The New Anna Lucia Dresses are In.

I call this the Donna Reed dress. Or more often the June Cleaver dress. When a woman puts it on their husbands always love it and I tell them that famous line:
"Ward don't be so hard on the beaver."

We sold six of the them the first day they were in the store.

Keepin' it real yo!

Luke Cage was the man.

That's why the Crack Emcee is stealing all Lukes best rants for his blog.

He is retro macho baby.

When a Superhero asks for a poll well you just have to do it.

One of our superhero's has called for a poll. Our very own reader-i-am said the topic of superheros called for a poll. And here it is.

Which is you favorite depiction of a Superhero by the artist who defined the character?

Thor by Jack Kirby

Green Lantern by Gil Kane

Spiderman by Steve Ditko

Batman by Gil Kane

Luke Cage by Jack Kirby

These are in my opinion the best drawings of Superheros that I loved and I would love to find out which one is your favorite.

(Don't you love how Luke stole the Crack Emcee's threads)

But he's the mighty Thor, God of Thunder!

I can't wait to catch the "Thor" movie. Thor was one of my favorite comics when I was a kid and I never thought they would be able to make it into a movie. I hear that they kind of changed the origin story which sucks because I thought that was one of the best ones in comic history. When Odin put Thor's memories into Donald Blake and he found the walking stick/hammer it was pretty cool. They seem to have kept some elements of it but discarded others.

I especially loved the Jack Kirby version of the "Tales of Asgard" which were just about my favorite comics of all time. I even tried my hand at some fan fiction when I was in my early teens. But there wasn't the outlets like they have now with Baen books and what not. Who knows if I could have pursued that things could have turned out really different.

Anyhoo, check out our valued friend and commenter Blakes's review of the movie. He knows his movies.

Oh and he knows that pose.

French Douchenozzle rapes maid!

Hey they love Jerry Lewis.

What more do you need to know.

RIP Harmon you were a class act

Harmon Killebrew passed away. He was one of my favorite baseball players from the sixties. He was a guy you just respected. He used to come into the stadium with Tony Oliva and Jim Kitty Kaat and play the Yankees. You could never get too upset at the Twins. They weren't assholes like the Red Sox or their fans. Or self satisfied douchenozzles like the Orioles.

There were always certain guys you could respect on the other team back in the day. Al Kaline. Norm Cash. Frank Howard. Tony Oliva. Rod Carew. Harmon Killebrew.

I didn't get to see the great National Leaguers like Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Roberto Clemente and Willie Stargel. They were great in their own ways too but they played the dog ass Mets.

Harmon was the epitome of class. He was a slugger but he ran everything out. He wasn't the greatest fielder. In fact he was born to be a DH. But he always gave it his all and was a true Hall of Famer.

Condolences to his family and may he rest in peace.

The Dubious Case of the Disappearing Douchebag

My dear Holmes,

It is your most humble petitioner, Inspector Lestrade. It has been some time since I have last requested you assistance in the troubling matter of the not so recent disappearance of Lord Douchebag. This curious case has dragged on and on. It seems to have escaped the notice of so many who claimed the deepest interest and concern, but who have gone on as though nothing had happened. But there some new and troubling developments made it such that I thought I might contact you as we have not corresponded about this matter for many months.

As I had previously noted in my last missive, I or my agents have attended many of the salons of the noted conversationalist and dilettante Lady Chatterley where Lord Douchebag was a frequent and much valued guest. In fact it has been told to me that the Lady in question has often referred to him as wonderful. What is most striking is that his name has not passed the lips of any of the many participants for lo these many months and it is as if he never existed. But now an even more inexplicable event has transpired. The entire salon has disappeared.

Inspector Gregson had informally visited the salon over the past few months to see if he might develop some leads. Or at least that was his stated purpose. In actual fact he had continued his visits because of a strange friendship he had struck up with a young follower of Lady Chatterley who shared his interests in exotic spaniels and defecation. But it seems his new friend had spurned him due to his burgeoning relationship with a sepoy who had recently been detailed to Devonshire from his regiment in Delhi. This caused Gregson to leave in a huff. None the less he still maintained some correspondence with some of the other members of this obscure cult. And now it seems that have all disappeared. All of the fops, dandies, toadies and lickspittles have disappeared along with Lady Chatterley and her lover the erstwhile gardener. They have left no forwarding address or other means of contacting them. It is passing strange that they would flee and leave nothing but a pile of ash and an unpleasant odor.


I would like to ask if you would consider investigating this outré occurrence and help me puzzle out what has happened to the entire salon that has occupied so much of our thoughts the past few months. It is a mystery that requires you special talents to solve.

I hope all is well with you and Doctor Watson and wish that you convey my best wishes to your estimable brother Mycroft. I must tell you that I have purchased one of his etchings for Inspector Gregson’s birthday. He was struck by it and continues to express his appreciation every day although I do not see why he would treasure it so much. But I venture to presume that I am not as enamored of representations of naked street urchins eating bananas. My taste runs more to watercolors of lilies.

I remain as always,
Your obedient servant,
Inspector G. Lestrade
Scotland Yard
May 14, 1899

Commenter Memories Number 85-Meade is trolling around the internets

But that is how he won the blogger lady's heart.

It was his tat.

Commenter Memories Number 84-Jason (the commenter) hates fondue!

You see his Mom always told him he was born nine months after his parents shared a fondue pot at a swinging sixties party to celebrate the moon landing.

So fondue always gets him kind of queasy.

Commenter Memories Number 83- The Crack Emcee didn't complain

I mean Google was screwing around with his blog. I know I clicked on the link and they told me it was gone. But he was back up and running before you knew it.

It's tough when you get on the wrong side of the Google Police.

Commenter Memories Number 82-Carol Herman loves Eddie Fisher

But nobody is gonna vote for him for President. Sorry.

Baby loves to video!

Baby loves to see herself on video. She was dancing at her sisters Communion. The scary thing is she knows how to work the flip cam. The really scary thing is she is watching the video of herself dancing. The really, really scary thing is she does all of the dance moves from Jersey Shore. The fist pump. The Jersey Turnpike. She's only 1 and a half.

I am a scared Norton.

Hey I was busy and missed all the rest of the drama!

We were out at our niece's Communion all day so I don't know what is going on with all the drama with missing blogs and what not. The communion was at 9am so the biggest drama was getting the wife to the church on time. It was in Staten Island which is torture and the party was all the way near the outerbridge crossing. It was hell.

But it is over now.

You can't trust a duck!

As soon as I got home tonight, I saw that the mama duck had already broken open the port and made herself a snack.

I have to get a lock for the liquor cabinet.

The dick was happy too!

Hey I liked the port wine basket too!

What's crazy about a charity auction is the value of the prizes. They were all donated and sold for the higgest bid. This bucket of port was worth about $500 but my bid was only $110. Luckily I donated more to cover it but still what a bargin.

Now I will keep them in the back of the store to break out with cheese and grapes and bread when the husbands are waiting in the back room while the wives shop.

I just have to keep it away from the ducks. Those little drunken bastards.

The ducks were happy!

They loved the basket of port we won the bid on!

The little drunken bastards!

The Ratpack is Back!

So when I walk into the memorablia section, the first thing I see is one of my favorite photo's of Frank and Dean mounted on a beatiful frame. It has the inscription:

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning that is the best they are going to feel all day."

Words to live by.

Needless to say I won the bid.

A great night for a good cause!

Last night we went to the Pink & Black Tie Gala for the American Cancer Society. Our friend Stacy invited us to sit at her table and we had a wonderful time. We are not all that experianced at attending fancy charity benefits so we were like a couple of wide-eyed kids

They had a cocktail party to start on the terrace at the Steiner Studious where the event was held. In then cocktail party area they had a bunch of donated items with little clipboards where you would sign up with you bids for the item. We bid on a couple of things and when we went to settle up the volunteer said "Oh we have a whole bunch of stuff." It seems we won almost every bid. Which was fine because it was great stuff and for a great cause. We have been to two wakes already this year for people who have died of cancer. So anything we can do to help is fine with me.

And we got some great stuff.

Hey we missed the whole blogger thingy!

We had a crazy day yesterday. We went to the Pink & Black Gala held for the American Cancer Society at the Steiner Studios in Fort Greene. Our friend Stacy London was the chairwoman and host and we were honored to attend and show our support for the cause.

We aren't much for big shot charity auctions so this was our first time. They had a really nice cocktail hour and everyone who is anyone in Brooklyn was there. In the cocktail area they displayed all this stuff for a silent auction. The way it works is you sign your name and you bid on each individual item and if you are the high bidder you win. Well we won a lot of stuff! Photos to follow.

All in all it was a wonderful night. And I had no idea that Blogger had gone crazy until I got home around midnight.

Keep your eye on the sparrow.

I gave Tony a call to see if he could dig anything up. He went to talk to the Crack Emcee's Dad. But Rooster came up empty. He had no idea.

By the way Tony asked me to say hello to Titus. They both collect a cock-or-two. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

They ain't in LA....i think.

I skyped Pepper to check her informants to see if they are hiding out in the city of Angels.

But she was getting ready to go undercover as a stripper and I sort of got distracted.

Sorry.

I put out the word and the guys are reporting in.

I sent out word for some of detective pals to see if they can locate the missing Meadhouse tandem. But not all of them were receptive.

Frank and Harry O just laughed it off. Harry said "They are probably just off sharing a half a sandwich and one beer in some greasy spoon where they won't spit in their food. Which means they have to travel a long ways from Madison. They will turn up."

Frank just wanted to know if we had any more of those cocktail wieners.

I put the ducks on the case!

They are reading up on investigative techiques so we can figure out what happened to our friends. You can't just dissappear like that. They have to be around somewhere.

We better get quacking. I mean cracking. I mean crack emceeing. I don't know what I mean.

Maybe I can ask Sir Archy to weigh in from the Astral Plane to give us an idea as to what is going on. I mean so many people are displaced right now. MadisonMan can't stay balance on both sides of the fence without the blogger lady? Where is Garage Mahal going to go to drop pithy putdowns in progressive proclamations? Where is Titus going to pinch his loaves? Where will Jay Retread go to whack his bag?

We need some reinforcements.

That can't be it!

Titus just sent me the link to this porn website that he said the blogger Lady and Meade set up in place of the old one. That can't be right!

I mean there are a lot of photo's of buds and flowers and sweaty workingmen but it is not the same site.

Although Jay Retread seems to comment there an awful lot.

We went to the Bus Station...but no dice!

That's where you usually find the runaways. But all I found was the Crack Emcee and a bunch of hookers. Not together of course. Just hanging around outside smoking.

Next up we are going to the beach right off of Ocean Parkway. Just sayn!

LOST!!!!!

The evil blogger lady is gone?

Or is she just lost in space?

Her blog is missing and the notice from blogger says it has been removed? What's up with that? And if a big time blog like Althouse can go missing what about a little pop stand like me. Was it just a technical glitch? Did something nefarious go on? Is somebody hacking her? Has anyone seen AlphaLiberal? Jeremy? Jay Retread? Mary?

It is really weird. I wanted to post last night but Blogger was doing some sort of maintenance and I couldn't get on it to comment or put up new threads. So something is going on here. What it is, is not exactly clear. There people with signs over there. Mostly saying we have to beware.

What do you think?

The Ducks are hungry!

So we got Thai. They hate take out but you can't bring them to the restaurant. It sounds like they are farting all the time.

Yes that's right. That was them. That's my story and I am sticking to it.

This is not the Wall of Bras!

It is the wall of no bra's. Totally different thing. Just sayn'

You know what they say about guys with big feet?

They have big shoes. These size 14 puppies were my new purchase last week. The wife and I have started walking to work off some of our sugar and I needed something to wear instead of my trustie Rockports.

They are pretty comfortable and fun to wear.

We are back at it today!

We are back painting today. Tuesday is normally our day off but we are spending it painting. We had to put the finishing touches to the interior as we paint the black front part of the store as well as installing a "Wall of Bra's" in the back room.

Yes that's right. A "Wall of Bra's."

Don't ask me I just work here.

Everything you need to learn about life you can learn from Reality TV

I have sort of stopped watching regular episodic TV these days because they have all become just the same old/same old. In the glut of CSI’s and NCIS’s and Law and Orders there is just not enough to interest me. You can tell who the murderer is in the first reel. He is the usually the white guy or the soldier or the cop. Never the drug dealer or the junkie son. Last week on Blue Bloods they pulled the same old shit when instead of the junkie son who lived in the basement being the murderer they made it the brother and sister who ran the car dealership. All of these shows like “Criminal Minds” and “The Mentalist” all run along the same predictable pattern. Whenever there is a figure that used to be respected like a businessman or clergyman or soldier you can bet they are the “real criminal.” It gets really old after a while.

So I spend my time watching reality TV. The Real Housewives. Celebrity Apprentice. Storage Wars. Hard Core Pawn. Pawn Stars. American Pickers. Jersey Shore. Mob Wives. Sister Wives. Say Yes to the Dress. What Not to Wear. American Idol. And all the rest. It is a welcome respite to the continual overwhelming douche baggery that is fictional episodic television these days.

When you watch American Idol you are watching a show you can see with the whole family. You don’t have to worry about content. They won’t be showing a dismembered body or tell you how a child rapist can get away with it. There are no serial killers or cannibals. Just people singing. Some of them better than others. This year it has been kind of sweet. They got rid of the glowering pissed off presence of Simon Cowell and up the star power with JLo and Steven Tyler. It is not for everyone and you can always find some douchenozzle to tell you how horrible it is and how they can’t really sing and what not. But what you see is America. People from all over the country who sing different styles and have different stories. Not the homogenized coastal elites that dominate the sensibility of episodic television.

When you see a show like Hard Core Pawn that is based in a Pawn shop in Detroit’s 8 Mile district you get a feel for what life on the edge feels like when you have to pawn you Microwave to get money to eat. America Pickers takes you to the backwoods of America to find eccentrics who have hoarded treasures that we would pass by and think were just junk. It’s an education on places I would never go and people I would never meet. I get a kick out of seeing how they do it in the backwoods of Alabama where some guy with no teeth might still have hundreds of motorcycles and old cars on his property. It is pretty amazing.

We love What Not to Wear because they have come to the store about 19 times. Whenever they have anybody bigger than a size 14 they come by and we hook them up with some great clothes. So we got a little insight into how they film these shows and we can pick the winners and the losers.

One cooking show we like a lot is “Extra Virgin” which stars actress Debi Mazer and her husband who is from Tuscany. They have a very warm and loving relationship and he cooks up amazing simple Italian meals. He reminds us of us. I have been making several of his dishes and they are just great. The love they have is palpable and it is really great TV. Cooking shows in general are much more enjoyable than any CIS Dayton or Law and Order Dubuque.

Now the Real Housewives is another kettle of fish. Each series is different but they all seem to follow the same pattern. You have the big fish, the mama bear, the one everyone is supposed to defer to and when you don’t the conflict arises. Vicki on the OC, Caroline on New Jersey, Kyle on Beverly Hills, and the disgusting Jill Zarin on New York are all the major players. Everyone else falls into a slot. There is always another Housewife who sets up in opposition to them and their fighting is the basis of the series. Gretchen on the OC, Danielle on Jersey, Camille Grammer on Beverly Hills and Bethanny Frankel were set up as the foils who opposed the queen bees. It is a lot like high school. But then so is life. But some of these shows take an interesting turn. Camille Grammer got a very poor edit but on her appearances on the reunion shows and elsewhere she proved to be a reasonable and relatively nice person who was willing to apologize and try to work things out. And Bethanny went on to tremdous success on her own spin off show which is a much better watch than her old series. The love story with her husband and the birth of her baby and her business success are all wonderful things to watch after a hard day’s work and make you smile. At least it makes me smile. And the fact that the Real Housewives of New York is just foundering just adds icing to the cake.

You used to get involved with the lives of fictional characters on your favorite shows. Would Hunter and Dee Dee ever get together? Would Cannon be able to squeeze out from behind the wheel of his Lincoln? Would Angie take off her top on Police Woman? What bizarre way will the next fiancé of a Cartwright die? But now most of the new fictional shows just don't have the same juice for me. They beat me over the head with political correctness and mind numbing liberal bullshit. I would much rather follow the day to day tribulations of Snookie and Vinny and the Guido’s of Jersey Shore. Will somebody shoot Les at American Jewelry because he ripped them off one too many times? Will the Pumpkinheaded kid win on Idol? Will somebody whack Teresa because they can’t deal with her shit anymore? These are the questions that I think about.

So I love reality TV. I don’t care what you think. Millions of Americans agree with me. And that is not just the ones that Snookie has blown. It is what TV is all about these days.

Take your pompous disapproval over to Charlie Rose, Meet the Press, and Boringheads.

The world has passed you by.

It's Mother's Day and we need to salute our Moms

My Mom is a fifties Mom. I mean I grew up in the fifties and the sixties but she always had a fifties sensibility. She was a shy first generation Italian girl who was brave enough to get on the train and go to work in the cable department of the Irving Trust on Wall St. She met this handsome quick witted Irishman who would always tease her. "When are you going to invite me to your house for a nice Italian dinner." So one night she said "Tomorrow." He came to her mother's house and they ate dinner together every night until the day he died.

She raised four kids as a stay at home mom. She took us to school and made sure we did our homework. Whenever she joined a club she would always get the thankless tasks. Collecting the dues. Making people sign up for this or that. But she was a worker. She took care of her her Mom my grandmother who had Alzheimer's in the house for the last 12 years of her life. She didn't complain even though it was very tough. Now she is taking care of her brother who has it too. She didn't complain she just worked every day to keep things going.

We didn't always agree, especially about cooking. Even though she was a great cook she took a minimalist approach. She skipped a lot of steps that my grandmother used to take. My grandmother taught me how to cook so I followed her way of doing things. The last twenty years I have been doing all the cooking at family events. And I would do it old school. Always fresh garlic sliced razor thin never garlic salt or garlic from the jar. So my cooking takes her back to the old days even though she doesn't have the patience to do that anymore.

She is still going strong at eighty taking care of her brother and keeping us all in line. She is a great lady and I owe most of what I am to the example that she and my father gave in their life together.

I love you Mommy.

Happy Mothers Day!!!!!!!!!

Look out below it's an Instalanche!!!!!!

So yesterday the blogger lady was kind enough to link to me when she was guest blogging at Instapundit. And I had the resulting instalanche of page views when people followed the links. It was to the story about the lady who wanted a refund on her purchase of clothes that she had wore at her niece's Communion instead of store credit. I got a lot of new comments and a lot of interesting viewpoints.

One of them in particular interested me was by Carol Herman who said:

"By the way, she's LOCAL. Your story is now all over the Internet! People who read this in Brooklyn, probably know your store. And, if so, they probably know the "local" restaurant, as well."

Now that might be true. Even though I use a non de plume because my real name is the same as a very famous person in New York, many people know who I am and have contacted me at the store. Commenters as diverse as Pogo and Ritmo have got in touch and a few have come by to say hello. But I think people who comment on blogs and spend a lot of time on the net overestimate the importance of what they are doing. When I mention blogs to most people they have no idea what I am talking about. Even big time blogs like Instapundit or Althouse or Ace of Spades are not on their radar. They have no idea what I am talking about. When we went to the Thai restaurant last night I was talking about it to all the people there and not one of them had ever heard of Instapundit let alone my little pop stand. I think people take themselves and their opinions way too seriously.

That in essence was what that lady in the original post did at the store. She pulled the "Don't you know who I am card." The answer to that is always the same. "Yes I know who you are....an asshole." Some of the comments on closed shops like boringheads have such an over the top pompous sense of their importance that is just laughable. Get over yourselves douchenozzles. As Brother Mattihas used to say "Hey there are about a billion Chinamen who don't care what you think moron." You can't take yourself too seriously. Life is too short. When you flounce off like a diva you can't honestly expect anyone to give too shits. There are way too many things going on in this world for anybody to be paying attention to what you have to say.

So the Instalanche was very nice. But I think my blog has a somewhat limited appeal. Not everybody gets it. Or likes it. But that's OK.

Just know one thing. No refunds. Only store credit.

It's usually busy on Mother's Day

It's usually busy on Mother's Day. We are just waiting for brunch to be over. It is a beautiful day outside and they are lingering over coffee. We usually get lot's of Mom's and daughters who come out for a day of shopping. Luckily we have a bunch of new stuff for them.

It should be fun!

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mothers day to all the Mothers's of sons and daughters and to our grandmothers and our great-grandmothers.

Have a wonderful time with your family and know that you are loved!

Laura Bush's Diary

So the twins and I were knocking back some Lone Star beers and sharing a splif and having some Nacho’s and watching the Celebrity Apprentice when this news flash thingy comes on. It was right at the end and the nasty giraffe Nene was about to go upside Starr Jones head and they cut to the news. They said they had a big announcement and cut out of the boardroom. Boy Barry will do anything to screw with Donald Trump.

Then they announced that they had got Osama Bin Laden and I couldn’t believe it. I had Jenna go wake up her daddy. He always goes to bed by ten o’clock unless we are planning on bumping nasties which he doesn’t care because he is an early riser if you know what I mean. But I knew he wanted to hear about this. So Jenna went in and woke him up and came out in his power ranger pajamas rubbing his eyes and goes “What’s up Laura?” “Guess what George….they just announced they got Osama.” ‘But he was dead three years ago from Kidney failure. What did they dig him up and kill him again?” “Well we taped the speech and you can hear it.”

So we played the tape and W laughed through the whole thing like he was watching the Stooges or something. “This is some funny shit Laura. Does he really thing anyone is gonna buy this or what?” “People are gonna believe him W. Just remember what happened with Hossey Vaziri.” “Ha you got that right baby. I am going back to sleep. Unless you want to play Nasty Nurse and the Dallas Cowboy with the sprained joint?” “Ewwwweeeee Daddy” shrieked the girls “Gross. Get out of here so we can watch Jerseylicious!”

Once W toddled off to bed Jenna turned to me and said “What did you mean Momma? Who was Hossey Whoyoucallit” “Why honey childe that is the Iron Shiek.” “Oh Momma that ‘s pretty funny. Hey Barb don’t bogart that joint bitch.” “Sorry JenJen. So tells us about it Momma.”

You see W and I have a pretty open marriage. We love each other dearly but in our younger days we were kinda frisky. And every once in a while we would get in a snit and go our own separate ways for a while. This one time W was really smitten with Sandy Duncan and he was traveling all over to track her down that nasty little twat. Anyhoo Sandy was on Broadway as an understudy to Jane Fonda in “Barefoot in the Park” and W was always up there in her business banging the crap out of her. He banged her so hard he put her eye out. But that’s another story.

I was really pissed and I decided to get back at him. So I called up my first lover, my animal, my monkey man, the Gorilla my dreams. Gorilla Monsoon.

You remember when I told you about how Gorilla and Jay Strongbow and I had first met. Well I wanted to get back at W so I called up the Gorilla and he said to come join him. You see he was on the road in Boston and rassling at a big show at the Boston Garden. So I flew up to meet him and got there just as the show was about to start. I saw the Grand Wizard and he got me in and got me a seat in the front row as the card started. Ricky the Dragon Steamboat kicked the crap out of some Eye-talian mook and the tag team of Toru Tanaka and Mr. Fuji beat up a couple of local yokels. Then it was time for the main event. It was my Gorilla against this new villain. He was from Iran and they called him the Iron Sheik. Now his gig was that he was from Iran and he hated America. It was the time of the hostage Crisis and he was waving the Iranian flag and spitting on the American flag and riling the crowd up. That pissed off the Gorilla because even though he was from parts unknown he loved his country. Well the first thing that dirty bastard did was stick the Gorilla in the eye with the stick from his Iranian flag so he couldn’t see. He cut him with this razor he had hidden in his pointy shoes and blood was flowing down the Gorillas face and he couldn’t see anything. Then the Sheik pulled out a loose piece of the parquet floor and started beating the crap out of the Gorilla with it until he collapsed. It went on and on and I was screaming and tried to get into the ring but Elizabeth and Superfly Snooka held me back. Finally Sergeant Slaughter came running out of the locker room and chased that Iranian cocksucker out of the ring. But the damage was done. A sneak attack by the Iron Sheik had ended my Gorilla’s career.

We vowed revenge after that. Me and the gorilla and a couple of his friends went from rasslin show to rasslin show trying to track down this dirty rat bastard. There was me and the Gorilla and Jay Strongbow and Pedro Morales and Bruno the Living Legend Sammartino. Finally we tracked him down to a show in Florida. We all trooped into the dressing room and there he was. I confronted him. “So you are the Iron Sheik?” “No I am not. That’s my brother Hussein. I am Hossey. Don’t hurt me American Lady.” But I didn’t care. I went after him. I clawed his eyes and scratched his face and I kept kicking him in the nuts again and again. They had to drag me off of him. Jay Strongbow had to put me in a sleeper hold to calm me down. I didn’t know what happened after that. It seems that they made some kind of money settlement where the Sheik had to pay the Gorilla every time he wrestled. They had a lot of corrupt deals like that. The only place that is worse is the House of Representatives. I was upset and the Gorilla and I sort of drifted apart. W came home an apologized and we took off where we left off and soon the twins were born and we dedicated ourselves to each other.

But to this day whenever the Iron Sheik is out and about he pees himself because of the damage I did to his nuts. I saw him on Opie and Anthony and he had wet himself right there in the studio. So I told the girls to let that be a lesson to them.

If you piss me off you will never pee right again.

Oh and Happy Mothers Day.

Hell Needs a New PA Announcer

Lucifer: This is getting really tedious. How is it we can’t find anybody to be the new PA announcer. I have been looking for years now. Who has slid down the shute lately Forcas?

Forcas:Well we just had someone float in from the ocean view suites.

Lucifer: Really? Who that funny lookin’ dude with the mackerel stuck in his towel? He looks like a lesbian Carmen Miranda. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Forcas: Yes and he is an Arab. They usually have a scorpion or a cactus or something stuck in their towel heads. Never sea creatures. It’s not often you find an Arab that drowned. Or even that got wet. They don’t like to wash all that much you know. That’s why they usually smell like Lance Armstrong’s ball sack after the Tour d’ France.

Sorta Osama Bin Ladin (tumbles through the trap door to fall in front of the throne of Lucifer, with a ton of water and several fish flopping on the sidewalk that immediately start to fry on the burning floor of hell) What…in the name of the Prophet? Where am I?

Lucifer: Hey welcome to Hell!

Sorta Osama Bin Ladin: Wait I am supposed to be in Paradise. I am Osama Bin Laden the beloved of the Prophet.

Lucifer: No you are not. Osama has been here in Hell for years. I have him driving a cab with Joan Crawford and Betty Davis in it arguing about who was the best actress. That poor fuck is really suffering. He keeps pulling out his beard by the roots.
Forcas: It is quite true my lord. He keeps driving his cab into the wall but it never explodes and he is always back driving in two minutes. He is very frustrated.

Sorta Osama Bin Ladin: It is a lie. I am truly Osama! Everyone acknowledges it. Just ask the American President. He will tell you it is so!

Lucifer: Who Barry? Shitfire you can’t believe anything he says. Ever since we made that deal in college after he got busted for dealing he has been a dishonest little weasel. Always trying to weasel out of the deal. That’s why I had him marry my daughter so she can torture him and keep him in line. He might be President but we own his boney ass. Com’on dude I know you are not Osama. Who are you?

Sorta Osama Bin Ladin: No it is true. I am truly Osama Bin Laden. I have the DNA's. I am heeeeee…arrrrggghhhhh(Lucifer points at him and he falls to his knee and moans in agony as white hot pain flashes through his body)

Lucifer: Seriously dude you got to give it up. Who are you really?
Sorta Osama Bin Ladin: Don’t taze me Lucifer. I will confess. I am Osama’s brother.

Lucifer: Who Darryl?

Sorta Osama Bin Ladin : No I am his other brother Darryl.
Lucifer: OK that works. I knew you had to be related cause you sorta look alike and have similar DNA and stuff. But you definitely ain’t him.
Osama’s other Brother Darryl Bin Ladin: Please stop the pain my lord. I have served you on earth and I will love to serve you in Hell. Just command me and I will do your will.
Lucifer: Ok that might be fun but you have to suffer a little first. Forcas?
Forcas: Yes my lord?
Lucifer: Take him to the Orthodox wing. Let him curl their beards and clean their beaver hats. Oh and speaking of beavers, let him wash Molly Picon’s twat. That should be punishment enough.
Forcas: I will make it so my lord.
Osama’s other Brother Darryl Bin Ladin:NOOOOOOOOO!!!! !( Two burly demons grab him by the arms and start dragging him away as several porgies and bass fall out of his burnoose)
Lucifer: I love it when a plan comes together. Now let’s start planning for Mother’s Day. It's one of my favorite days of the year. All those mothers and daughters doing my work. Groovy.

It's just like the Mafia.

So this woman came into the shop last week and spent the usual three hours trying on dresses. We were not in the store but the girls worked with her and found her a great outfit with a dress and a shrug and some Spanx that she needed to wear to a Communion. Now it wasn't like they just threw something at her, they spent hours trying different things to find the dress that flattered her shape and was what she was looking for. When she goes to pay she mentions that she is one of the owners of a restaurant that we frequent and that I have wrote about here a couple of times. I have sent a lot of people there and gone many times and spent a lot of dough. I guess she was angling for a discount which I would have been happy to give to her if I was there but my employees don't have the authority to do that except with special designated repeat customers. I was sorry but we were at a wake and we were not reachable. But I figured I would catch her the next time she was in.

Well yesterday we were at the clothing show and she comes back in to return everything. Everything. Now I don't know if she wore it and wanted to return it or if it was true that she just changed her mind. Anyway she wants to have the money refunded on her card. Now I have a strict policy just like the Mafia. Once in never out. Once I get your money I ain't giving it back. You can get a store credit to get something else but I do not refund unless there is a defect in the garment or you order it online and I don't have your size. So I never give refunds. This mookette goes "Oh I know the owner I am sure she will refund my money." So the employees call us up and we go "No everybody gets a store credit like every other boutique on Court St. No exceptions." They tell her this but she goes "Just have Lee Lee call me at the restaurant so we can talk about it."

Now this is messed up for several reasons. She is really pushing it. I mean I would pay for the dresses in one dinner at her joint. Fuck , the way I tip the tip is probably more than all the fuckin' money she just spent. She wants to hondle over a pissant little amount. I mean I took the clothes back and she can get anything she wants. And we got lots of stuff. Dresses, tops, jeans, jewelry, pocket books, candles, frames, soap, hand wash, sunglasses you fuckin' name and I got it. What the fuck. She wants to piss me off. So I don't go to her restaurant anymore? Because the wife would be uncomfortable about it. She wouldn't want to go out to eat with friends and get into a beef about this with the owner of joint. It would make everyone uncomfortable. Well except for me. I wouldn't care and I know this woman's husband who runs the restaurant would not buy into this. I am sure if her husband heard about this he would lose his fuckin' mind. I mean I have brought many people to their joint and promoted it and recommended it to a lot of people. He would flip out if he knew his wife was jeopardizing our patronage because of a piddling matter like this.

You see she thinks she is special. Hey all my customers are special. But I would rather you didn't buy anything than you buy it and return it. The credit card company charges me a fee for both your purchase and the refund on the card. So I lose money doing that. A lot of money in percentage terms. That is why all the small boutiques have the same policy. You ain't that special sweetie. Even "What Not to Wear" only gets a store credit when they buy something. Even my mother gets a store credit if she buys something. Well she would if I ever made her pay for anything but you get the idea. Jeeez what a pain in my ass.

Problems of a shopkeeper.

Naked City

At least we can dress everybody now that the paintings done.

But there are eight million stories in the Naked City.

Whose that girl....and whose that nightie

I have to go and buy clothes tomorrow and we are looking for a new sleepwear company as the one we have been using has become way too pricey.

Oh and whose that girl.

A new lunch regime is in place

We have to go back to not eating so many carbs so bread is out. I made some wraps using some great Boarshead pepper ham. I used it as a wrap and put in some fresh mozzarella and lettuce and served it to the wife for lunch today.

It was pretty tasty with some coffee before we went to the show.

Back at the show that never ends....

Well I am back at the clothing shows so I don't have a lot of time to post new stuff. It has been another very busy week and I am falling behind.

I heard that something big happened in the news but I guess I missed it. They said they found somebody big that they have been looking for a long time.

I wonder who it could be.

Fuggedaboutit

Clean up in aisle seven.....

Somebody spilled something when they dumped a big package into the ocean.

They call it splash back. So to speak.

Where have all the old people gone.....

My friend Dimitri opened up his place for a one day wine and beer license. He wants to put a wine and chees bar in there but can't seem to get it together. But he had his band play the blues and had a crew of old farts like me that know him from the Waterfront Ale house where he bartends and often plays with his band. It was great way to end the day.

Hey take a look at my Braciole!

The had the fuckin' Court St fair yesterday. I hate the fair because all I do is fight with people. They want to come in the store with food or use the bathroom and they are not really interested in buying anything. So we decided to close for the day and rest.

So of course one of our customers emails us and goes "I will be at the store at 3pm." Now we put it up on Facebook and what not but she is from Washington DC and did not have access to her computer. So we had to go in and open up just for her. Which is fine, you never turn money away. Afterward we walked the feast for a little while and talked to a bunch of people we know.

But I really wanted to rest all day and that got screwed up as usual.