Strange but true

(Famous bloggers with popular commenters a Hunt a Runt a Bint and a Bunt)
"Little People Big Ego” couple have become famous among the people all over the very limited world of the internet legal blog community. The show, “Little People Big Ego” enters its final season on 6 September 2010 so rumor is spread that the couple will go for divorce. Some fans are starting to wonder if the blogging stars wedding is on the rocks. According to some sources they are divorcing, but other sources, which are more reliable, have confirmed that they are not. The fact that bacon is no longer part of their satanic coupling is an indication that there is indeed trouble in the marriage. Currently involved in a racism festival neither midget was available for comment.

Fred Mertz.....My Hero!

So I have downloaded a few books into my kindle as I sit around waiting for the plumber to fix the toilet and the gas company to redo the pipes. Lo and behold I find a biography of one of my heroes:
Fred Mertz.

I think Fred is the perfect role model. He hated kids liked to drink and had a great sense of humor. He is my kind of guy.

I model myself on Fred.

I can't wait to learn what to do to be more like him. I already have the making fun of the beaner's down pat.

Now you can't call women Bossy!

Just to benefit Hillary's campaign. I mean girls are still stuff that Hillary did when she was growing up that made her the woman she is today!

Don't screw around with me Mr. Wu.

So last night we had a flood. There was a leak in the ceiling. I didn't know what it was for but I suspected it was from the upstairs toilet. I had a handyman guy change the flushometer and the next day there was a leak.

When we got home there was an enormous bubble in the ceiling like a big ass pimple. So we burst it and water and plaster and ceiling stuff fell down into a bin I had put under the area. I call up the landlord and he tells me he will be over tonight with his plumber.

He shows up with this Chinese guy. I have met him before. He is a former Tibetan monk. He has worked for them before. And you know what his name is.

Wu.

That's just great

They had an enormous gas explosion in the City today. A building collapsed and people got hurt. Why is that a problem for me?

The gas company is coming to repair my gas line tomorrow. We put it off for a month but they are finally scheduled to come tomorrow. This latest disaster has to make you feel good

Jeez.

They don't make realistic Western Movies anymore!

Whose that girl?

She was only in one good movie with the Duke but she played a very convincing whore who was on the wagon but still was a fun chick. Often getting the roles as battered woman at the bar that Sheree North didn't get on episodic TV during the 1970's she was a hot piece of bacala back in the day.

Often on talk shows you just wanted to stuff something in her mouth the dirty girl.

Whose that girl?

Marilyn's Diary

We never went on many vacations when I lived with Aunt Lily and Uncle Herman. Since we lived in Southern California we did touristy things. We went to Disneyland once but Uncle Herman scared the children. Well except for this one little Jewish kid named Katzenberg who wanted to take photos with Uncle Herman and kept calling him Shrek for some reason. We would go to Dodger games mainly because Uncle Herman tried out for the team. Oh and Grandpa was a really, really good friend with Sandy Koufax. He used to sleep over all the time. He even stayed in the same coffin with Grandpa which was kind of weird.

Our favorite place to go was SeaWorld. We were there so often that they even filmed a commercial for the theme park. Uncle Herman loved to swim with the dolphins. Aunt Lily was a succubus so she was very comfortable in the water. The only problem was my filthy cousin Eddie. He spent all of his time in the garbage can in the Ladies room hoping to see women pee. He was a crazy little freak.

I always was interested in the sea. I loved salty things. That is why I loved it when Uncle Herman would come into my room late at night and he would stick his thing in my mouth and this delicious salty cu....errr.....I loved my Uncle Herman.

We make plans and God laughs

So what are the two things I hate most in life?

Skinny pretentious cunts and French People.

So naturally the wife decides we have to open a lingerie store in our back space. It is going to have a French theme and lingerie for all sizes including the skinny twats. When we were at the Curve show we bought a bunch of stuff that we have to get ready. I am going to do renovations on the back store. New iron gate that you can see through at night. New shelving and painting and wallpapering. A new dressing room in the back store. Tons of shit we have to do.

It never ends.

It's great and all but a hell of a lot of work. I just want to sit on the porch and listen to the ball game and work on my writing. But I have too much to do.

Keeping your ear to the ground and getting it cut off

I have been pretty busy lately as a lot of stuff is happening. We had been indecisive as to whether or not we were going to stay in New York. Or move to a new space. I managed to negotiate a pretty decent deal for my current space so it looks like we are staying put for the next five years.

We had a meeting at the store to sign the lease and pay the bribes we needed to keep the space. Everything went swimmingly as we paid the price and all was well. I haven't had a chance to chat with them for over a year  and we had a chance to catch up.

These guys are old line Mafia. The real mafia not the bullshit Mafia. I was asking them about Casa Rosa the restaurant on the corner.

You might remember that I had a beef with the owner and have not been going there for the past three years. Well he passed away this past September while I was on the cruise and I got sick so I didn't have a chance to get to talk to the family or anything. It seems their lease was up and they got tossed at the end of January. Now I heard that this Jewish lady had bought the building for about 3 mill. She was a restaurateur and she planned to bring one of her joints to that spot. Well for some reason she decided that she wasn't going to do that. I wonder why?

My landlord told me that Markey who owns the fancy pizzeria on Summit St that Beyoncé loves was interested in the space (pictured serving his kid and her school friends in the pizzeria). But he didn't want to pay the $14,000 a month that the lady was asking. Now Markey was the guy who got stabbed at Joes Superette a couple of years ago supposedly over a woman by Bennie who is connected with the guys at the Bagel store who are a Genovese crew. It seems that they are having an ongoing beef. Markey is with the Colombos and has one of them with a no show job there. Anyway now Bennie is taking to robbing the pizzeria when Markey or the Colombo guy is not there. He is just walking in with a piece and taking everything out of the register. Now it hasn't been in the news because nobody is reporting anything. Bennie is locked about something else right now so they are all laying low. They are supposedly going to have a sit down soon or they are going to take care of it themselves one way or another. In any event I am not going to buy any bagels or pizza anytime soon. Not that it matters. I can't eat that shit anyway anymore so who gives shit. It is just good to know what is going on so I am not in the wrong place at the wrong time so to speak.

The downside is that the lady who bought Casa Rosa is no looking to sell it as she was "encouraged" not to put her restaurant in that space. That means the block will be dead going into the spring. If Markey can pull it off and transfer his restaurant that will help me a lot. The pretentious cunts who go there are the perfect customers for my new lingerie store. So lets hope they sort that out soon.

Now I will have to concentrate on renovations to the back store. I am going to be on busy motherfucker.

Lilyhammer is a pretty funny show.

I am enjoying it on Net Flicks. It is one of these neat little series that Net Flicks is producing like "Orange is the New Black" and "House of Cards." Net Flicks originals that are worth the subscription price alone without any of the other stuff you get access to for the same price.

Hat tip to Windbag for remembering this!

There is a reason why I don't have a radio show

Every night after we come home from the store we divide up the chores. The wife goes and sets up her computer and answers the emails and problems that we didn't have time to take care of during the day. She usually sets that upstairs in the office. I go down to the kitchen and cook dinner. Now I like to listen to the radio while I am cooking. Normally I put on WFAN to hear sports talk or I would put on the Yankees during the baseball season. But now they only have on fucking hockey and shit so I usually put on WABC which is the conservative talk radio station. So the other day Lisa came downstairs early and got to listen to Mark Levin in full rant.

She started laughing when Mark was describing Harry Reid getting up to speak in the Senate and looking for his teeth to put in while he spoke. She said "This is like listening to you." I said "I wouldn't last a day on the radio before the pussies that run it would fire me."

You see I was listening to WFAN the sports station and they had this jerk-off liberal cunt Richard Neer pontificating his politically correct bullshit. You had to listen to his nonsense about Richie Incognito and the gay football player. Now he is all over instant replay for baseball. Even worse today he was praising sabremetrics as determining how to play the game. What crock of shit. That is revenge of the fucking nerds. It is making the kids who were the managers of the high school team be in charge of evaluating talent instead of the kids who play and who know how to play. For all of the nonsense about Money Ball the fucking A's only won because they were juicing it up. How the fuck did they measure that in their fucking statistics.

What really cheeses me off is why doesn't anybody call these dumb fucks out on what they used to preach. Neer was a DJ on WNEW back in the day when it was the "progressive rock and roll" station that led the charge for "No Nukes." He lead the charge to get us to get rid of our nukes. How the fuck did that work out for the people in Eastern Europe when the Russian Bear is awake again and looking to eat. Don't you think that the Polacks and even the Germans might think that the American Nuclear umbrella and anti-ballistic missile defense might be a good idea. Why don't the no nukes fucks tell us what we are going to do when the towel heads and the Korean gooks and the commies in Venuzula get nukes? WHAT ABOUT THAT YOU FUCKIN' LIBERAL CUNTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is a reason why I don't have a radio show.

Reason Number 895 to hate Chris Christie

So I was sitting on the toilet for my morning sequester drinking some coffee and reading the newspaper with the sports station WFAN on in the background. They have a great show on Sunday morning called "Talking Baseball with Ed Randall" where they talk about what is happening in Spring Training. But there was something very annoying going on besides the coverage of the Mets.

It seemed that every other commercial was a snappy little number promoting on-line gambling run by Caesars Palace for the residents of New Jersey. It was a tune set to "Luck be A Lady" with a Frank Sinatra clone singing about on-line gambling in New Jersey. Now I know a lot about gambling. I used to gamble a bit back in the day. Maybe more than a bit. But I are fully apprised of the damage it does to people. I know people who have literally lost everything because of gambling. Their house, their family, their job. Just about everything.

The one thing that saves many people from destruction is that it is not easy to gamble your life away unless you go to a Casino. I mean you can buy lottery tickets but it is a lot different than sitting at the blackjack table or roulette wheel for hours at a time until you lose everything. Now they are incessantly pimping gambling on your phone? Have you ever seen these idiots playing Candy Crush or Angry Birds on their Ipad or Iphone? What if they could gamble on the phone? They are going to the poorhouse on the express bus.

Christie signed on to this. I mean seriously what the fuck is he thinking. Sure the state gets some money but it is destroying so many lives. Why don't they just open up shops to sell Meth and Heroin? What the fuck?

There is one thing you will know for sure. No fucking idiot in the mainstream lap dog media will ever ask a question about this. They don't live in the real world with real problems. They will obsess about a stupid fucking traffic jam but not mention a change that will destroy innumerable families.

Thanks Sixty.....you really get me!

I think chickie is right.

I know that there is some speculation that the denizens of Mordor have a window into what we are doing here. Chickie has long said that he things that they have someone reporting back to the Lidless Eye. But it can be a two way street.

I have a lurker who sends me emails about what is going on over there. This is from the latest report today:

"You are not going to believe it Jim. There are posts referencing pacemakers, fat guys, Japan, Fashion in Japan and baseball. Now not all of the them are digs at you but some of them must be."

I have been strong lately as I have not been over there or at Cracks for more than a month. I want to keep that up. I have been very busy lately and don't have enough time to keep up with my own blog so I don't care about what goes on there. Dropping comments at Lem's is enough for me. Especially  when Chickie and Michael Haz and Lem put up great threads as they have done lately. So it's all good.

But you have to laugh.

I am glad I didn't watch the Oscars

It just got too weird for me.

Whose that girl?

She was a very hot star back in the day. They even called her a star. She worked in a field that has become very popular these days in New York. Even though they have broad support....well among men anyway.

She doesn't have a fan or a snake or even a G-string but she remained the belle of the ball.

Whose that girl?

For Chickie

Humble Pie acoustic.

Get Off of My Lawn!!!!!!!!

I hate kids. They are such a pain in the ass. With their snotty noses and grubby fingers. Always with the poop and the piss in their pants. Get outa here for crying at loud.

The only problem is that the little bastards always love me. As do the Moms. They just hand me the snot nosed fuckers and I have to hold them and amuse them while they are shopping. I think they see a big fat fuck with a white beard and they think I am Santa Claus or something.

One of the girls from the neighborhood came in with Stella who reached with her chubby arms that she wanted me to hold her while Mommy got her Spanks. She knows two words. "Hi" and "Happy Birthday." Well maybe three words. So we had to amuse ourselves while Mommy shopped. "What are we never going to get Stella?" "Hi." "Right. Remember that."

Matsui Mania

There used to be a bar next to the one that the wife managed that had this promotion called Matsui Mania. There were two Matsui's in New York baseball at the time. The great Hideki Matsui of the New York Yankees and the hapless Kazuo Matsui who played second base for the worthless New York Mets. Well anytime one of the Matsui's hit a home run everyone in the bar got a free drink! So the Yankees Matsui was a hell of a lot more popular. At least with the drunks on Eight Avenue.

I had to do something to impress the Japs about my multicultural bona fides. So I went to my Bobble Head collection at home and brought my Hideki Matsui Bobble Head to the store and put it in a prominent location where they could see it. They were suitably impressed.

Of course I had to hide the giant stuffed Godzilla doll I had that I used to throw at Mayumi when she worked for me and fucked something up.

You can't win them all.

Problems of a shopkeeper

We have been trying to source out fabric that need for the spring line and for fall orders that we are trying to wholesale. Now we buy a lot of fabric in California at a much lower price. The problem is that the person getting our swatches has very bad taste and always picks crap. What happens all the time is that she sends us a photo and we say "That's shit but the role in the corner sixth from the left we want." Of course by that time it is gone. You snooze you loose.

Buying in New York is much better because we can make the decision right then and there. So we have been shopping the last couple of weeks and shipping either to the Brooklyn Factory or to California. Yesterday we went in to this shop we have been purchasing from and put in a big order. Or at least what is a big order for us. Most of it was right there but we bough a couple of fabrics off of headers. A header is a big swatch that lets you see the texture and the "hand" or feel of the fabric, the stretch whether it is two way or four way and the "repeat" which is how the print repeats on the fabric as it would be in a dress or top. We find this great fabric that we really liked off of the header and order five hundred yards. The owner told us she just got it in this week. So I pay and they were going to wrap it up and mail it to California today. Then I got a phone call.

It seems she doesn't have the fabric I already paid for. She had sold it to someone else already. Now I am not worried about getting a refund. I can always get that from the credit card company. It is the fact that she wasted our time in the store and later making cutting tickets for clothing based on this fabric. A huge fucking waste of time. We are getting our refund and never working with her again.

What is even more amusing is the conversation I had with Omar our car service guy. He was waiting around all day for us while we were shopping and stuff. He is from Bangladesh and so are the people that run the store. In the summer when I was picking up fabric he was jabbering away with some of the workers in the store in Hindi or whatever the fuck they talk. He told me I should let him go in there and negotiate for him. I told him I had a problem. I didn't know the proper insult to call the guy. I mean he is not an Indian so I can't call him a dot head. He isn't black so I can't call him a moolie. We decided that the best way to go is wog but that is just not satisfying enough. I feel like Alec Guinness or Michael Caine or some such shit.

I need to figure it out for the next time I go back there.

Doc Holiday Must Die

Doc and Hardin walked over to the Drover’s Cottage to have dinner. They took a table at the back in the corner where each could put their backs to the wall and look out over the dining room. They ordered the special. Fried potatoes. Beans. Huge steaks. Blood rare and juicy. Fresh Texas beef that had been driven up the trail to the railroad. Adeline was at its height. A short season in the sun until the railroad built a spur closer to the trail.

They had a great deal in common. Both were Southerners. Too young to serve in the Civil War they still had the attitudes common to young men from that section of the country. They had no love for the Union, Yankees, the government or blacks.  They sat quietly and enjoyed their repast. Two deadly men not afraid to break bread.

“What made you decide to ride up the trail John Wesley” asked Holliday? “I wouldn’t think riding herd would be something that would interest you.” “Why would you say that John. Not to say that you are wrong. Following a cows behind and eating his dust is not what I would call fun. I just needed to get out of Texas. It was getting too hot for me at home.” “I know the feeling. Sometimes that’s just the way the cards fall. You can rest for a while. Hickok seems to like you so that is something to hold on to. In another town the Marshal might just want to try you to get himself a reputation.”

“I wish I had an occupation I could call my own like you John. As a dentist you can set up shop anywhere. I taught school for a while. And I enjoyed it. I just don’t think anyone will want a gunman as an instructor any time soon. So I have to find something to do. Gambling is fun but it seems too chancy to me.” “You can say that for certain sure. I don’t want to depend on gambling but it sure beats working as a dentist. I just don’t know if I can resist the charms of the poker table.”

Two boisterous Yankees walked into the restaurant. You could tell they were Yankees because they were wearing remnants of Union uniforms. They pushed past the waiter and flopped into seats directly across from the two gunmen who looked at them with the unflinching eyes of the predator. They didn’t know what they had walked into.

“Say Waiter service before I bust up this shithole” shouted one of the miscreants in a Boston accent as thick as his head while he banged on the table. “Food now. Drink. Bring us a bottle right now you shit kicker.” His friend just laughed and rubbed himself through the crotch of his worn cavalry uniform pants. They were lucky that there were no women in the restaurant as several of the men who were dining would not have stood for that sort of talk in the presence of ladies. Since it was only men they could turn to their plates and not get involved. Until they pushed it.

One of them looked over at Hardin and Holliday through bleary eyes that were dulled by drink. He decided that Hardin was a callow youth who was ripe for some abuse. A big mistake.

“Look at this Josiah. A real life cowboy. Must be from Texas like all these god damn cows that are shitting everywhere. Say boy where you from?” “From Texas friend and I would appreciate it if you let me enjoy me meal without interruption” said John Wesley Hardin in a surprisingly calm voice. Anyone who could measure danger would step lightly but this fool was oblivious.

“Enjoy your meal you Texas shitkicker. I bet you were a Johnny Reb. No you’re too young for that. Maybe your old daddy was. Or was he home fucking his slaves like all you dirty Rebs?” His friend snorted his whiskey that he was guzzling. “Maybe we fucked his Mama when we were down in Texas Cyrus.  We had us a fine old time with Governor Davis’s police.”

John Wesley Hardin didn’t reply. He froze for a moment and then stood up and put his hands on the Colts that were into his vest. The butts of his pistols pointed inward across his chest. He crossed his arms to draw but waited until the two drunks realized what was happening. He could not just shoot them down. That was a recipe for a rope.

The two drunks went for their guns. They both drew their weapons but to no avail. Hardin shot one of them through the mouth and blasted his brains out the back of his head all over the wall. He shot the second one through eye. In fact he shot his eye out. But not before he managed to get a shot off. Where he shot Doc.

Doc had risen when Hardin did and got out his pistol just as quickly but was shot in the arm before he could pull the trigger. Doc was not particularly fast with a pistol. He was just not afraid to die. That made him deadly.

“So much for that” said John Wesley. He looked over at Doc. “You’re hit John. We best go to the doctor. These poor fools are not in need of his services.” “Let me tie it off John Wesley. It is not too bad he only winged me. Missed the bone Thank the Lord.” Doc stripped his cravat and tied it two inches above the wound. A bystander came over and tightened it for him. “Thank you sir” said Holliday “I am much obliged.” “Let’s go John before Hickok gets here. I don’t want to wait to talk to him until the doctor gets a look at you.” They walked out into the street. Hardin with the heat of two barrels on his vest. Holliday with an arm dripping blood. He chuckled without any amusement in his voice.

“I hope that whore can sew. I am running out of clothes.”

Whose that girl playing with Lamb Chop?

She is not a puppeteer because she was always spaced out. Sometimes she was just lost. But she loved to play with her Lamb chop and rubbed it all the time. So to speak.

Just know that she will go into danger with a smile.

Whose that girl?

Knish poetry with Mustard on the side.

And if you ever reconsider
you will get no chicken dinner

And if there is a place in time
you will not find not foot nor rhyme

And do come now I won't be long
for I am late to ring my gong

And don't you waste your good knish
or I will cut you like a snitch

So write your books and read your poem
oh that is Bob I hardly know 'em

 

We have been super busy

Last week we were at market to purchase a bunch of new product for the store. We got a shit pot full of Spanx which as you can see was just delivered. These are the body shaping garments that are so popular for women to wear under their clothing. We also order a bunch of new bras and panties that will come in the next couple of days.

There are about five hundred pieces in that shipment. They all have to counted, checked in and price. Then we have to display to our advantage to get people to come in to purchase. It might take a couple of days.

Just to make it more complicated we went to buy more fabric today and ship it to California. We had to pick out what we liked and negotiate the price. It was non-stop the past week.

Whose that Girl?

 

She looks like she could be suddenly seeking Susan but that was not her time. She is a pure as New York snow and she would roll like dice until you come up blue.

 

All the boys thinks she is a spy but you can tell she is not by her eyes. Whose that girl?

 

I always schedule it wrong!!

At the risk of displaying my  psychological problems I have to post a photo of my lunch at Ben's Kosher Deli last week. I fucked up. Again.

I am going this Friday for an echo cardiogram and I ate out three times last week. We had Thai food one night and Marco Polo another. Then we went for lunch on Friday at Ben's so I got a full complement of bad foods in my gut. I hope that doesn't screw up my numbers. I don't think it will. I have been pretty careful the rest of the time so lets hope I get a good report.

Let me tell you it was great. I had a big bowl of matzo ball soup and then a pastrami on rye. And they were the first ones to get back the square Knishes that have been missing for months because of a strike at the factory. Man eating that Knish was better than eating ice cream.

"GO GET A HAIRCUT!"

No that's not what Archie said to the Meathead. That was my wife yelling at me today. You see I have naturally curly hair and the wife hates it when it gets too long. So she sends me out to get it cut. She is getting her hair cut tomorrow and I hate to tell you how much that is going to cost. We are going to the City to get it done and she wanted me to get my hair cut there. NO WAY!

I can't justify spending that kind of money on a haircut. I got my same seventies razor cut the Damien used to give to Scott Baio back in the day. Drives her crazy. Which is a feature not a bug. But I am not going to pay a ten times more to get my hair cut in the City.

The Summer of Boo Boo

Brother Bear really changed after his parents sent him off to camp. You see he was getting weirder and weirder because Mama Bear kept taunting him and flaunting her body. So Papa felt he had to send us away while he went off with the circus. He couldn't leave Brother alone with Mama Bear. Who knows what dirty things could have happened.

Papa Bear had his own problems. You see he was a bear supremacist which is funny because he wasn't even a polar bear and they are the only white ones. But since we were gingers we could pass. So he sent us off to this German Summer Camp in Wisconsin. It was run by a nurse named Inga who had some very strange ideas. She was an immigrant from Austria who claimed she came to America for political asylum. But she seemed like she would have fit right in. She was a totalitarian, dressed in black with a deaths head insignia and she hated Jews. She claimed that she married one but we all thought she just did that to torture him.

When Brother Bear came back he was really screwed up. He would mumble to himself at his job at the post office. He would only eat pork. And he kept repeating the same thing to himself over and over again. "Stacy is a whore. Stacy is a whore."

We had no idea what it meant. But we knew it wasn't good. Especially for Stacy.
(Stan and Jan Berenstain "Son of Boo Boo", The E True Hollywood Story of the Berenstain Bears)

Whose that girl?

She don't look like it but she was a showgirl. A great singer who could really shake her booty the song about was a lot more famous than she was in her own career. She was Beyoncé before there was a Beyoncé. They had approximately the same level of talent. But she had a much worse pr department.

Whose that showgirl?

Joey Gallo's Lament

Joey Gallo sat in the back of the social club on President St with his brothers, Joe Jelly, Slappy and Sammy the Syrian. They were the brain trust of the crew. Such as it was. Well really Larry was the brains of the operation. Joey was the balls. Albert was the wild card.

“So are we ready or what” Joey asked? He directed it to Larry who had planned out the whole operation. “As ready as we are gonna be Joe” said Larry. “We are gonna grab them all at the same time. First we grab the old man when comes out of the liquor distributorship. Then that fat fuck Joe Mamaluk we grab outside of the Blarney Rose after he picks up his collections. A little bonus.  Then maybe Colombo when he is coming out of the Real Estate. We hit them all at the same time.” “That’s a lot a shit flying at the same time” Slappy rasped in his gravelly voice. He had been hit in the throat so many times he sounded like he was chewing rocks when he talked. “How the fuck we gonna pull this shit off? Do we even have enough bodies to pull this off?”

Larry sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I think we will be fine. Joe and me will grab the old man. He’s the most important. Slappy you and Sammy and Louie grad Joe Mamaluk and Joe Jelly grabs that greasy prick Colombo. Take Bobby B and Salvatore with you.  If there anybody with them you grab them up too. We have enough firepower to do it. None of them have the balls to fight it out. Except for the old man and he is old. Too old to be carrying a piece and too slick to get caught. So it should all go fine. We grab them up and take them to the factory down Lorraine Street like I told youse yesterday.”

“Sounds good to me” Joe said. He sipped at his espresso. “We do it tomorrow. We meet back here at noon to get ready. We hit them all around six. It has to be at the same time. But we grab the old man first. The others don’t mean a shit. The old man would sell his own son for a fuckin’ nickel. So we have to make sure we grab him up before the shit hits the fan.”

Bobby B sauntered into the club and walked up to the table. “Joey that mick fuck Kelly is sitting his ass outside in his car with that pig fucking partner of his. They have been there for an hour. At least.” “Fuck” Joey said. “That’s gonna be a problem. If he is staking us out how the fuck are we gonna pull this off? We need to get him off my ass.” Larry shook his head. “We don’t need this shit. We need a diversion or some shit like that there.” “How about we fuck him up? He ain’t going anywhere with a busted jaw” Slappy said. “I can just walk up behind him and sock him one. He will never know what hit him.” That was Slappy’s solution for everything. A sock in the jaw. Or a bullet.

“We ain’t gonna do that. We gotta be fucking suckle” said Joe Jelly. “You mean subtle you simple fuck” said Larry. “But for a babbo you still ain’t wrong. Hey isn’t that kid I gave the bag too the cops nephew or some shit?” “Cousin” said Joey. “But he is a good kid. I don’t want to fuck with him. We can find another way. Let me think about it for a minute.” “I got it. He has a bug up his ass about that mook Tringale. So let’s give him something on that. We get a mope to call him and tell him he got some information and that he wants to talk to him so he don’t have to skip town. Let him pretend to drop a dime and get that Mick fuck offa our ass.” “That could work” Larry said. “Who ya thinking?” “I got just the guy” said Slappy.

You had to pity the dumb fuck that he picked.

Whose that girl?

She was a young girl who would not have been out of place in "House of Cards" because her cooze could bring down the house. So to speak.

She got in a lot of trouble because of a Wee Willie because she was the girl that you would always say "I'd hit that."

Who is that pale Anglo Saxon wench?

Dreaming.....

When I met you in the restaurant
You could tell I was no debutante
You asked me what's my pleasure
A movie or a measure?
I'll have a cup of tea and tell you of my dreaming
Dreaming is free
I don't want to live on charity
Pleasure's real or is it fantasy?
Reel to reel is living rarity
People stop and stare at me We just walk on by - we just keep on dreaming
Feet feet, walking a two mile
Meet meet, meet me at the turnstile
I never met him, I'll never forget him

Dream dream, even for a little while
Dream dream, filling up an idle hour
Fade away, radiate

I sit by and watch the river flow
I sit by and watch the traffic go
Imagine something of your very own
Something you can have and hold

I'd build a road in gold just to have some dreaming
Dreaming is free
Dreaming
Dreaming is free
Dreaming
Dreaming is free

Marilyn's Diary

Uncle Herman and Aunt Lily were very social. They loved to have family over to visit. Whenever anyone came to Southern California Aunt Lily insisted that they would stay with us.

I remember when our cousin Gill was visiting us. He hailed from the Black Lagoon. You know Detroit. He was visiting because he had an audition at Warner Brothers.

The funny thing that cousin Gill was one of Aunt Lily's old boyfriends and she was very excited to see him. Now you might think it weird that they were first cousins and had a wild affair but monsters often loved and married their close family members. Because if they got married had kids and they turned out to be monsters....well that would be all right. So it opened up the dating pool and it seemed that Aunt Lily loved to dip her toe in. She wanted to spend lots of time with cousin Gill and she took him all around. Uncle Herman didn't care. While they were out he could come up to my room and we would make wild crazy monster love. It was one of our best bouts of lovemaking in the entire time I lived at the Munster Mansion.

Later that night we said goodbye to Cousin Gill. When he kissed me goodbye his breath really smelled like fish. But that was fine.

You see so did Uncle Herman.

I love my Uncle Herman.

Betty Rubble is a dirty girl

Betty gets it.

Betty gets it good.

Betty likes it.

Betty likes it good and hard.

Because Betty Rubble is a dirty girl.

Reason 895 why I should move out of Brooklyn

We had to go to the store today on our day off because we were getting big deliveries. I have the UPS guy trained to call me when this happens. If I miss the delivery it goes back in the system and gets tossed around and half the time it gets fucked up. It is easier all around to just go to the store and get it and give the guy a tip so I can my stuff before it gets squashed in the sorter.

Anyway we get the stuff and start to walk home and who do we meet in front of the coffee shop? Agent Van Allen. You will remember when he stopped by the store to buy a scarf a couple of months ago. Well he has updated his look since then.

That day he looked like a homeless person. Sweatpants under shorts with a hoodie in freezing cold weather. If anything it is even colder today. He was wearing a flimsy coat with no buttons and Chuck Taylor All Stars with no laces. Oh and he had a huge motorcycle chain around his neck. You the ones that you use to stop people from stealing your motorcycle. Oh and he dyed his hair Marilyn Monroe blond.

Now you know me. I am a friendly guy. So I go "How you doing Mike?"  He replied "grunting something undecipherable." "Yeah Dude I bet I am going to see you on the Oscars next year." "More muttering nonsense that I can't hear." Under my breath "In the "In Memoriam" Section with Betty White and Jared Leto." "WHAT?" "Good luck buddy see you around."

I gotta get out of here. I can't keep running into crazy famous people. I would rather run into run of the mill crazy people like Sixty Grit or Icepick. Crazy famous people just have too much of a sense of entitlement.

Doc Holliday Must Die

Doc felt soiled. Both in his person and in his soul. He changed took his other change of business clothes and walked out of the hotel. He headed down to the barbershop to see about getting cleaned up. He had a name as being fastidious. Which meant that he took a bath more than once a month.

The barber was working on a cowboy in his chair. His establishment reeked of witch hazel and soap. He had a straight razor in his hand as he shaved off the trail dust that had accumulated during the drive up from Texas. The barber looked up and said “Be right with you sir. If you take a seat.” “I was hoping to see about a bath first. And to get my clothes laundered if I could?” “Surely that will not be a problem. You can step through the door into the alley. The bathhouse is directly across the road. I will send someone to bring you the hot water and take your clothes. It might take a while though as it would have to dry.” “I have a fresh set of possibles partner so that won’t be a problem.”

Doc walked through the door and into the alley. He saw a door directly across which was open. He could see the tubs sitting on a platform. He walked in. Shut the door and started to take off his clothes. They were stained. Stained with blood from his dentistry. Stained with his shame from his bad behavior. He had let evil companions lead him astray. Once again. He wondered who had paid. It must have been Hickok. Or maybe he didn’t pay at all. He could have his throat slit and would not have even known it. Guess his luck had held once again.  

The door opened and a young colored boy came in with a bucket of hot water that he poured into the tub. It would take a while to fill the tub. Doc sat in his breeches and took his pistol and put it close to hand. It was best to be prepared for the worst. Not that anyone in this town had it in for him. Yet. But you never know what might happen. 

Once the tub was finally filled, Doc gingerly slid into it slowly so as not to burn anything important. He took the rough soap and the almost as rough wash cloth and started to soap himself up. The door opened again and Doc dropped the soap and put his hand on his Colt. It was a young woman all covered up so he could not see her face. She went to his soiled clothing and picked them up as she turned her shawl slid down just enough to show her face. It was the Chinee whore. She looked at him briefly without expression and then fled through the door with his clothes. Life was full of surprises.

 

After finishing his ablutions, Doc dressed slowly and thoughtfully. He had been off kilter since he had arrived in this town. There were too many cross currents blowing like the bitter winds of the Kansas plains that you struggled in when you walked the filth strewn streets. He had to get a better grip or he would be blown away. 

Doc walked back to the barbershop and saw that the chair was empty. The barber beckoned to the chair as he held a cloth ready to tie around his neck. Doc sat and the barber started his work. He began to trim his hair as Doc gazed into the mirror over on the wall opposite the chair. A bell rang as the door opened and Doc put his hand on his piece. He saw in the mirror that it was John Wesley Hardin.

“How do John” said the young gunman. “I see great minds follow the same trails. Thought I might get prettified before the evening’s festivities.” “Hello John Wesley.” “Didn’t see you at the Bullshead last night. Is there another place that is more fun? I wouldn’t mind changing it up since I am a little tired of Ben Thompsons hints.” “It wasn’t anyplace better John Wesley. I was just resting so to speak. I reckon I might go back to the Bullshead tonight. Mike Williams asked me to meet the Marshal there tonight. I am a man of my word.” 

The barber proceeded to shave Doc and he looked at John Wesley Hardin in the mirror. “I know you track what Ben is aiming at. Hickok is not looking for a fight. Not with you at any rate. I can tell you that for certain sure.” “How would you know that John? I reckon I can surmise it as well but I can’t be sure.” “Well I am. Hickok told me his ownself. He is not one to lie. At least about something like that. He is the type that would come right at you. Just the way he is going at Phil Coe. That will not end well if I have to bear witness.” “Fair enough John that is good to know. I reckon you are a man of experience in these matters. Or so I hear. So I will take your advice.” “That would be good John Wesley. Tell you what. I will hang on here to you are finished and we can go get a bit of supper. Then we can go to Bullshead together and keep each other out of trouble.”

 

I really hate the Oscar's......

But my wife loves them. She was watching them in the other room and tweeting up a storm.

How do I get dragged into this stuff?

Relatively almost not quite back to normal

The Japanese buyers did not leave until about ten o'clock at night. It was like old times where we worked late and I was too tired to cook. So we decided to eat out because I was not up to cooking. We decided to go to Marco Polo for the first time since I got sick.

The guys at Marco Polo were great when I was sick. The owner Joe called me every day I was in the hospital and offered to come get me and put me in a better hospital. The waiters all stopped by the store to see how I was doing. I have seen them here and there in the interim but I have not gone back in.

As soon as I went in every waiter had to kiss me like I was their father. See what good tipping will get you? I guess they really missed me. Ha.

Anyway we had a nice meal. Some hot anti paste that I had with Nick and Leslyn when they came to Brooklyn. Stuffed mushrooms, Eggplant Rollatini and mozzarella in carrozza. Tasty.

Melissa ordered the fettuccini in the cheese wheel that we all love so much and Marco cooked it up under her supervision.

Me? I wanted my steak.

Sorry but I couldn't wait for Lisa to take the photo. I was just too freakin' hungry. They make it in this great rosemary garlic sauce that is to die for. Literally. I can't eat like this every day. Even every month. But once in a while for a celebration I can have a taste.

All and all I was one happy dude. Made a big deal. Didn't have my heart explode. Got to eat a steak.

Life is good.

Freckles and foolish

Even when they are dead.

Boston still sucks. Croaking doesn't change that.

We used to have Bishops like this.....Not anymore

Orthodox Archbishop Clement of the Ukraine stood in front of a military base to put his body between his people and the Russian invaders. A man of courage and integrity.

The Catholic church had leaders like that once. People like Bishop Hughes of New York who led the Irish workingman in the fight against the government in the 1800's. He was the type of man who would be out front protecting our values and our faith. Not the milquetoast types we have today. Who can't even stand up to a thug like Andy Cuomo who says there is no place for observant Catholics in New York State.

I salute Archbishop Clement. I will pray for him and his people. I don't think there is much that the US can do for the people of the Ukraine. We are led by a freckles and foolish coward and there is nothing to be done. People will die. Freedom will be extinguished. At best we could offer sanctuary to those who flee the destruction.

Fuck you Pedro

Merry Christmas Mr. Warwence.......

When we put it out there in the atmosphere that we were doing wholesale we never expected that we would get a response so soon!

About two weeks ago I got a call out of the blue that a major Japanese department store wanted to buy our clothes. They wanted to come to our store during market week to put in an order. This is the department store which is sort of equivalent to Barneys or Saks.

We didn't know what to expect and we have been working feverishly to prepare. Making samples. Line sheets. Preparations. We pulled an all nighter to get ready. But we had no idea.

When they came in they loved everything. They said they wanted to start small. But they ordered 21 different items. Smaller quantities but still it is a foot in the door. The hope is that we can sell out in thirty days and they will want to really increase their order for next spring. It is all so absolutely positive that it is unbelievable.

Now we have to produce the clothing. That won't be the problem.

I think it was all because of the Hideki Matsui Bobble Head doll I had on my desk. Just sayn'

I took care of that thing you asked me for Spinellli

I know it gets really cold in Madison in the winter so I got you some coverage.

Other wise you would look like a little girl in the cold box of Costco. Just sayn'

I didn't know what a selfie was.....

I thought it meant whacking off.

That I know how to do.

Taking photos? Not so much.

Three days of looking at models in panties......

Is enough to tucker anyone out.

We had to spend the time purchasing a bunch of lingerie and new bras as we are expanding our lingerie department to cover all sizes.

Now we are remaining only a plus size store as far as clothing is concerned but everyday skinny bitches come in asking for Spanx or what size the Prima Donna Bras that we have in the window. You have to adapt with the times. So since I have so many skinny twats asking for it you have to give it to them. So I bought about ten grand worth of Spanx that I bet I can turn over in about a month. Two at most. Once it starts to get warmer these girls will be on the prowl. We also got a shit load of other popular brands like Hanky Panky, Commando and Greiner. A bunch of new bra accecsories such as extenders and strap cushions and what not. New soft cup t-shirt bras for the itty bitty titty contingent. Lot's of stuff that I can turn around.

Plus other great stuff that happened. So I was pretty freaking busy.

I have to throw you a Curve Ball

Or play with my curve balls. Or something.

I will be at the Curve show the next two days. That is where we order lingerie and bras and what not. I have to sit there while models show us the bras and stuff we are going to purchase.

This year we decided to open up our inventory to all sizes not just plus. You see the girls who come into the store because of the bras we have in the window. So we are going to have stuff to sell.

Then we have a huge meeting on Wednesday which is very important.

So I have to let Doc and Joey hang out for a while without me. Sorry.

Chip's favorite song

Marilyn's Diary

My Aunt Lily and Uncle Herman had a healthy sex life when I first moved in with them after my parents were lost in that unfortunate incident with the villagers with the torches and pitchforks back in the old country. They would go behind closed doors and I heard the screams and groans and roars that would shake the walls.

But they started to get bored after 350 years and Uncle Herman began to sneak into my room. Aunt Lily started to get more and more into drugs and alcohol and it made it easy for him to sneak into my room. Sometimes he would just leave his detachable penis so she could amuse herself. She wouldn't even notice that he was gone.

Uncle Herman had two detachable penises. Or peni I guess you would call them. You see his doctor back in Germany believed in redundancy. So he made sure Uncle Herman had some spare parts that came in handy over the years. He had six eyes, fourteen fingers, seven ears and of course two penises. So he was able to leave one with Aunt Lily when he would sneak into my room.

Once Uncle Herman left us to move in with Carol Herman back in New York he took all of his spares with him. Including his penises. But a funny thing happened. They eventually moved to Wisconsin where Carol started a blog and Uncle Herman walked borrowed dogs. But I heard he lost one of his penises. Actually it was stolen. The rumor is that it was stolen by a private investigator who broke into their house during a stake out and made off with one of the penises.

So Uncle Herman had to go back to using a candle as a substitute.

Life is strange in Wisconsin.

Joey Gallo's Lament

Joey Gallo squinted at me as he held his Lucky Strike in two fingers. He flicked it into the street. “Hey kid come over here for a minute” he said. Joe Jelly just kept sucking on his cig and rubbing his stomach. He rubbed himself more than most pregnant women. Of course his belly was bigger and full of jelly.

I had no choice so I went to stand over by them. The strangest things go through your mind when you're scared shitless. I could smell Mrs. Catrupie’s sauce bubbling away on the stove from the window above our heads. In those days on your way home you would smell the Sunday sauce cooking as you walked along the street. If you had an educated sniffer you even knew what they put in it. If it was Sicilian or Neapolitan or Barresi. Did she use basil or fresh oregano? Pork or just beef? The sauce you were seeking was blowing in the wind.

That wouldn’t help me. If Joey wanted to throw me a beating I had to take it. And not say shit. I couldn’t have my family go after him. They wouldn’t go to the cops. My uncles might try to get even. I know they worked with some of the Genovese guys over on Pier Seven. Or even worse me Da. Or worst of all my Grand Uncle Liam on my father’s side of the family. Jeez. That would be bad. I would just have to take my beating like a man. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Don’t worry kid I ain’t pissed at you” Joey said. “Am I Joe” he asked Joe Jelly. “Nah the kid is alright for half a mick. It’s his fucking cousin that is a pain in the balls.” “Listen I know you were in the cops covering for that little shit Little Joe whacking his bag looking at some skank. So no sweat offa my balls. Just remember to keep your mouth shut about our thing capicé?” “Sure thing Mr. Gallo. I didn’t say anything. I just brought it to the club just like you said.” “Did you look in the bag kid” asked Joe Jelly with what he thought was a menacing look on his face. It would be almost comical if you didn’t know that this mook was a stone cold killer.  Like a constipated beardless Santa Klaus. “Of course he looked you dick” Joey laughed. “He’s a smart kid. I would expect him to look. Just not to say shit. Right kid.” “Right Mr. Gallo” I said. “Call me Joey kid. You’re allright. I hear you run that gang of kids on Tompkins Place and Degraw and Kane. I used to run a gang of kids too when I was your age. It’s good to be King eh?” “Yes sir” I said and thought better of it. “Yeah Joey you are right. But I ain’t a King. More of a Joker.” “Ha you’re a fucking ball buster. I like that” Joey said. “Listen you ever have a problem you come see me at the club. I’ll help you out. I owe you one. No go to your Grandma before those pastries get fucked up. Say hello to your Uncles for me. Or not. Whatever you think best.” “Thanks Joey” I said. I walked away down the street.

Holy Shit on a Shamrock! Fuckin’ Joey Gallo owed me one. Not that I would ever try to collect on it. I would leave it in the bank. Like a fuckin Christmas club for a Christmas that would never come. I was just glad I didn’t catch a beating