Waylon Jennings The Ghost of General Lee

The Wolftones The Fighting 69th.The Irish Brigade..wmv

Sands of Iwo Jima

Down By the Glenside

Sgt. Mulcahy and the Grand March

Happy Memorial day

I could really use a drink right now!

  
After a long week a cocktail is a man's reward. Or a woman's for that matter. Don Draper didn't invent that. He just help make it popular again.

I would love to have a martini. A dirty dry gin martini. In a frosty cold glass. Shaken not stirred. Three olives.

I am fucking dying here!

I hate to mess up my routine....

Usually when we have a tough week like we had this week we like to go out for dinner on Friday or Saturday.

But we are too tired and are on anti-biotic's so we can't drink. So what's the point? How can you enjoy a great meal without a little vino to mellow it out?

If it wasn't for that I would have Marco make me his famous fettuccine in the cheese wheel like he is doing in this photo. He has a giant wheel of cheese and cooks the past on the side. Then he puts into the cheese wheel and turns it around and around until it is entirely coated in rich creamy cheese. Oh it is wine pasta by the way.

Oh well, maybe next week.

We can never keep our distance.....

I always get to friendly with people. Which is just the way we are. Especailly the people that work with us. For example the UPS guys.

Now the morning guy comes in buys bras for all his girlfriends on Court St. He has about five different girls hes banging and he is buying them blind. So if they return them to resize I have to make sure that no 2 of them are in the store at the same time. It's like fucking Threes Company or something.

Then there is Alex the night guy. He is supposed to pick up the box on the corner but of course I bribe him to come to my store every night to pick them up. He liked to do that to hit on the girls working for me but they have all quit. His new gimmick is he comes with his shaving kit and takes out his contacts and washes up before a hot Friday night. The garage is just too messy so he likes to clean up in my spotless bathroom. So on Fridays he spruces up before he takes out the boxes.

He had to work this week since I did all of the weeks worth on Friday as I was out sick. So he had to make three trips.

I just know too much about every-bodies business for crying out loud.

The Tale of the Politico and the Bumbling Bumbershoot.

My dear Holmes,

It is your most humble petitioner, Inspector Lestrade. It has been many months since I have last requested your assistance in the troubling matter of the disappearance of Lord Douchebag which you might not recall as it happened several years ago. However today I must make enquiries regarding the case of the bumbling bumbershoot.

It seems that a photo has surfaced that depicts the prime minister performing an unnatural act with an umbrella. It appears that this umbrella is of foreign design with strange markings typical of the musselman and originating in the Levant or perhaps in some other part of the domains of the Ottoman. In this photo it seems that a member of the Coldstream Guards had inserted this tool into the Prime Minister's fundament. And then opened it. It seems he had shot it into his bum. So to speak. It is quite disquieting.

In any event I do not know if this is an area in which you have any knowledge. There has often been talk about your relationship with Dr. Watson but I have always discounted that as the idle jibber jabber of jealous minds. However I do think it is possible that your brother Mycroft might offer some sage advice.

I well recall the matter of the street lascar and the barrel of whale oil that was quite the talk of the club last year. Also the unfortunate incident with the narwhale tusk and tar that require his visit to hospital last month. So I would respectfully request that you contact your brother and have him aid us in our inquires.

My best to Doctor Watson and my condolences on the recent death of his second wife. It is passing strange that she would perish at such a young age in much the same manner as his first.

I am sure you are glad that he is back in your rooms.

I remain as always,
Your obedient servant,
Inspector G. Lestrade
Scotland Yard
October 19, 1899

Backing in to it .....so to speak.

I guess it is no secret that I always wanted to be a writer. These little vignettes and stories on the blog are just a way to let off some steam from the creative juices that are bubbling in my noggin. Recently I have been reading about Edgar Rice Burroughs and how he became one of the most read pulp writers at the beginning of the last century.

Looking at a blank page and trying to come up with a story is a pretty tough thing to do. Writers like blake can attest. So I thought I might fool around a little on the blog and start a couple of series that would be practice for a real attempt. I am cheating by using real well know characters form other works. But that is what they call fan fiction and these days this is big business. Eric Flint and SM Stirling both really encourage fan fiction and even print the best of the submissions.

So am going to give it a go. Starting with a Western. With the Sacketts. Wyatt  Earp. Doc Holiday. Katie Elder. Lucas McCain. And maybe some other well know characters from the time. I guess you can call it creative writing of a sort.

We are just trying to do it through the back door.

So to speak.

The Last Hand

I stopped at the door of the saloon to see what was in front of us.  There were a couple of cowboys at a table on the left. McMasters went to join them.  Three vaqueros from my ranch were seated behind them.  Juan glanced up and caught my eye. He nodded. 

On the right was a poker game that seemed to be very tense. It had the dealer, a whiskey drummer,  Bill White from the Double W and what looked like a corpse. A corpse that kept coughing into a soiled lace handkerchief.  That must be Earp's partner. Doc Holiday. Some people called him a gunfighter.  A pistolero.  But when you looked in his eye you saw one thing. Death. He was a killer. Pure and simple.

Earp was at the bar. Burly and dark with a bushy mustache and a soiled suit. He looked like what he was. Crooked. Greedy. A pimp.  Well worse than a pimp. A politician. 

We eased into the saloon. Tell went to sit opposite the game and Cap hung by the door. Everyone looked up as we walked in and I am sure as hell that they all noticed the scatter gun that Cap held low at his hip. Sometimes you don't have to say much when it is right plain out there for you to see.

"Evening Marshal" drawled Earp. He seemed awful arrogant for a man in my town. No matter how many guns he might have, he would always be outgunned in a Sackett town. It might call for him to step a little lightly. But that was not what the man would do. You see he was an asshole. "Sorry I didn't go to your office but I thought we might make this friendly if we could. Less official so to speak."

I walked over to the bar. "I think official might be the way we might best handle this Earp. I heard about the doings down Tombstone these past months. So I have no use for a personal vendetta here in my town.  If you have warrants to serve you can serve them. But no gun play where an innocent could get hurt. You hear me son."

"Whose to say whose an innocent Sackett? You?" 

"Everybody is an innocent until the jury convicts them Earp. I ain't  planning to let you gun down Curley Bill or Ike or even Ringo. Not that any of them are in town. Or have been seen here in New Mexico in months.  Nobody is gonna get gunned unless it is me doing it.  Sabe amigo?"

Suddenly there was a commotion at the poker table. Holiday had started hacking and wheezing and spitting and carrying on. I couldn't tell if he was coughing or laughing or dying. It turned out he was laughing.

"I guess you can't buffalo Tyrel Sackett the way you always do Wyatt.....ha, ha,ha....you might have to do it legal this time."

A gleam of amusement sparked in Earp's eye.  "I always keep it legal Doc. Or legal enough. No problem sheriff.  We will just stay the night and load up some supplies and be on our way in the morning. Thank you for your consideration."

"Consideration you can have just realize there ain't no slack in the reigns.  Have a good night. Gentlemen."

I turned and walked out of the saloon.  Cap followed but William Tell stayed behind to keep an eye on situation.  I knew it wouldn't be so simple.

The face of sick wears its sunglasses at night.

So now I feel a little better and went it to work at the store. The only thing is Lisa is making me wear sunglasses inside as my eyes are really fucked up. They are totally blood shot and scarey!

Now I almost never wear sunglasses even when I am out in the sun. So this is a new experience for me. When I wore them into the deli all the guys gave me shit. "Hey Hollywood what are you filming again."

I said "Yeah" and took off my glasses so they could see the scarey blood shot orbs. "I am filming a sequel to the Twilight Saga. This time they are making them with fat fucks!"

This is the face of sick!

This is what I looked like Monday night. The freaking contagious pink eye hit me hard and the cold just ran me down until I could barely stand. I had that fever and was alternately shivering and sweating. It sucked big time.

Luckily I went to the doc for meds and I started to beat it back. I have to very careful not to touch my eyes which is tough because they are freaking itchy. But I did the eyedrops and what not and it seems to be clearing up.

Of course Lisa had to take a photo to send to everyone because I am never sick so people didn't believe me when I canceled out of stuff. I mean I would have loved to go to the cigar night but it just wasn't in the cards.

You asked for it....you got it

Oh wait. Windbag asked that I not post it.

I don't know. I'm sick. I don't know what I am doing.

Sorry.

The Last Hand

We were sitting in the  office having a cup of coffee that Cap had just brewed. It  was a quiet night in Mora. I was thinking about getting ready to ride out to the ranch when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I said as Cap and Tell positioned themselves to bracket the door. You never who would be coming in and you want to ready if they come in guns a blazing.

A long rawboned  drover covered in dust walked in. He looked at us and saw how Cap and Tell had moved to bracket the entrance and realized he was covered three ways from Sunday. But I don't think he was looking for trouble.

"Marshall Sackett, my name is Sherman McMasters and I am here with a posse. Marshal Earp is in the Lucky Lady and he asks if he might palaver with you for a spell."

"Marshal Earp. Would that be Wyatt  Earp?"

"Yessir. He is on the trail of some miscreants out of Tombstone in Arizona Territory. The Clantons, Curly Bill and such. Has warrants on all of them.”

"Don't say" piped up my brother William Tell from the corner where he was rolling a smoke with that Vigginy tobacco he favored. " I knew Curly Bill. Rode with him. He was a hell raiser but no more than most. What kind of warrant does Earp have on him?"

"Murder. For the murder of Morgan Earp."

"So it's personal" I said as I stood up from behind the desk. "I don't reckon I want personal grudges to be settled on my streets. That's not how it works. Your friend Earp is riding high by summoning me like the clerk in the haberdashery. But I always heard his was a high hatted son of a bitch."

"Don't get riled now Tyrel" cautioned Cap who is always the voice of reason. "Earp wrangled a badge so he must have some politicians behind him.  You need to be calm."

"No worries Cap. I am as calm as can be. Lets go down and talk to him. I want to get on home to Drusilla."

I will be your huckleberry.....

Let me tell you being sick sucks big time.

Both Lisa and I have been out for three days. Which fucks up the store since we had no one to work it so we had to close. No money. No sales. No shit.

We are gingerly going back to work. We are not coughing like Doc Holiday and the wife is busy lysoling everything in sight to kill germs that we might have spread by coughing so as not to get reinfected.

I have the bonus of having pink eye in both eyes so I will have to wear sunglasses behind the counter to not scare the customers. I am being very careful about not touching my eye as this is very contagious and easily spread and I am washing up every five minutes or so.

All in all after this experience of coughing even five seconds it is amazing to me that Doc Holiday was as happy a guy as he was. I just want to shoot everyone on sight.

(Thanks to everyone for the best wishes)

Fever...in the morning

So I was so sick I had to go to the doctor to see what was up.

It turns out that I am pretty sick. I had a fever of 102.7 and as an added bonus conjunctivitis/!


My new worker seems to have brought in all her kids diseases at one time and it wiped me out. I will be out of action for a while.

I am as sick as shit.

I have been very sick the past few days. We are running ourselves into the ground working all of these hours. With no employees it is impossible to catch up. We run from one thing to another. Even on our usual day off we had to go into the city for the show. That killed me.

I am dragging ass and don't have to energy to do much on the internets. I will do better soon. Have faith.

So they are black balling Tim Tebow!

Or at least that's the rumor. Now Michael Vick got picked up right away and got a great contract. Ray Lewis shot a man in Reno just to see him die. LT smoked more crack than Bobbie Brown and Whitney combined. And they got right back in the game or never got cut by their team.

You can say a lot of things about Tebow. He doesn't have the best arm. He might not call the best game. But the guy is a winner. He won in college and took a crap Denver team to the playoffs. Denver just wanted to dump him and the Jets as usual were happy to do something stupid. if they didn't want him they should never have traded for him. Now the Jets have a boa-fied loser in Dirty Sanchez and a college rookie draft pick as their quarterbacks.

I think the reason why Tebow is not getting a job is because he is a committed Christian. You are better off being a Muslim terrorist. Then you have a bigger fan club of little girls and guys like Titus.

I really hope someone just gives him a chance and he takes an unlikely team to the playoffs. That would be great.

Good night Incognito!

So we ended the night really early by about 7pm. I paid the check and we wanted to say good bye to the owner but he wasn't around. Hassan our driver had parked right outside so we walked through the open french doors of the restaurant to the car when we heard some yelling in Italian "Aspeth a minute."

It was the chef Paolo who wanted to say goodbye. He is an interesting cat. His family immigrated from Italy in 1970's. To Scotland. He was just a young kid but spent his formative years in Scotland. Not known for its food. But he is great chef and his decor of crossed meatballs on a tartan makes for interesting decorations.

We asked Hassan to take a photo. The fucking guy shakes even more than I do! At least I will not get blamed for taking this photo!

I would never take a photo with my balls hanging out.....

But I guess it is ok if theyare in the dish.

At least I didn't do a video of me scarfing them down like I was going to the chair.

Martini's make me very hungry.

Hamilton Burger never won a case!

But the Incognito Burger is a Winner!

Served on a toasted roll it had fontina cheese and a side of guacamole. But the fries were the story. They were like the best McDonald fries you ever had. Piping hot and very salty, they also had a hit of pepper that gave them a pop that was out of this world.

A very nice burger by the bar which is surprising in an Italian joint.

Meatballs are always good!

So to start off the meal we had the meatball appetizer. Three spicy meatballs in a delicious sauce with garlic bread.

Oh I had switched from Martini's to Gin and Tonics as one Martinis is enough for me unless I am aiming to get wasted.

These were veal meatballs and they compare favorably to Marco Polo's which is saying something.

The best part of going to a place they know you....is that they know you!

So when we went to the restaurant we were really, really early. I mean it was about 4:30 in the afternoon.
On a Tuesday. So it was very empty. We decided to sit at the bar because all the doors were opened onto 18th Street and  a beautiful breeze was blowing. It's funny how you can find a spot in the hustle and bustle of New York City that is an Oasis of calm. You can watch everybody rushing by while you are enjoying a cocktail and nibbling on an appetizer. Or your honey.

We took a bunch of photo's like we always do. And while we did, the chef/owner Paolo photo bombed us. Which was great because it put the bartender back on his heels.

You see he had no idea that we frequent this joint. I mean we are by no means regulars but we hit it at least once a month. Now we usually sit at a table, in fact this is the first time we sat at the bar. So he treated us like typical tourist trash. I didn't care but the wife got a little upset. I am never a tourist wherever I go and just said "hey give it a chance...he will get the idea that his performance will be reflected in the gratuity."

Of course all that changed after the owner came in and made a big deal about us. Kissing Lisa and hugging me. So the bartender suddenly became much more friendly. Hey waddayagonnado?

It never is good to presume. Don't presume you will get special treatment. And don't presume that your patrons are just dopes who don't know any better.

Hey we have to mix it up!

So we went to the show on Tuesday and are dealing with the aftermath all week. Well we tried to go to the show.

You see the rep for Not Your Daughters Jeans made an appointment with us for Tuesday at 4pm. Since we weren't going to buy anything else we went to the Javitts center at exactly 4pm. And the show was closed!
We talked our way in but the booth was totally empty! How about them apples?

We were kind of pissed but we decided to make lemonade out of bad lemons. So we went to one of our favorite restaurants, Incognito in the city for cocktails and appetizers.

Lisa had the Incognito Cosmo and I had a dirty martini. Good stuff.

That's what I'm talking about!

Hey it's time to go back to the fair!

So our last client has left and it is time to hit the end of the fair.

I want to pick up a few things so I don't have too cook too much tonight. Just a salad and some stuffed mushrooms and some of the stuff I can buy from the fair.

I have a few rice balls and some of those olive pastries and a couple of sausage heros. So we are all set.

I am just stopping off at CVS for the Pepto. Just in case.

Hey why is Hop Sing touching me?

The one booth that always makes me laugh is the massage booth where all these chinamen have little massage chairs and people sit and get back rubs!

It is hilarious watching a gangbanger with tattoo's getting rubbed by a lubed up chinaman.

But then again that must just be a regular night in Titus world. Just sayn'

There was really only one cool booth in the whole fair!

I mean most of it is the shit you see every fair. Spices. Sheets. Sneakers. Food carts. Cheap sunglasses. Cheap jewerly. But this one t-shirt guy had some cool stuff.

You see his Dad was a photographer and took some great shots of the city subway system in the 1970's and 1980's. The bad old days before Giuliani. Graffiti. Drunk people. Homeless people. Messed up trains in messed up stations.

So he took these cool photo's and put them on t-shirts and framed some of the other ones. We got a couple of t-shirts and some artwork mounted on tin. Very nice. Well worth the cost which was about $25 for the shirts and $35 for the mounted photos. Good stuff.

Why do my signs always look drunk?

I had to put the "back in five minutes" sign out every time we cut out to get a snack.

Somehow even my signs look drunk.

That shit ain't fair.

But there is nothing that is fair in street fairs.

Don't break my Rice Balls!

Readeriam doubted that I could pig out with a calzone and then a frank with kraut. She doesn't know the half of it. I hit most of the stands for the old favorites. Pizza. Rice Ball. Olive roll. Mozzarella on corn bread grilled cheese. Sausage and peppers. Frank with Kraut. Roasted corn. And a few other things.

The thing is you are not eating a meal. You are just picked with small portions.

All of the joints on Court St. had a stand outside. Marco Polo had three things they were selling. Little thin crust pizza. Calzones. And this crusty rice balls. They looked like triangles actually. And they were great.

Where is Pedro Martinez when you need him?

One of the funniest stands was the Pedro Martinez Memorial "Whose you're Daddy" booth that offered DNA testing.

The booth was empty and they had no customers all day long.

Of course Carroll Gardens is a white neighborhood. Just sayn'

Street fairs are just not fair!

So they are having the annual Court St Festival today and business sucks. I saw a bunch of our clients but they are out enjoying the fair with their family and will not be shopping. Sometimes we close for this day but a couple of people made appointments so we are waiting for them. I have to keep the door closed because people want to wander in while they are eating or they ask to use the bathroom. Seriously!

Mainly what I am doing is popping out to buy some food and bring it back to the shop to eat.

All of the resturants put out a table in front of their stores and have something to sell. The regular street vendors food really sucks so I stay with the people I know.