Yvonne a know whose who?

Hey it takes a Lotta Love!

Yvonne a know whose who?

Now that's more like it.

Lily.....Lily....LIIIIILLLLLLYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yvonne a know whose who?

Especially if you know that position. Just sayn'

"Yvonne Craig & Genesee Beer"-1965

Vintage Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer Commercial

Louis Armstrong ::::Schaefer Beer

Ballantine Beer

Rheingold Extra Dry Beer

Remembrance of things Pabst

There used to be this great bar on Court Street called the Three Fours. It was on the corner of Third Place and Court at 444 Court St. Hence the name.

Anyway it was an old school neighborhood ginmill. Only neighborhood blue collar guys or people who were from the neighborhood were ever in there. It was hard core. You got an honest pour and the beers were dirt cheap. They only had domestic beers like Pabst and Miller and Reingold and Schiltz. Budweiser was a premium beer. Cutty Sark and Dewars were the top shelf liquor. Hard boiled eggs and pickles.

The one thing about the place was it had the most fights of any bar I ever saw. Somebody was always going outside to mix it up. The cops came all the time but they never wrote it up because they liked to drink in there on the arm so they wouldn't get closed down.

The funny part of it was it was always the same two or three guys who would start the crap. One of them was a relative of the owner and I think another one had a piece of the joint. I never had a problem as I had helped them out of a tax thingy and they were appreciative. I never went there that often and I never brought any of my friends because I didn't want them to get in a middle of a beef for no reason. So I would drop by once in a blue moon and have a couple of pops and then go on my way.

Nobody wants to hang out in a joint where somebody is just waiting to pick a fight with you. I know that. So I won't let it happen. I don't want my friends to get in a beef for no reason. I can handle myself but I don't want to put anyone else in the barrel. Just sayn'

No rest for the wicked.

Even on my special day I don't get a break.

I just wanted to sit on my easy chair and rest and read my kindle and maybe have a nice ravioli dinner tonight.

But we had to continue our walking regime where we go all the way down to the waterfront and walk along the piers and back again over the Summit St Bridge.

Then we have to go out to Long Island.

No rest for the wicked.

Let's get to the bottom of this!

You can look it up!

Or something like that there.

Been busy. Be back soon.

The Wacky World of Carol Herman

Carol_Herman said...
Mitt Romney is the "McCain" pick. You know I how I know this? I was picking my ass and the nugget I pulled out had it written on it like a fortune cookie!

And, McCain couldn't get beyond 48%. I don't know why that is but I just like to read off numbers. Like my IQ. It's the same as my shoe size so it is easy to remember.

He wasn't picked by the GOP voters because they liked him, either! They picked him because they hated him. That's how I picked my first three husbands. It easier to put a pillow over their face that way.

Obama was actually picked ... because he was liked way more than Hillary! Plus he was black. They always pick black people when they are choosing up a side. Unless it is a spelling bee.

And, ya know what McCain said that proved to be sheer lunacy? And I know because sheer lunacy is my stock in trade. In fact I wanted to start a nylon stocking company with that name but the Chinks wouldn't let me open a factory because they said I was a lunatic.

He said the press loved him. What a dope. The press doesn't love him. Not like all the people here that love me. You really really love me. Like that Flying Nun twat Prince Fielder.

And, he'd get all of Hillary's voters. Because he looks like a middle aged woman. Especially in the cankles.

Plus, McCain believed no white person would vote for a black person! How do I know this. It was also on the fortune I picked out of the nugget from my ass. That how buster.

McCain's an idiot. Let me tell you something.
It takes one to know one.

I hate it when they have on repeats!

There is not a Real Housewives of New Jersey this week and I am pretty upset. I look forward to getting my of fix of the idiocy that is this show. Especially my man Richie.

Now if you read some of the message boards or blogs about the show you will see that everyone hates Richie Wakile who is married to Kathy one of the new Housewives who is Teresa Giudices cousin. They hate on him because he is a wise guy. Never takes anything seriously. Always making jokes. Usually dirty smutty one.

In other words he reminds me of me.

You gotta love the guy.

Drunk Philly fan makes fool of herself

Kim Delaney former TV bimbo from NYPD Blue made a fool of herself recently while making a speech. A Philly native she had somehow got advance warning of how bad the Eagles would suck it this week.

Oh and that Michael Vick had broken his hand slapping a puppy but had to pretend it happened in the game so he could get workers comp.

Whose that girl!

Super hot in the sixties and still hot to this very day. This english cutie was a long time favorite of mine. And I bet of yours too!

When you saw her you wanted to go deep. Real deep. That was one sweet ride. So to speak.

Whose that girl and why do always get wood when you see her?

I think it's too obvious.

No not the clue. Or the dress. Just the whole thing.

Yazooowa!

Whose that girl in the rocking chair.

I think you all know her for her song about a smelly pussy.

Oh and it's not Mariah Carey. That's too easy.

Gratuitous Bathtub Photo plus whose that girl and what has she got in her mouth?

Yes whose that girl?

She is all soapy so to speak.

Whose that girl?

An old timey one that I think will be hard to get.

So here's a suitably obscure hint. Think the last thing Tony Soprano was in. That's right. You got it.

I think we what we have here is a failure to communicate!

" I think we what we have here is a failure to communicate!"
"Don't look at me Riddler. I am a private eye. I get paid to listen not to talk."
"Well you just don't get me."
"Sorry."
"Oh and one more thing."
"What?"
"Stop staring at my tits."

Let's laugh it up!

"It's really funny. I mean you married her. What a pig. What has she gonna be married about twenty times? Man I couldn't get drunk enough."
"Well it could be worse."
"How the fuck could it be worst?"
"I could go forward in time and marry her granddaughter. Snookie."

Marilyn's Diary

I remember the day Uncle Herman told my Aunt Lily that he was leaving us. He had fallen in love with another monster. A succubus named Carol. It seems that she had mesmerized him with an unending stream of ceaseless babble that had distracted him so much that he was drawn into her web. Her insanity was so seductive that Uncle Herman could not get enough. So he decided he was going to leave the love of his life to move in with this disgusting old hag that would never shut up. He decided that he was going to leave Aunt Lily. And little Eddie. And Grandpa. And most of all he was going to leave me.

We heard from him periodically over the years. When he moved to Boston to work with the Red Sox. When he retired and opened a Brussel Sprouts farm. And when his new wife took his name. But you see she had a terrible problem of dyslexia. She always transposed dates and numbers and names. So when she took Uncle Herman's name she made a mistake and transposed them. Thus she will always be known as Carol Herman.

She would never be a Munster

The Summer of Boo Boo

While all of this was going we had another crisis. The Park Rangers can and arrested Papa Berenstain and claimed that he had been molesting young badgers and squirrels while he was performing in the circus as the famous bear riding a bicycle. We were all shocked. Nobody believed it. He was a beloved performer. But when they searched the family cave they found Polaroid photos of young naked squirrels. He eventually pled guilty to spare the rest of the family from his shame and was tagged and released in Alaska where he became a principle advisor to the then mayor of Wasilla.

Later a documentary film maker made a very popular film about the case called "Capturing the Berenstains."
(Stan and Jan Berenstain "Son of Boo Boo", The E True Hollywood Story of the Berenstain Bears)

Put The Lime In The Coconut

Time to go to the Mexican joint for some margarita's!

Everybody's Talkin'

The Great Slob

I was always a natural slob
I liked to lay upon the bed
in undershirt (stained, of
course) (and with cigarette
holes)
shoes off
beerbottle in hand
trying to shake off a
difficult night, say with a
woman still around
walking the floor
complaining about this and
that,
and I'd work up a
belch and say, "HEY, YOU DON'T
LIKE IT? THEN GET YOUR ASS
OUT OF HERE!"

I really loved myself, I
really loved my slob-
self, and
they seemed to also:
always leaving
but almost
always
coming
back.

Eggs And Sausage

Girl in a miniskirt reading the Bible outside my window!

Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the Russian
Orthadox to the
west.

she is dark
of Eastern descent,
large brown eyes look up from the Bible
then down. a small red and black
Bible, and as she reads
her legs keep moving, moving,
she is doing a slow rythmic dance
reading the Bible. . .

long gold earrings;
2 gold bracelets on each arm,
and it's a mini-suit, I suppose,
the cloth hugs her body,
the lightest of tans is that cloth,
she twists this way and that,
long yellow legs warm in the sun. . .

there is no escaping her being
there is no desire to. . .

my radio is playing symphonic music
that she cannot hear
but her movements coincide exactly
to the rythms of the
symphony. . .

she is dark, she is dark
she is reading about God.
I am God.

(Charles Bukowski, 1/13/03)

Alone with everybody

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.


Anonymous submission.
(Charle Bukowski, 1/1/04)

I want respect!

"I'm your older brother, Mike, and I was stepped over!"
"That's the way Pop wanted it."
"It ain't the way I wanted it! I can handle things! I'm smart! Not like everybody says... like dumb... I'm smart and I want respect"
"Well you aren't going to find it here Fredo. Maybe you should start your own blog. Just sayn'"

So whose that girl who made a video about taxes?

Whose that girl that made a video about how the government should raise taxes that is getting the blogger lady and Rushbo all excited?

I mean I think the black bikini is what should get you excited.

Quick whose that girl?

I am so upset I could cry!

So the wife is insisting that we have to start exercising. She made us put on our running clothes and sneakers and go for a brisk walk.

I was ready for it. After I had a good cry.

I hate to exercise.

Hey Hossaroni?

"Hey there Mr. Cartwright. Nice to meet you. My name is Armand Ellroy. I wonder if I can get a photo and autograph. My boy is a big fan of yours."
"Sure Armand. Hey what kind of name is that. You one of the Eyetalians?"
"No Armenian actually. I am Rita Hayworth's manager."
"Really? So let me ask you. Are you getting any of that gash?"
"Oh no it is a strictly business relationship."
"That's too bad. I hear she is hot stuff. You know you remind me of my high school gym teacher. He taught me a lot of stuff."
"Really. Like what? Climbing up a rope"
"I guess you can call it that. Hey after this you can come back to the Ponederosa and I can show you my rare clumbers. Scooch in close now."

The Wacky World of Carol Herman

Carol_Herman said...
FDR got elected 4 times. His first time out, in 1932, was AFTER the Great Depression took hold. He was depressed when he got elected because his pee pee stopped working. That would get anybody depressed.

We still had the depression in 1936. And, in 1940. Didn't interfere with FDR's ability to win presidential victories. He only wasn't depressed when he was with my girlfriend Lucy Mercer. We visited him at Hyde Park back when we were teenagers. We were interns and FDR took a personal interest in us. And we did the same with his depressed pee pee.

In 1944, FDR was so sick ... he won without actually even having the ability to campaign! (And, that's where he changed his veep from Wallace to Harry S. Truman.) No matter what Lucy and I did we couldn't get his ..spirits up. Plus Wallace was a commie.

Rick Perry's ad appeals to all those close-minded white people who thought they were doing such a heck of a job with slavery! Mean spirited doesn't even begin to describe these people! I mean every white person is personally responsible for slavery. Everybody knows that. Even the descendants of bog trotters and spaghetti benders who came here a hundred years after slavery was done. White peoples. They are the worst.

And, Rick Perry comes out appeal to these idiots? These stupid white peoples. Like they count. Just because they pay the bills. We need to only listen to egg head professors and tax eaters who should tell us what to do.

He should fire his media adviser. I mean how dare he tell the truth about people losing jobs. You don't have to work. We can get it all from the free buffet line of rich people who can pay all our bills.

Even if he decides not to run this ad to often ... it's VIRAL now! And, that's NOT a compliment! I mean I remember the viral from FDR.

He gave me herpes.

Over the hills and through the woods to Grandmothers House we go!

After we left the doctors on Amity Street we decided to take a walk and we went down Henry Street. I never get to walk down Henry St anymore because it is out of the way and we have no reason to go down there. So I haven't walked there in about ten years. But at one time I was there every day when I was a little kid.

You see my Grandma lived on Henry St between Degraw and Kane and everyday my dad would bring me there at 7 in the morning before work. Then at about 8:30 I would walk around the corner to Cheever Place to go to the schoolyard to line up to go into Sacred Hearts. So we kind of retraced my life as we were walking home.

We went past PS 29 and the site of my Grand Aunts vegetable store across the street from the school where she sold the jelly apples. Then we passed the old convent on the corner of Kane St that they sold to the Hari Khrisnas in 1972 or so. I remember when they started walking in the neighborhood with their tambourines and orange saffron robes. I remember how they started trying to talk to kids in the neighborhood to convert them and the Mafia went and beat the crap out of the head Khrisna and told him if they talked to any kids they would burn the fucking building down.

We went down the block to the front of Grandma's house. I used to go there every day before school. My Dad would bring me about 7 in the morning and I would stay there until I had to go around the corner to Cheever Place to line up in the schoolyard at Sacred Hearts. I would help my Grandma while she prepared the food for my uncles when they came home from the docks at lunchtime. That's where I learned to make fresh pasta and sausages with the grinder on the edge of the table and how to make pickled eggplant and fresh vinegar and all kinds of great stuff that I still make today. Every morning she would give me a couple of espressos to wake up from the battered pot she had on the stove. On particular cold days she would pour in a little anisette and go "Nowa donna tell the nuns what you had. Tella them I givea you the peppermint candy capeice?" I would go to the school yard all hepped up and take off my jacket and run around and the old Italian nuns would go " The Irishe....no blood...they don't feel the cold."

After looking at the old house we walked along Henry and turned on Degraw St. We passed Cheever place which used to filled with kids in their Catholic school uniforms playing and yelling and fighting and getting in trouble. We passed Tony's candy store that had a stove in the back where the old man would make the best sandwiches you ever had. Potato and sauce on a half a loaf of Italian bread for twenty five cents. Yummy.

We continued along Hicks passing where the chicken market used to be where you got the fresh killed and plucked birds. Past the old social club till Union St and down the block to Fernando's.

On the way home we walked over the Summit St bridge. We decided that this will be our new morning walk to exercise.

But I don't think I will get to eat rice balls and panale sandwiches every day.

I miss my Grandma.

Hey Hossaroni?

"Hey it's so nice to meet you Hoss."
"Thanks partner lets take a picture."
"Great. My name is Michael Martin Plunkett. I am you're biggest fan."
"Thanks kid. Keep watching the show. Next week I fall off a horse into the watering thingy and Little Joe falls in love with dance hall girl. It's all new stuff I swear.'
"Cool. I want to write it all down so I can post it on the internet some day."
"What's the internet partner?'
"Oh it's nothing. Just a little dream I had. That someday people all over the world could interact on a system that reaches into their homes and offices. So that people who would never meet could conduct a conversation."
"That sounds creepy there partner. Let me guess. You are afraid of girls right? You shouldn't be. Go up and talk with one. I bet when you get tied of them they will get run over by a horse or fall down a well or something."
"Really Hoss? Well maybe I will give it a try."

The Summer of Boo Boo

Everyone in Jellystone was talking about It. The Rangers told everyone that young girls with long brown hair should not be on the hiking trails because it was too dangerous. Even if they had pepper spray and whistles is was still too dangerous. But many of them wouldn't listen. They kept going out on the hiking trails and they kept getting killed.

And then the first letter arrived at the Jellystone Daily News. It was from the killer. He sent it to the drunken columnists Jimmy Bearslins. In it he claimed that he was responsible for the murders and that a dog told him to do it. He called himself the Son of Boo Boo.

Which was strange because Boo Boo was a hopeless junkie who hadn't gotten in up in years so how could he have any kids?

It seemed like a hoax.
(Stan and Jan Berenstain "Son of Boo Boo", The E True Hollywood Story of the Berenstain Bears)

King Rice Ball

"ndspinelli said...
Trooper, We have discussed our love of "Eyetalian" food[that's how they say it in Wisconsin]. Hopefully, you enjoy some of the other great food cultures."

I am glad you asked that question nd. I not only love Eyetalian food I even love Sicilian food. Which the wife and I had the other day in just about the best restaurant in Brooklyn...Fernando's Focceria!

When I was a kid in the sixties is was always a treat to go to the panale store which is Fernandos. We would leave the school at lunch time and walk along Hicks St till we got to the store where we would order potato and panele specials or rice ball specials with frosty cold Manhattan Special espresso sodas. Nothing can beat it.

We went for a doctors appointment on Monday so as a treat we decided to have lunch at Fernandos. We got potato/panale specials. A panale is a deep fried pancake made from chick pea flower topped with three deep fried potato croquet's served on a hard toasted crusty roll and covered with ricotta and shaved Parmesan cheese. It is just about the best thing you ever tasted. We also shared the Rice Ball special that you see on the plate. Your basic rice, meat and peas rolled in a ball and deep fried and smothered in sauce and ricotta. Yummy!

We had Manhattan Special espresso soda on tap and sat next to my favorite picture of Mussolini. It was a trip back in time for me.

The Summer of Boo Boo

When we first began to chronicle the lives of the Berenstain bears we had no idea of the strange path the story would go. We thought we would be seeing them live their lives in peace and harmony while learning lessons from Papa Bear at the Shabbos table. Little did we know that Brother Bear was in fact the most infamous serial killing bear in the history of Jellystone park. He was weird. After he would come home from his job at the Post office he would sit in his room and listen to Black Sabbeth records and smoke funny cigarettes. And he was very attached to our neighbor's Boo Boos dog. It was almost like the dog was telling him what do. Strange things started to happen on the hiking trails of Jellystone. Young girls with long brown hair were starting to disappear with their dates. It was very strange.
(Stan and Jan Berenstain "Son of Boo Boo", The E True Hollywood Story of the Berenstain Bears)

Hey we were at the show!

The clothing show started today and for the next couple of days we are out shopping for bloomers.

We did take some time to hit one of our favorite restaurants in Midtown after the show.

Posting might be a little slow the next couple of days.

Try to get along you crazy kids.

Kung fu fighting 2

That's right bitch!

Kung fu fighting?

I remember back in the day when we would all go to the disco to dance and pick up chicks. We were there to have some fun but a lot of times we would end up in a beef. You see there was always some chick who would start trouble. She would talk to one guy or flirt with another or just start with someone and another dude would want to be a hero and start fighting with his buddies that he knew forever over some twist they never saw before.

I never got into those beefs because I never worried about what other people thought. Or what they had to say. If some twat said something to me I would "That's nice babe but I am just here to dance and have a good time."

It always got them crazy when you just did your own thing and blew them off. Just sayn'

Kung fu fighting takes a lot of energy you know what I mean?

Hey Hossaroni?

"Hossaroni?"
"What does that even mean?"
"And I ain't a Morman."
"How could I be a Morman when I can't even get married to one woman."
"Everytime I try to get married the girl gets run over by a horse or something."
"Now you have to excuse me."
"HOP SING! Time to shave my back."
"I have to ride out to Hossback Mountain."

Dear Mrs Steve Phillips

Dear Mrs. Steve Phillips

Well I haven't written to you in a while you frigid bitch. I have been having a bad time. Ever since Peety Gaamons threw me out of the assisted living facility because I mixed up the Ben Gay and the K-Y jelly things have been tough.

The massage gig ended when my biggest customer AL got in trouble with some redheaded bitch in California and he stopped coming to my massage parlor. The bitch that ran it decided to stick with Korean girls who were illegal and don't speak English. So I was out on the street.

I had to sleep in my Acura for a couple of months. You know my Acura. It's where I had sex with your dirt bag husband Steve three times. That's right three times.

Here is a picture of the first night we did it. He noticed me when we were on the field and he had to get him some of this. We went into the parking lot and he had me put on the Mr. Met Head and he made me turn around and he back doored me right in my Cookie Rojas. It was heaven. I don't know why it had to end.

You never loved him you bitch. With your fancy house in Connecticut and your kids and all your teeth. Stevie liked that I had snaggly teeth. It liked how it rubbed up and scraped his tiny little peter. Of course his peter wasn't as tiny as Peter Gaamon's peety but that is only because Red Sox fans have the smallest ones in the major leagues. Stevie loved it when I took it out under the desk while he was reading the scores on Baseball tonight. And now it is all over.

YOU BITCH!!!! YOU RUINED IT ALL!!!!!!!

Anyway I just wanted you to know that you didn't win. I am getting back on my feet. I mean I am still on my knees but I am getting back on my feet. Charlie Sheen just hired me to be a nanny for his kids. What about them apples bitch.

By the way I love the new clothes that the kids got for back to school. Especially the little one. Just tell him that he has to careful who he friends on face book. You never know who it might be that is sending him photo's of her Cookie Rojas.I bet that's the first time somebody winked at him with a brown eye. Just sayn.

Oh and remember to look both ways when you are crossing the street especially if you see a brown Acura with a busted back window.

Toodles,
Your pal,
Brooke.

Whose that girl flashback to the 70's special

Whose that girl. A member of the tribe and someone who left us much too young.

She thought she was safe because of Clariol but it wasn't true.

You just can't believe what you read in the papers.

The Wacky World of Carol Herman

Carol_Herman said...

Jimmy Breslin just wrote a wonderful book about Rickey Branch. I LOVE JIMMY BRESLIN! I used to write him letters in the seventies about my neighbor's dog and what he told us to do until they arrested my postman who lived downstairs from me in Yonkers and errr.....well let's not talk about that.

Rickey Branch was the baseball manager for the Brooklyn Dodgers, back when he signed Jackie Robinson to play. Followed very quickly by Roy Campenella. I remember seeing a movie about him. "Sunrise at Roy Campenella" or something like that. He was in wheelchair. Except in the movie he was white. And the President. I was very confused.

I am always confused. I always mix up my tampons with my fishing lures. They both have strings. And those hooks can be sharpe.

Who was Rickey Branch? The manager who broke the color barrier in baseball. He was the first one to wear white socks with black shoes. Or Negro shoes as they called them back then.

Who was Jackie Robinson? Well, you could say he was a Black fella. But his accomplishments were that he could run. And, he could hit! I even went out on a date with him. That was a big deal in the fifties let me tell you.

Well at least I ain't running for President.

Suck my dick Joe McGuiness.

Whose that dick?

Hey it seems you guys know all about him. You were just waiting for a picture of him.

Hint it's kinda like Cedarford but it ain't him. And it ain't HD House either.

Whose that dick?

Jeff-er-ry stop that!

"Jeff-er-ry stop that!"
"Why you so mean Jeff-er-ry?"
"I much smarter than you Jeff-er-ry!"
"Leave me alone. I have to watch my tella-novella's. Then I will talk to you."
"Monkey pooped in the closet and I don't pick it up. You pick it up Jeff-er-ry!"
"I want new breasts for Christmas."

See-ya....wouldn't wanta be ya!

So they sorta announced that they are dropped three bitches from "The Real House Wifes of New York."

Jill, Alex and Kelly were told that "they weren't fired but they didn't want to use them anymore." What Bravo is doing is freezing them in place with them hoping they still might get back on. They hired three new girls who have a lot more dough and they are stringing these ho's along. Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of beyootchs.

Now we all know Jill Zarin. Her only redeeming feature is that ricpic has a crush on her. But other than that she is the worst of the worst. She is passive aggressive and sneaky and did nothing but start shit all season long. She was the ultimate yenta and that really wore thin. Plus her shape wear is one big freaking joke! What a maroon.

Kelly is the insane model who looks like a dude. Why anyone would hire her to model is beyond my comprehension. She was always on the verge of a nervous breakdown and was just the equivalent of Carol Herman if you can imagine that!

Last but not least is Alex who I had a little sympathy for because she lives a few blocks from me. But then a friend of mine who is a real TV star ran into her and her husband Simon in a local restaurant. They just sat at the bar and texted each other and didn't interact with anyone like their shit didn't stink. Supposedly they gave off a real self important and entitled vibe. I hate that shit.

So see-ya.....wouldn't wanna be ya!

Tales of Amy's Garden

. Bigwig: Hyzenthlay.
Hyzenthlay: Sir?
Bigwig: I'd like to talk with you.
Hyzenthlay: Yes Sir.
Bigwig: I just wanted to know what is going on at the old warren. We don’t want any surprises.
Hyzenthlay: Well Sir there are a lot of new animals in the garden. It is getting very scary.
Bigwig: Really. What do you mean?
Hyzenthlay: Well it seems that there is a scruffy coyote who is trying to take over the garden. He is always yipping and yapping and chasing all the other animals. He is trying to be all mean and tough but he has dirty fur and some feces stuck to his bottom. You have to wary of him. Watch out because he might follow you home.
Bigwig: That’s crazy. But the Owsla will watch for him. We are ever vigilant and we have a few tricks up our sleeve. Who else should we watch out for?
Hyzenthlay: Well there is a senile garrulous wart hog who never shuts up. She talks and talks and doesn't make any sense. I never knew that wart hogs could live so long. She never shuts up and she is totally incoherent.
Bigwig: Really. Well what does the lady who owns the garden say? Or her friend the gardener? Is he still taking pictures of all the young animals while they are singing?
Hyzenthlay: No I don't think so. He hasn't had his camera out for a while. I think it is planting season. He is planting his blubs or something. At least I think that is his job. That and cooking pancakes and shaving the ladies hobbit feet.
Bigwig: But what about the lady who owns the garden? Doesn't she care that these new visitors are creating havoc in the garden and scaring the rest of the animals?
Hyzenthlay: Not really. I don't think she cares. Or understands what is happening. She is just busy adding to her collection of Paul Masson bottles in the front yard. She doesn't care about the garden. At least not enough to pay attention.
Bigwig: Well that doesn’t sound like much fun. Everyone is very happy at the new garden. We will keep an eye out for these new animals and will chase them out of our garden. It will be like they aren't even here.
Hyzenthlay: That sounds great. I wish they would do that here.
Bigwig: Well I will leave you to it. I expect a full report of what is going on here. Carry on Hyzenthlay.
Hyzenthlay: Yes sir. Will you be coming back again soon sir...
Bigwig: Perhaps. Just be careful. The lady’s garden sounds like it is much more dangerous these days. Watch out for that coyote. At least you can smell him coming.

But I might want to run for President someday!

"Hello Sid. It's Sammy. Look I can't make the gig tonight at the Fontibleau. Yeah something came up. I am out here with Tony Nelson. No not Tony Bennet. Tony Nelson. The astronaut. He set up something for me here. Yeah a three way. I mean a trio to play for the boys here on the base. You know I love the army guys. What....yeah air force. Whatever. Anyway I will see you tomorrow."
"Great let's go back to my house."
"Yes Master. Just one question?"
"Yes Jeanie?"
"What if I want to run for President someday?"
"That's funny Jeanie. A woman president. There's a better chance a black dude like me could get elected president. Never gonna happen."
"I guess you are right Mr. Davis. Let's go."
"Cool."

When a Reality Show is trying to sell us bullshit!

So are you aware of what the story is on "The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills." Right before the season started Russell Armstrong the estranged husband of ducklipped grifter Taylor Armstrong hanged himself. He had big time financial difficulties and his wife dumped him because he couldn't maintain a lifestyle where he could spend $40,000 on a five year old's birthday party.

Now Taylor has been a prime bitch since the get go. She is a passive aggressive mess who tried to keep up with the super rich bitches who are the show with her. And she couldn't do it. She pushed her husband to spend and spend to give the illusion that they were richer than they actually were. And it all caught up with them.

Her new angle and the angle of the show was that she was an abused spouse. She released photo's today of how she supposedly looked after getting Manny Ramerized by her husband. They only flaw is that if she was in an emergency room looking like that they are required to report it to the cops and there would be an incident report. So most likely this was from plastic surgery. It all smells like bullshit to me.

Reality shows are not anywhere close to reality.

I am sorry Master!

"I thought you might like a xerox copy of my va-jay-jay while you were on your mission. Please don't be mad."
"I not mad Jeanie I am just disappointed."
"Why is that Major?"
'Because you shaved. Now I will be talking about this for the next forty years."

Garage Mahal's Roadkill Korner

Hey I hear that Garage Mahal is taking the evil blogger lady and her consort out for dinner!

Cool!

I hear someone ran over a squirrel this week!

Clubhouse Confidential

So I downloaded this book by ex-Yankee batboy Luis Castillo who was the batboy through out most of the championship run. He had lots of interesting things to say about Jeter and A Rod and Jorge and the rest of the guys. Well worth the cost.

Clean up on Aisle Seven

One summer when I was a kid I had a part time job in a supermarket. The worse part about it was when some douchenozzle knocked over a display and you had to put all of the cans and what not back on the shelves.

Back in the day they used to hire kids from the neighborhood who wanted to make a few dollars after school. Now all those jobs go to Mexicans who work off the books and get shit pay.

So having to clean up a mess in the aisle takes me back to old days. And it still really sucks when you have to clean up somebodies mess every day.

Maybe I will have to hire a Mexican. Just sayn'

The Wacky World of Carol Herman

Carol_Herman said...

Off topic. But on menstruation. On the rag. (I got my "last" among all my friends.) But I had a friend who was as skinny as me, who mom didn't tell her anything. Who went to the beauty parlor to get her hair done. The hair on her head not the other one. You know not an Bolivia or whatever it is when they trim down south over the border. That ironpeter guy would have loved her.

And, she went to the bathroom. And, came out screaming ... because she was bleeding. All over the bathroom. And the floor when she ran out of the bathroom.

Of course, the women laughed. And pointed. And then they threw napkins at her. Not sanitary napkins. We didn't have them in 1932. They were regular napkins. And handkerchiefs. And a scarf. One lady even threw her a muff. For her bleeding muff. I mean it sounds right but it really wasn't.

But my friend had NO IDEA! Just like me. I never have an idea. But that doesn't stop me from telling you exactly how it is.

I wonder for how many women this would have been the truth? I mean they have to know that is why man are scared of us. We bleed all the time but we never die. Look at me. I am older than dirt.

And I don't look so bad.......do I boys?

Did you ever get the feeling....

That life is spinning out of control and there is no stopping it?

Did you ever get the feeling....

That the sixties were a lot weirder than they are in our imagination?