
BIG JOHNNY MIZE
and
BARNEY MCCOSKY
HAL TROSKY
AUGIE GALAN
and
PINKY MAY
STAN HACK
and
FRENCHY BORDAGARAY
PHIL CAVARRETTA
GEORGE MCQUINN
HOWARD POLLET
and
EARLY WYNN
ROY CAMPANELLA
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
AUGIE BERGAMO
SIGMUND JAKUCKI
BIG JOHNNY MIZE
and
BARNEY MCCOSKY
HAL TROSKY
JOHN ANTONELLI
FERRIS FAIN
FRANKIE CROSETTI
JOHNNY SAIN
HARRY BRECHEEN
and
LOU BOUDREAU
FRANKIE GUSTINE
and
CLAUDE PASSEAU
EDDIE BASINSKI
ERNIE LOMBARDI
HUEY MULCAHY
VAN LINGLE
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
JOHNNY GEE
EDDIE JOOST
JOHNNY PESKY
THORNTON LEE
DANNY GARDELLA
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
WHITEY KUROWSKI
MAX LANIER
EDDIE WAITKUS
JOHNNY VANDER MEER
BOB ESTALELLA
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
AUGIE BERGAMO
SIGMUND JAKUCKI
BIG JOHNNY MIZE
and
BARNEY MCCOSKY
HAL TROSKY
AUGIE GALAN
and
PINKY MAY
STAN HACK
and
FRENCHY BORDAGARAY
PHIL CAVARRETTA
GEORGE MCQUINN
HOWARD POLLET
and
EARLY WYNN
ROY CAMPANELLA
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
AUGIE BERGAMO
SIGMUND JAKUCKI
BIG JOHNNY MIZE
and
BARNEY MCCOSKY
HAL TROSKY
JOHN ANTONELLI
FERRIS FAIN
FRANKIE CROSETTI
JOHNNY SAIN
HARRY BRECHEEN
and
LOU BOUDREAU
FRANKIE GUSTINE
and
CLAUDE PASSEAU
EDDIE BASINSKI
ERNIE LOMBARDI
HUEY MULCAHY
VAN LINGLE
VAN LINGLE MUNGO
Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend, The Next Generation
Yankee's Locker Room Spring Training February 9, 2009
Jorge Posada: Hey Jeter, I see your old girlfriend just married. That Mariah is some puta eh?
Derek Jeter: Does that mean smelly twat in Spanish?
Jorge Posada: Nah man that means whore. I see where she said that she didn’t have sex with her husband before they got married.
A-Rod: Yeah well he was the only one.
Joba Chamberlin: Wow that's amazing Mr. Rodriquez. Did you date Mariah Carey too?
Jorge Posada: Oh yeah, he’s working his way through his Time Life collection of the whoriest singers of the ‘80’s, ‘70’s and ‘60’s.
Derek Jeter: No kidding that’s great Alex. Now that you scratched Madonna off the list, you can give Judy Collins a call. I hear she likes it from both sides now.
A-Rod: Hey fair is fair. Madonna and I have something special. We work out together. We study Kabala together. We are soul mates.
Jorge Posada: Man how can you bang that stringy chick dude? Does she wear that Cone bra when you are slipping her the enchilada?
Joba Chamberlin: David Cone invented a bra? Gee, I have to get some more endorsements. Maybe I will Budweiser a call.
A-Rod: Yeah right, well I have to go work out. (Goes into the weight room with his personal trainer)
Trainer: Well that went well.
A-Rod: Shut up you moron. I can replace you with a needle and vial of monkey semen.
Jorge Posada: Hey Jeter, I see your old girlfriend just married. That Mariah is some puta eh?
Derek Jeter: Does that mean smelly twat in Spanish?
Jorge Posada: Nah man that means whore. I see where she said that she didn’t have sex with her husband before they got married.
A-Rod: Yeah well he was the only one.
Joba Chamberlin: Wow that's amazing Mr. Rodriquez. Did you date Mariah Carey too?
Jorge Posada: Oh yeah, he’s working his way through his Time Life collection of the whoriest singers of the ‘80’s, ‘70’s and ‘60’s.
Derek Jeter: No kidding that’s great Alex. Now that you scratched Madonna off the list, you can give Judy Collins a call. I hear she likes it from both sides now.
A-Rod: Hey fair is fair. Madonna and I have something special. We work out together. We study Kabala together. We are soul mates.
Jorge Posada: Man how can you bang that stringy chick dude? Does she wear that Cone bra when you are slipping her the enchilada?
Joba Chamberlin: David Cone invented a bra? Gee, I have to get some more endorsements. Maybe I will Budweiser a call.
A-Rod: Yeah right, well I have to go work out. (Goes into the weight room with his personal trainer)
Trainer: Well that went well.
A-Rod: Shut up you moron. I can replace you with a needle and vial of monkey semen.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Don't know much about history!
The first wife of a president to campaign for her husband was Lucretia Garfield who campaigned for her husband James. It was considered vulgar and low class for women to engage in politics but Mrs. Garfield was a free spirit who delighted in mocking convention. This was because of her prior life in a geek show where she was a star performer because of the fact she had two vaginas. Young Colonel Garfield met her in New York when he was in charge of the troops that were sent to suppress the Draft Riots during the dark days of the civil war. They were introduced by Tom Thumb the world’s smallest man who owed a great debt to Lucretia as she had sheltered him in her vestigal vagina when he was trying to avoid an angry mob of rioters. Mrs. Garfield toured twenty states and was particularly popular in Wisconsin because of her love of cheese. The Garfield’s had a legendary love story that is much neglected today because of the fact the details are so outré. It of course ended tragically when President Garfield was assassinated by a disappointed orifice seeker.
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
The practice of wives campaigning fell out of fashion until it was revived by Ida McKinley who was sent out on the campaign trail by Mark Hanna the Karl Rove of his day. Mr. Hanna devised the “front porch campaign” where Governor McKinley rested on his porch and bantered once a day with reporters while surrogates went out to campaign among the masses. Ida McKinley loved to meet the people and enjoyed campaigning swings throughout most of the United States. The best part about these trips was the return sex she would get from the Governor who was a somewhat indolent man but was a great reader, scholar and a cunning linguist. In a strange twist of fate, President McKinley was also assassinated at the Pan-American World’s Fair in Buffalo, New York by an anarchist named Leon Czolgosz. The police of the day were very much in favor of profiling and were watching all immigrants with beards and more than six consonants in the their names but missed Mr. Czolgosz as he traveled under his mother’s maiden name of Nieman. In fact the last reported words of President McKinley when he expired on his deathbed was “Nieman.”
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
Since the practice of campaigning by a first lady had seemed to be so ill-fated, it fell from view until revived by the very courageous Eleanor Roosevelt who criss-crossed the country to campaign for her husband. Part of the reason for this change was the fact the Franklin Roosevelt was in fact disabled and they wanted to conceal that fact from the general public. Believe or not in his first campaign most American’s did not even know that he used a wheelchair. But the curious curse of campaigning wives continued when on February 15, 1933 lone gunman Giuseppe Zangara attempted to assassinate President elect Roosevelt at Bayfront Park in Miami, Florida. Fortunately his arm was jostled and his shot ended up hitting Chicago Mayor Anton Cermak who died from his wounds. Reportedly his last words to the President elect were "I told you to tell that bitch to shut up.”
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
Bess Truman did not campaign for her husband except for their joint whistle stop train tours where she did not speak. But none the less the curse of the campaigning wife did strike on November 1, 1950 when there was an assassination attempt at the Blair house where the first family was residing do to repairs and renovations at the White House. Machine gun wielding terrorist tried to fight their way in to kill President Truman but were foiled by a heroic guard who gave his life in defense of the President. It was later discovered that the cause of this assassination attempt had nothing to do with the first lady’s campaigning but was in fact just indignant Puerto Ricans.
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
The practice of wives campaigning fell out of fashion until it was revived by Ida McKinley who was sent out on the campaign trail by Mark Hanna the Karl Rove of his day. Mr. Hanna devised the “front porch campaign” where Governor McKinley rested on his porch and bantered once a day with reporters while surrogates went out to campaign among the masses. Ida McKinley loved to meet the people and enjoyed campaigning swings throughout most of the United States. The best part about these trips was the return sex she would get from the Governor who was a somewhat indolent man but was a great reader, scholar and a cunning linguist. In a strange twist of fate, President McKinley was also assassinated at the Pan-American World’s Fair in Buffalo, New York by an anarchist named Leon Czolgosz. The police of the day were very much in favor of profiling and were watching all immigrants with beards and more than six consonants in the their names but missed Mr. Czolgosz as he traveled under his mother’s maiden name of Nieman. In fact the last reported words of President McKinley when he expired on his deathbed was “Nieman.”
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
Since the practice of campaigning by a first lady had seemed to be so ill-fated, it fell from view until revived by the very courageous Eleanor Roosevelt who criss-crossed the country to campaign for her husband. Part of the reason for this change was the fact the Franklin Roosevelt was in fact disabled and they wanted to conceal that fact from the general public. Believe or not in his first campaign most American’s did not even know that he used a wheelchair. But the curious curse of campaigning wives continued when on February 15, 1933 lone gunman Giuseppe Zangara attempted to assassinate President elect Roosevelt at Bayfront Park in Miami, Florida. Fortunately his arm was jostled and his shot ended up hitting Chicago Mayor Anton Cermak who died from his wounds. Reportedly his last words to the President elect were "I told you to tell that bitch to shut up.”
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
Bess Truman did not campaign for her husband except for their joint whistle stop train tours where she did not speak. But none the less the curse of the campaigning wife did strike on November 1, 1950 when there was an assassination attempt at the Blair house where the first family was residing do to repairs and renovations at the White House. Machine gun wielding terrorist tried to fight their way in to kill President Truman but were foiled by a heroic guard who gave his life in defense of the President. It was later discovered that the cause of this assassination attempt had nothing to do with the first lady’s campaigning but was in fact just indignant Puerto Ricans.
(First Ladies on the Stump by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
Reading history during the historic first meeting of President Bush and President Elect Obama
It is the consensus of most historians that Andrew Jackson had the hardest Presidency in the history of the United States. President Jackson was well known as extremely virile heterosexual and surrounded himself with a cabinet of noted swordsman. His secretary of War John H Eaton had a memorable affair where he seduced the most beautiful woman in Washington who was married to another man. Eaton was famous for the length and girth of his erection and this was the reason he was able to win the lovely Peggy. Jackson’s first Vice President John C. Calhoun was known far as wide as being a complete dick. But the hardest person in the administration was in fact President Jackson who had the nickname of Old Hickory which was a corruption of his Cherokee name of Old Hickory Dick due to the swath he cut among the virgin tribal woman during his many campaigns in the frontier. He would often pound nails with his penis at his estate in the Hermitage to intimidate his political opponents.
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
The most limber presidential penis of course belonged to Richard Milhous “Tricky Dick” Nixon who was famous for the shapes he could manipulate his penis into on the Washington “cocktail” circuit. He would twist and turn his penis to create various shapes including a duck, the Lincoln Memorial and his little dog Checkers. His quick and tricky dick was much in evidence in his rise from back bench congressman to senator to vice president. In fact it is rumored that the reason why General Eisenhower choose him as his vice president is because of his puppetry of the penis. Eisenhower said “He may be a dick, but he is one funny dick.”
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
The physical attributes of America’s first ladies have often been the subject of speculation and innuendo especially in the hands of political opponents of our chief executives. It is commonly agreed that Dolly Madison had the largest breasts of any first lady and that Helen Taft had the largest buttocks as she was well matched with her husband William Howard Taft. Lucretia Garfield was of course greatly renowned for her vestigial vagina that was the subject of songs and stories during James Garfield’s presidency.
A little know fact was that the wife of Warren G Harding did in fact have a wooden leg that was the result of a sexual affair that had gone awry. Florence Kling was the divorced daughter of Harding’s hated rival who “vigorously pursued” the Ohio newspaperman with series of depraved sexual escapades that led to their marriage. Florence Harding was the driving force in the popular ladies man political career and they delighted in having sex in strange and unusual places. Harding delighted in having sex with her supine on his desk in the editor’s office where he would unscrew his wife’s leg and use her other leg as a rudder to turn her around and around to have access to various orifices. The lies and excuses that they created to cover up their activities from their inquisitive reporters led to the practice of “spinning” that has endured to this very day.
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
The most limber presidential penis of course belonged to Richard Milhous “Tricky Dick” Nixon who was famous for the shapes he could manipulate his penis into on the Washington “cocktail” circuit. He would twist and turn his penis to create various shapes including a duck, the Lincoln Memorial and his little dog Checkers. His quick and tricky dick was much in evidence in his rise from back bench congressman to senator to vice president. In fact it is rumored that the reason why General Eisenhower choose him as his vice president is because of his puppetry of the penis. Eisenhower said “He may be a dick, but he is one funny dick.”
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
The physical attributes of America’s first ladies have often been the subject of speculation and innuendo especially in the hands of political opponents of our chief executives. It is commonly agreed that Dolly Madison had the largest breasts of any first lady and that Helen Taft had the largest buttocks as she was well matched with her husband William Howard Taft. Lucretia Garfield was of course greatly renowned for her vestigial vagina that was the subject of songs and stories during James Garfield’s presidency.
A little know fact was that the wife of Warren G Harding did in fact have a wooden leg that was the result of a sexual affair that had gone awry. Florence Kling was the divorced daughter of Harding’s hated rival who “vigorously pursued” the Ohio newspaperman with series of depraved sexual escapades that led to their marriage. Florence Harding was the driving force in the popular ladies man political career and they delighted in having sex in strange and unusual places. Harding delighted in having sex with her supine on his desk in the editor’s office where he would unscrew his wife’s leg and use her other leg as a rudder to turn her around and around to have access to various orifices. The lies and excuses that they created to cover up their activities from their inquisitive reporters led to the practice of “spinning” that has endured to this very day.
(The Long and the Short of It, Presidential Penises by Doris Kearns Goodwin, St. Martins Press).
Politics and family don't mix.
Since we opened the store, the wife and I have missed most of the family occasions. Most of those are on my wife's side as my family is a lot smaller and I don't like any of them anyway so it's not an issue. But we have missed two weddings and four communions and three confirmations in the past 17 months. But we get the full play by play.
Now we went to the wife's brothers kid actual Christening in the church because I think the actual Sacrament is what is important. Not the party afterward. There was a small get together with the immediate family that we attended. This Saturday was the big party where the ten grand uncles and aunts and the 37 cousins all came to admire the little baby. Now my brother in law went to every event as he always drove his mom and dad so most people wanted to reciprocate. He got married late in life and is very happy to have a daughter and rightfully wanted to show her off.
Anyway at the party a couple of the grand aunts were waxing poetic about how great it was that Obama was elected. They went on and on and on. Now the funny thing is that the are both very very religious Catholics who are Eucharistic Ministers and lectors and the whole deal. Well one of the cousins who is studying to be a priest couldn't take it anymore. He explained to them about Obama's position on abortion and the fact that he voted for the bill that allowed doctors to kill a baby that survived an abortion. They couldn't believe it. They said they never would have voted for him if they knew that. Why wasn't that brought out in the newspaper or by the McCain campaign. Good question.
I am just glad we didn't go. I don't like to discuss politics with people who are uninformed.
Now we went to the wife's brothers kid actual Christening in the church because I think the actual Sacrament is what is important. Not the party afterward. There was a small get together with the immediate family that we attended. This Saturday was the big party where the ten grand uncles and aunts and the 37 cousins all came to admire the little baby. Now my brother in law went to every event as he always drove his mom and dad so most people wanted to reciprocate. He got married late in life and is very happy to have a daughter and rightfully wanted to show her off.
Anyway at the party a couple of the grand aunts were waxing poetic about how great it was that Obama was elected. They went on and on and on. Now the funny thing is that the are both very very religious Catholics who are Eucharistic Ministers and lectors and the whole deal. Well one of the cousins who is studying to be a priest couldn't take it anymore. He explained to them about Obama's position on abortion and the fact that he voted for the bill that allowed doctors to kill a baby that survived an abortion. They couldn't believe it. They said they never would have voted for him if they knew that. Why wasn't that brought out in the newspaper or by the McCain campaign. Good question.
I am just glad we didn't go. I don't like to discuss politics with people who are uninformed.
Going Galt.
I am following Dust Bunny Queens advice and going galt. I just did this carpet guys taxes and I am trading it for getting my carpet stretched in time for Thanksgiving. Plus a good cleaning.
If only Con Edison needed their taxes done. Then I would have something.
If only Con Edison needed their taxes done. Then I would have something.
Giants shoot down Eagles.
The Giants beat the Eagles on Sunday night football in a see-saw game. I don't understand the Eagles game plan, they tried to run it and their line and backs are not good enough to do it on a consistent basis. Their defense was tough and got some turnovers and got them good field position and the Giants D was a little soft. But still a win is a win and you can't worry about it too much. We were 3 for 3 on challenges which is great particularly the one where they said Eli went past the line of scrimmage on a throw. It proved that his back foot was behind the line and that was enough. Who knew that the way we played on the street was the rule in the NFL. Sweet.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Tales from Amy's Garden Post Election Edition
Fiver: There's something very queer about the warren this evening...
Hazel: Is it dangerous?
Fiver: It's not exactly danger, it's... oh, I don't know. Something oppressive... like thunder.
Fiver: I feel it too. I think there will be lighting and thunder soon.
Hazel: Well the lady in the cottage must think so. She has been making strange noises ever since election day. It sounds like they are strangling a cat.
Fiver: That's good, I hate cats. By why do you think she is strangling a cat and not choking a chicken.
Hazel: Well she keeps moaning and shouting "My pussy, my pussy." And something about an Obama. Is that a kind of cat?
Fiver: That can’t be right. I thought she said she wanted to get a dog.
Hazel: People are strange sometimes. I prefer rabbits.
(Watership Down, 1972)
Hazel: Is it dangerous?
Fiver: It's not exactly danger, it's... oh, I don't know. Something oppressive... like thunder.
Fiver: I feel it too. I think there will be lighting and thunder soon.
Hazel: Well the lady in the cottage must think so. She has been making strange noises ever since election day. It sounds like they are strangling a cat.
Fiver: That's good, I hate cats. By why do you think she is strangling a cat and not choking a chicken.
Hazel: Well she keeps moaning and shouting "My pussy, my pussy." And something about an Obama. Is that a kind of cat?
Fiver: That can’t be right. I thought she said she wanted to get a dog.
Hazel: People are strange sometimes. I prefer rabbits.
(Watership Down, 1972)
Yelp can suck my balls.
I have been continually harrassed by Yelp which is one of these internet companies that list reviews of businesses by online posters. They keep offering me deals to put up positive reviews and notices on their search engine while it seems that this is the only place my store gets bad reviews. The cost is prohibitive and I don't want to do it but they keep calling and emailing. I don't think the Yelp customer is my customer so I don't want to encourage that demographic, namely nasty yuppies with a real sense of entitlement.
One of them wrote that wife was helping her and she was trying to decide between a $200 dress and a $500 dress. She said that the service was great and that when she decided that she didn't want the $500 dress, my wife went outside and left her alone. Now I remember this person and she is of a type. She was a new mother who was upset at having to shop at a "fat" store as she called it. She was treated with the upmost curtesy and service and was told the truth as we always do. The Donna Ricco she wanted would have taken quite a bit of alteration to make presentable while the Tadashi fit her like a glove. The point of the story was that she needed the dress right away for an event. It's no skin off our nose if she didn't buy the Tadashi because is sold the very next day.
You see these yuppie scumbuckets have a sense of entitlement that is palpable. They come smug an arrogant and if I had my druthers I would not be as nice as we are to them. My real customers are the working class people who want to look nice and are willing to buy great clothes that fit them. Like the bus driver ladies from the bronx or the working teachers who put aside money to buy a nice coat on lay away. Not some yuppie cunt with a sense of entitlement and a snotty attitude. But thats the way it goes.
Anyway Yelp has featured this review for quite a while and they expect me to pay them to put that out there while on every other search engine my reviews are almost always positivie on a 10 to 1 ratio. I think they should review their business model.
AND STOP FUCKING CALLING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!
One of them wrote that wife was helping her and she was trying to decide between a $200 dress and a $500 dress. She said that the service was great and that when she decided that she didn't want the $500 dress, my wife went outside and left her alone. Now I remember this person and she is of a type. She was a new mother who was upset at having to shop at a "fat" store as she called it. She was treated with the upmost curtesy and service and was told the truth as we always do. The Donna Ricco she wanted would have taken quite a bit of alteration to make presentable while the Tadashi fit her like a glove. The point of the story was that she needed the dress right away for an event. It's no skin off our nose if she didn't buy the Tadashi because is sold the very next day.
You see these yuppie scumbuckets have a sense of entitlement that is palpable. They come smug an arrogant and if I had my druthers I would not be as nice as we are to them. My real customers are the working class people who want to look nice and are willing to buy great clothes that fit them. Like the bus driver ladies from the bronx or the working teachers who put aside money to buy a nice coat on lay away. Not some yuppie cunt with a sense of entitlement and a snotty attitude. But thats the way it goes.
Anyway Yelp has featured this review for quite a while and they expect me to pay them to put that out there while on every other search engine my reviews are almost always positivie on a 10 to 1 ratio. I think they should review their business model.
AND STOP FUCKING CALLING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!
Playing with Fire.
WEIRD BUT TRUE (New York Post, Saturday November 8,2008)
Here's another reason why idiots should not be allowed to play with fire.
A Georgia man tried to clear cobwebs from his attic by using a blowtorch but only managed to burn his house down.
Galen Winchell accidentally set the eaves on fire in the process.
Mr. Winchell will be staying at campaign headquarters where he is chairman of the local Obama for President committee.
Here's another reason why idiots should not be allowed to play with fire.
A Georgia man tried to clear cobwebs from his attic by using a blowtorch but only managed to burn his house down.
Galen Winchell accidentally set the eaves on fire in the process.
Mr. Winchell will be staying at campaign headquarters where he is chairman of the local Obama for President committee.
Rainy Saturday and the store is slow.
It's a rainy dreary Saturday in New York and business is slow. I know it is going to be crazy tomorrow because it will just be me and the wife as one employee is away in Ireland and one is sick. So we will be running our asses ragged.
It really amazes me how this employee can take off and go to Europe. I am thinking about cutting an employee and doing more with less because I am deathly afraid of the Obama economy. I will just work harder and spend less. So why would you think this is a good time to go away for two weeks. Where did she get the money for it anyway?
Sometimes I just don't understand people.
It really amazes me how this employee can take off and go to Europe. I am thinking about cutting an employee and doing more with less because I am deathly afraid of the Obama economy. I will just work harder and spend less. So why would you think this is a good time to go away for two weeks. Where did she get the money for it anyway?
Sometimes I just don't understand people.
The Giants have to stomp the Eagles Sunday.
The Giants play the Eagles in a big division game this Sunday night. We need to step on their throats and knock them out as they always give us trouble. I hope I get to watch the game because the wife loves her Desperate Housewives. Luckily we tivo it and watch it without commercials so I should get to watch the game.
Friday, November 7, 2008
A reprise of some posts from April 2008 about the "Tigger of Narcissus."
Winnie the Pooh enjoyed his life. He went through in a happy daze, always stopping to smell a flower or follow a butterfly down a garden path. But life can be cruel and it really changed after the internet came into his life. Pooh loved to post whimsical sayings and loved to describe the simple vignettes that had brought his life such meaning. But he was constantly harangued by his commenters especially about his friendship with Foghorn J. Leghorn who was the mayor of cartoon town during the fifties and who was a strong defender of segregation. Pooh remained loyal to his friend because he didn’t think what he had done years ago had any relevance in the here and now. And the criticism was moot since Pooh was beaten to death by Mortimer Brezny for calling a tiger of his acquaintance Tigger. It’s funny how life works out sometimes.
(The Tao of Pooh, Benjamin Hoff)
Tigger had a hard life. After his father abandoned the family, his mother dropped him off with his grandmother Kanga so she could marry Speed Racer’s father and move to Japan. Tigger had to live in the forest and was forced to adapt to an alien culture. He was always really a jungle cat. Even so he thrived as he found many mentors who helped him along in life. Everyone reached out to help him along because they knew he would go far some day. He was sure to be elected King of the Jungle.
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
When Tigger went to school, he adopted a new identity. He didn’t want to be a cartoon Tiger, he wanted to be the real thing. So he went to meetings with radical groups and experimented with Feline centric ideology. And he joined a new church which had a very charismatic minister. Tony the Tiger. Tony hated all the other cats in the jungle. He thought they were keeping the tigers down. And that they had infected them with fur balls so they couldn’t make speeches to get one of them to be elected king of the jungle. Those pasty skinned lions had been on top for too long. Tony knew that only bigotry and prejudice could have kept his people down so long. He and his congregation just repeated their catchphrase about tigers: “Their Grrreeaaat!”
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
Now the time has finally arrived for Tigger to run for king of the jungle. His only competition was Penelope who was a very ordinary pussycat who was only popular because of her husband Pepe Le Pew. And he wasn’t even a cat, he was a skunk. His sexual misadventures were infamous, but he still was very popular in the jungle. Tigger had a lot of energy and he knew if he just offered change he could get a lot of votes especially from the young people. I mean why would they vote for his two rivals. An ordinary pussycat who never did anything in her life but cling to her husbands skunktail or the other party’s nominee, the octogenarian Old Deuteronomy who was only famous for being tortured by Marlon Perkins during the fourth season of Wild Kingdom. The election was his to lose.
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
It was a shame that poor Tigger became King of the Jungle and had such a horrible reign. He claimed that he could do so many things that he couldn’t do. He claimed that he could jump higher than a kangaroo but he could barely get off the ground. And he couldn’t even bowl. So he actually would have been better off if he had lost the race to Old Deuteronomy. The jungle had to wait another twenty years until a tiger was elected king of the jungle. The whole jungle rejoiced because everyone loved Tiger Woods. The end.
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
(The Tao of Pooh, Benjamin Hoff)
Tigger had a hard life. After his father abandoned the family, his mother dropped him off with his grandmother Kanga so she could marry Speed Racer’s father and move to Japan. Tigger had to live in the forest and was forced to adapt to an alien culture. He was always really a jungle cat. Even so he thrived as he found many mentors who helped him along in life. Everyone reached out to help him along because they knew he would go far some day. He was sure to be elected King of the Jungle.
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
When Tigger went to school, he adopted a new identity. He didn’t want to be a cartoon Tiger, he wanted to be the real thing. So he went to meetings with radical groups and experimented with Feline centric ideology. And he joined a new church which had a very charismatic minister. Tony the Tiger. Tony hated all the other cats in the jungle. He thought they were keeping the tigers down. And that they had infected them with fur balls so they couldn’t make speeches to get one of them to be elected king of the jungle. Those pasty skinned lions had been on top for too long. Tony knew that only bigotry and prejudice could have kept his people down so long. He and his congregation just repeated their catchphrase about tigers: “Their Grrreeaaat!”
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
Now the time has finally arrived for Tigger to run for king of the jungle. His only competition was Penelope who was a very ordinary pussycat who was only popular because of her husband Pepe Le Pew. And he wasn’t even a cat, he was a skunk. His sexual misadventures were infamous, but he still was very popular in the jungle. Tigger had a lot of energy and he knew if he just offered change he could get a lot of votes especially from the young people. I mean why would they vote for his two rivals. An ordinary pussycat who never did anything in her life but cling to her husbands skunktail or the other party’s nominee, the octogenarian Old Deuteronomy who was only famous for being tortured by Marlon Perkins during the fourth season of Wild Kingdom. The election was his to lose.
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
It was a shame that poor Tigger became King of the Jungle and had such a horrible reign. He claimed that he could do so many things that he couldn’t do. He claimed that he could jump higher than a kangaroo but he could barely get off the ground. And he couldn’t even bowl. So he actually would have been better off if he had lost the race to Old Deuteronomy. The jungle had to wait another twenty years until a tiger was elected king of the jungle. The whole jungle rejoiced because everyone loved Tiger Woods. The end.
(The Tigger of the Narcissus, Joe Conrad Klein)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
