Friday, January 31, 2014

Joey Gallo's Lament


Joey stood on the corner of Union and Bond. He looked around to see who was out. Not a soul to be seen. He scanned the windows of all the houses in sight. No old women hanging out the window watching the world go by. All the blinds were down. Except for one window covered with the Daily News. Junkies. Or Beatniks. No one was in sight.
He took the cylinder of the thirty eight and threw it down the sewer. It fit easily down the drain. He walked down Nevins to the Carroll St Bridge over the Canal. It was just as deserted. He looked both ways but there was no action. He took the rest of the piece and put it in a burlap sack. Picked up a rock from the side of the road. Broken piece of pavement. It was all fucked up down here. The city never did any maintenance. Why would they. They thought South Brooklyn was a slum. Full of guineas and micks and now they were getting spics from the PR. Not what the classy people thought of as humans even. Joey took the rock and put it in the sack with the guts of the gat and tied the end in a knot. He tossed it off the bridge into the Canal. It bounced twice on the water. Then it sunk down. That was how filthy the water was down there. It wasn’t only Jesus that could walk on water on the Gowanus Canal.
Joey walked briskly over the bridge till he got to Montes. He nodded to the mook sitting on a kitchen chair at the small parking lot. He was the half a retard cousin of the owner.  Kid was sitting with his hand down his pants playing with pepino. Thank God he wasn’t driving. He had to remember to not take his caddy here.
Inside the restaurant it was dark with the lights turned low and candles flicking on the table. It was a classy joint. Red checkered tablecloths with candles in Chianti bottles on every four top. He saw them sitting in the booth and walked over.
“Hey how you doing” he said. The Snake and Apples looked up from the plates of mussels they were devouring. “Hey Ubatz what the fuck you doing here?” said the Snake. He was named right for fucks sake. He was lean but very muscular. He didn’t look like a Snake. He was called that because he was as treacherous as one. Apples was a big beefy Irishman who would beat you to death as soon as look at you. Both hard men. Both of them were wary of Joey. You never knew what a Crazy man would do.
“I wanted to talk to you” said Joey. “I know we been talking about old man Profaci kicking back more dough. We been working our ass off and he is taking all the cream. He is never on the streets. When was the last time you saw him. He doesn’t even go to his olive oil company anymore. I mean who knows if the fuck is even alive. We could be kicking up to a corpse and his bug eyed fuckin’ cousin is spending our money and laughing up his sleeve.”
“So what do want to do about it” asked the Snake. He looked at Apples. “The man wants to talk to the boss when he knows the boss hates his balls so much that if he could get away with he would cut them off and feed them to his fucking dog. Sometimes it’s best to stay out of it. Until you get the call. Like they did with the Mad Hatter.”
“Yeah well who the fuck wants to wait for that. It might not happen. The little man ain’t going against one of the originals. We are on our fucking own here.”
“No cuszine you are on your own. We ain’t doing shit without putting it on the books. That is just the way it is. Right Apples?” The beefy Irishman just grunted and kept eating.
“Well at least I know where you stand. Just stay out of my way. I telling ya. Stay on this side of the Canal and mind your business, capice piasan?”
“Sure whateva you say Joey. Whateva you say. Want some food?”
“No thanks. See you around. Oh and Apples.” The big man looked up. “You are one fat fucking Mick. You don’t stop eating like a fuckin pig you gonna catch a heart attack.” Hate blazed in the big boys eyes. He put his hands on the table to brace himself and push the table away from the booth. Crazy Joe picked up a fork and plunged it through his hand and pinned them to the table.
“WHAT THE FUCK YOU CRAZY FUCKIN FUCK” 
Joey slowly backed out of the restaurant with his hand in his jacket. It was chaos. Apples was cursing and prying his hand off the table and the Snake was staring at Crazy Joe and shaking his head. The waiters were running over with a towel and some ice.
“Fuckin Ubatz” said the Snake. “FUCKIN UBATZ!”

"If you prick us, do we not bleed?"

Calm down Palladian this is not gay stuff.

Youse guys remember when my varicose vein burst a few years ago and I almost bled out in the kitchen? Well now I have to be really careful. I am on blood thinners and if I get a bad cut I can bleed out faster than the Crack Emcee would run from a real job. I am taking Xarelto which is a lot better drug than Coumadin which is in actuality rat poison. Still it is a dangerous blood thinner and you have to not get a cut.

So today I got a cut.

Actually not a cut but a little scape. It bled like a son of a bitch. It was scary. I am ok because I put on direct pressure and it clotted. So I am not worried. Unless I get cut making dinner or some shit like that there.

It's funny. There are supposed to be side effects. They include:
  • changes in vision
  • confusion, trouble speaking or understanding
  • red or dark-brown urine
  • redness, blistering, peeling or loosening of the skin, including inside the mouth
  • severe headaches
  • spitting up blood or brown material that looks like coffee grounds
  • sudden numbness or weakness of the face, arm or leg
  • trouble walking, dizziness, loss of balance or coordination
  • unusual bruising or bleeding from the eye, gums, or nose

  • Shit. That was how I spent the 1980's. Now I don't even have to pay for the beers. The marvels of modern medicine.

    If that knucklehead is going to keep putting up my photo when he attacks me....

    He should use a more recent photo. I mean I lost a lot of weight. Calling me "Trooper Pork" and a "morbidly obese" bra fitter is so 2013.


    The dude is just out of step.

    Thursday, January 30, 2014

    The worst joke I ever heard

    What's eighteen inches long, very stiff and makes women weep uncontrollably?

    Wednesday, January 29, 2014

    Doc Holliday Must Die

    Hickok sat as usual with his back to the wall. John Wesley Hardin was on his left. Doc was on his right. Ben Thompson sat across from him with a drover on one side and Mike Williams the deputy on the other.
    “The game is five card stud gentleman with jacks better to open” said Ben Thompson as he shuffled the deck and started to deal out the cards from left to right. The Drover got to open the ball after the ante.
    “Fold” he said not being the boldest at the table. Hardin took two cards and raised. Hickok checked as did Doc and everyone else so the hand went on.
    “Never did get a chance to talk much to you Hardin. If you don’t mind me inquiring I was wondering what you are doing up Kansas way” said Hickok. “What is it to you Marshal” incited Thompson. He hoped he could get the kid gunslinger to drawn down on the Marshal before he shot up his partner Coe. Phil thought he could win easy but Ben was not so sure. “The kid has a right to wander. We all did when we were his age.”
    “Not a problem Mr. Thompson. I rode up part of the way with trail herd. I had a little difficulty down El Paso way and thought I might see a little of the world. I just didn’t like looking at the back of a cow while I was doing it so I rode on up ahead to hurrah the town a little.” “Fair enough. There is a sight to see. In fact you should look up Big Nose Kate” said Thompson. “That there is a sight to see.” “Ha I reckon that’s right” said Williams. “She is a sight to see. A pert young filly with a nice set of titties.” “Amen brother” said Marshal Hickok. “That is a grand place to start your sight-seeing.” Doc took the hand with a pair of sixes.
    “So why are you in Abilene John” asked Deputy Williams. Hickok often uses him as a social buffer. He was a hail fellow well met who could smooth over the rough edges of Wild Bill’s demeanor. Many’s the difficulty that was avoided by Mike Williams’s bonhomie. “I am going to open my dental practice. Mr. Thompson has seen fit to rent me an office and I will be pulling molars directly.” “I will have to look you up then” said John Wesley. “I have a tooth that has been paining me badly the last month. It is a sight painful when I drink anything hot or cold. I can’t even have any coffee in the morning.” “Stick to whiskey son. It is best in the morning. Gives you a good start to the day.” Thompson took the pot with three Queens.
    “So you are a landlord now Ben. What about your partner? Is Coe a landlord too?” “Yes he is Marshal. We are partners after all.” “Well you best advise him then. He should be careful of high stepping because soon the only real estate he will be occupying will be six feet deep and six feet long. I won’t warn him again.” “This here is a friendly game Marshal. You will have to address Coe direct if you want satisfaction” said Thompson. “Let it go Bill” said Williams. “No need to press it. Let’s just set and enjoy the night.” Hickok took the hand with four of a kind. “Well it is right enjoyable after all. I think I will take your advice Mike.”

    Joey Gallo's Lament

    Joey Gallo stood blinking on the stoop outside the 76th Precient. He was a little the worse for wear. A few bruises. A wrinkled suit. No regrets. Just hate that you could feel radiating from his soul.

    “So Joseph I would imagine you will keep your nose clean while they are looking at you” said Myron Cohen. “You know that fat schemdrake will looking up your keister to find the Lindbergh baby. Let’s not give him a reason to lock you up.” “That’s what I pay you for Jew Boy. To keep that Irish fuck from locking my up. What the fuck do I pay the pad for if not to be left alone. You better get it straight. If that fuck pulls me in and tosses me around it is your ass that is gonna feel the fucking pain. Got it shyster?” “Ok, ok take it easy. You goyim are too excitable. I already threatened him with cutting off his rice bowl. That is why you got sprung. Now I have to go. The wife made a brisket and I want to go home to eat before my useless brother in law eats it all.” Cohen waddled off down Union St towards the Subway.

    Joey straightened his tie and brushed his suit. He turned right down Union to walk to the club on President. He hoped that stupid kid got the bag to his brother. Cause if he didn’t he would have a big problem on his hands.

    Joe Jelly and Sammy the Syrian were back outside on the kitchen chairs in front of the club smoking guinea stinkers and sipping on Manhattan Specials. It was just another day for them. Same shit. Different day.

    “Hey Joe looking good” said Joe Jelly. “I thought we were gonna have to go in and bust you out like you were Jesse James or something.” “Yeah right. Did that dumb kid come by yesterday with a bag to give to Albert?” “Yeah he did” said Sammy. “Al took it in the back. He ain’t here though. He went to make some collections with Bobby B and Sal.” “Shit. I need to talk to him. Sammy get off you’re fuckin’ lazy A-rab ass and go find him.” “Jeez Joey he will be back soon.” “I said now you lazy fuck or I will smack you so hard your fuckin’ camel will have another hump. You hump.” “Ok, ok” mumbled Sam as he got up and went to look for the youngest Gallo brother.

    Joey went into the club and opened the door to the cellar. He walked down the derelict stair case and over to the giant safe that sat in the back of the room in cobwebbed splendor. He ran the combination and pulled the heavy door open. He sighed a little in relief. There was the bag. He opened it. The slips were there. The money was gone but you had to expect that with his fuckin’ brother. But the gun was still there. That was what was important. That gat could put him in the chair. Joey took it out and spun the cylinder to make sure it wasn’t loaded. He tucked it into the small of his back and buttoned his suit. Slammed the door shut. Stood up and shot his wrinkled cuffs. He had to dump the piece before he got rousted again.

    Real Estate in NYC is Crazy I tells ya!


    This is a cupcake store on Seventh Avenue in the Garment Center. I was walking with the realtor and he told me that he rented the store. The tiny miniature cupcakes sell for three dollars a piece. The rent for a store that is 18 by 8 feet? $22,000 a month. Yikes!

    Macy's has really gone downhill

    So we went to Macy's yesterday since the wife needed some make up and stuff. They had a bunch of displays of football jersey's and stuff. The worst thing about it was who they decided to feature. I mean some of them stunk.

    Just sayn'

    Tuesday, January 28, 2014

    Remembrance of Things Pabst

    So I got another treat while we were shopping for space. I got to go back to Ben's Kosher Deli to repeat our wonderful repast of last week. I went with the same thing I did last week. Only I mixed it up. I went with the Chicken Noodle soup which was delicious. So delicious that I ate like a gavone.

    Oy and look at those pickles. I went with the half sandwich of corn beef this time. It was tasty as could be.

    I just enjoyed the heck out of the sandwich. And of course the knish for desert. I really had another great meal.

    This could get to be a habit.

    Decisions are always hard

    We went to look at additional spaces today. When you have to make decisions especially important ones there are so many factors to weigh in your decision matrix. We saw a new space that we are considering.

    This space has a lot of possibilities. They have to fix the windows and put in a new floor. You have to be able to look at a fucked up space and imagine what it would look like when you fix it up. Of course the building has to be willing to fix it up for you before you move in. How long will it take? Do they pay for it or are you on the hook for it? Lots of questions and decisions.
    The floor sucks so we would have to put in a wood floor. This might put us out of pocket a little but would obviously be worth it.
    We will be knocking down this wall to make one big space when you walk in. It will open to a wall of windows with a lot of sun. You to be able to see it in your minds eye which is what the wife does best as she can conceptualize the space in a way that will really work.

    It is a big decision as you might imagine so we are going back on Friday to look at a couple of more spaces. To be continued.

    Is it soup yet?

    Or is it just coleslaw?

    Back to Ben's Kosher Deli

    We were back in midtown looking at spaces and I got to go back to Ben's Kosher Deli for another delicious lunch. This time it was corn beef. Chicken Noodle soup. And a knish of course.

    Eat your heart out ripic.

    Wait a minute. I ate my heart out. Oops.

    Poor Dwight is spinning out of control

    The Cracked one is upping the ante once again by posting shout out and attacks hoping to get a response. With the added bonus of Leisure Suit Larry and Inga adding their own little bon mots in the comments section. When someone emailed me the link I had to laugh.

    It seems like every other post is about me or Michael Haz. It is really quite amusing. The juvenile shots in the comments are even stupider than you think they would be.

    Remember. Radio Silence. But we won't forget when the time comes for a dirty shot. Just sayn'

    Sunday, January 26, 2014

    Another bullshit de Blasio move!

    The word is that Mayor de Blasio is going to move to get rid of the sandwich boards that stores have outside on the sidewalk to get people to come in. These boards have been part of the fabric of the city for hundreds of years. But since it helps business he is against it.

    I have one outside the shop that advertises sales and has a smart little saying to pique peoples interest. Another amenity of NYC life that will be destroyed by our new communist mayor.

    Not so Randy Andy skates again

    I was watching "Media Buzz" on Fox today and had to laugh how the panel thought it was no big deal that we have wall to wall coverage of Christie Bridge gate while nobody said squat about Cuomo saying there is not a place in New York for those who were "pro-life" or who are against gay marriage.  Even the fact that Cardinal Dolan spoke out was pretty much ignored.

    I wish the Cardinal had the guts to excommunicate the Governor. Unfortunately the leaders of the Church don't seem to have the courage of their convictions. I guess if they don't take it seriously enough to take real action that I can't carp that other people don't care.

    Ted Cruz gets off a good one!




    He is not my favorite candidate but every once in a while he hits it out of the park. In this video from one of the Sunday shows he asks if Obama will apologize for lying in the last State of the Union.

    Now we know that he will never do that. But wouldn't it be cool if a bunch of Republicans stood up and yelled "You Lie" when he puts out another whopper. I know they will never do that but man it would be cool.

    I would love to have the Republican response be something like "Hey he lied when he said you could keep your policy or you doctor. What lies did he tell this time."

    Friday, January 24, 2014

    Remembrance of Things Pabst

    We spent the day looking at spaces and I was dragging my old man ass up and down the streets in the snow and the slush. You know I have a heart condition. Which I like to mention when I want something. So the wife agreed to let me off the leash and we went for lunch. I got to get me some primo Jew food at "Ben's Kosher Deli."

    Now as a true New Yorker I love Deli and as only ricpic can attest it is the Kosher Deli that is the best. Ben's is a chain operation without the big publicity of places like Katz's or Ratners or the Stage Deli. But hey....Moische...it's cheaper. And it has all of your Deli favorites.

    First off when you sit down they give you a complimentary dish of pickles and a big dish of delicious coleslaw. Man that slaw was good. I am not allowed salt and haven't really had any since I went to hospital. I wasn't going to waste it on pickles for fucks sake. So I stuck to the slaw while I checked out the menu.

    I decided to get the half and half. No that is not what Crack's Momma used to peddle back in the day. Get your mind out of the gutter Sixty. It is half a sandwich and big bowl of soup. Man that fucking soup was great. I couldn't get the matzo ball that I wanted because I didn't want all that gluten. I know I am turning into a bigger homo than Palladian for fucks sake. But I have to ration out what I am doing you know what I mean? This chicken and rice was delicious and full of salt. Heaven! I was going to have the Soup of the Day but it was cabbage and the wife vetoed that under the Fart Containment Treaty of 2012. But the chicken and rice really hit the spot on a freezing cold day in NYC. (You can see the half eaten dish of slaw as well)

    NOW IT IS TIME FOR THE SANDWICH!!!!!! LEAN PASTRAMI ON RYE!!!! WITH GOBS OF FREAKING MUSTARD!!!!!!! I AM IN HEAVEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Ok.....Ok....calm down sailor. But isn't she beautiful. Sensual. A treat to put in your mouth. So cute. So salty. Sandwiched between to firm sweet pieces of rye bread. Long strips of pastrami. Lean as a concession to health but oh so tasty. She is a beauty I tell you. I scarfed her down in not time flat.
    Finally it was time for desert.
    A potatoe knish. Look at that beauty! Isn't she firm and plump and just asking to be eaten. Look at her golden skin. Perfection. No Hollywood starlet or pin-up girl can ever compare. Look at her more closely.

    Isn't she everything you wanted in a potatoe and more?

    We really enjoyed our lunch. And it was pretty cheap. Compared to what I would normally blow at a joint like Marco Polo or Incognito this was a mere bag of shells. What a great lunch.

    I had a blast.

    It's time to mix it up

    We have been thinking about mixing it up a little. One of the things we are going to do is really ramp up our website. Also we decided to start doing wholesale.

    Now wholesale is a whole different kettle of fish. You need a showroom to have clients come in and buy your line. It has to be in the garment district or at the very least in Manhattan. So we got a real estate guy to set up some appointments for some showroom space.

    What is really crazy is that Manhattan real estate prices are somewhat reasonable compared to what is going on in Brooklyn. Brooklyn has become the hottest place in the city. If not the nation. So many poseurs and douchenozzles want to move in. The editor of Vogue lives here. Fucking Captain Picard lives here.

    It is all about supply and demand. There are so many spaces in midtown compared to the low rise of Brooklyn that the cost is going down. So many companies have gone out of business because of the Obama economy that we saw a bunch of spaces. This one looked good.
    We are looking so that we can facilitate the move to Florida. If I have a showroom I can leave it and just come into town during market. You know when people come to town to buy. I can set up salesperson to work while we are not there.

    It is a work in progress.

    Woke up, fell out of bed Dragged a comb across my head Found my way downstairs and drank a cup And looking up......

    I saw a fucking back hoe parking in front of my gate.

    They have been doing work all week and finally got to my house. They started around seven in the morning and began hacking away digging a giant hole right in front of my house. It looked like this.

    These are the DEP guys working in a hole they made in front of my house. They are putting in some kind of pipes. I think it might be a waste pipe but I am not sure. I didn't want to ask actually since it was none of my business. I just want to be able to get out of my house.

    We had an important appointment in the city today and we couldn't be delayed.

    Thursday, January 23, 2014

    I need to mind my manners...no pattyfingers if you please

     
     
     
     

    I felt bad that I couldn't participate fully on Darcy's thread at Lem. Her post was so poignant and heartfelt I didn't feel that I could let loose my usual bullshit. Even though Rev was asking for it.

    Sometimes you have to feel your way when you are commenting. I wouldn't comment the way I do here or at Lem's at a more serious blog like "Legal Insurrection." Of course at a free for all like Ace you can just let fly. When somebody puts up a sincire post like Darcy did it is not really cool to be a Meade.

    Man is that fucker annoying. He keeps poking at me but I will not respond. I might give him an obligue shot in other threads but I will not directly engage his stupidity. He wants that too much.

    Yankees pay big money for Japanese pitcher



    Unfortunately it is not her.

    Lem is still jealous though.

    Tanaka gets a boat load of money. The last Jap pitcher we got did ok. Kuroda pitched pretty well last year. The fat pussy toad is dead. Long live the new fat pussy toad.

    At least the Yankees are not afraid to spend. I think Carlos Beltran is the key acquisition. He is going to go crazy in Yankee Stadium. He always wanted to be a Yankee and will fit right in. If Jeter can play and give some leadership and we don't have the A-Rod circus we might get somewhere.

    Fire in the Hole





    We had to close early yesterday because of the Apocalypse. Well it wasn't the real apocalypse but it was pretty damn close.

    A Con Edison transformer on the next block caught fire and started to burn out of control. We heard this booms for a while and just assumed it was snow plows banging against the curbs. The lights were flickering but that happens a lot in those old buildings so we weren't alarmed. Then we started to smell this fire smell so went outside to investigate.

    On the next block in front of the Health Food Store there were flames shooting eight feet into the air
    Black smoke redolent of chemicals  and asbestos was streaming out of the hole. The prevailing wind was blowing it right into the Health Food Store and the Gym on the corner. Those organic tomatoes are going to taste really great now! And could you not love to breath in that dust as you are on the thread mill in your fancy gym!

    We closed early because we have an electric gate. If the fire caused a lack of electricity we couldn't get the gate down and we would have to stay in the store overnight. We couldn't do that in this cold so we figured better save than sorry.

    But it still was pretty messed up.

    Wednesday, January 22, 2014

    Doc Holliday Must Die


    Hickok strolled into the saloon and walked up to the bar. He motioned to bartender who put a bottle and glass in front of him and got out of the way. The Marshal looked up at reflection in the mirror behind the bar. He could see the table with Thompson, Doc and Hardin. With Phil Coe on his right he was boxed in. He did not see very worried.
    Coe walked up next to him and put his hands on the bar. “Why did you decide to come here Hickok?” You know you are not welcome here.” Wild Bill glanced at him. Smiled. Took a sip of his drink. Chuckled.
    “You turning away business Coe. No wonder you boys are doing so poorly. Not half bright are you pilgrim?”
    Ben Thompson got up and walked to the other side of Hickok. “Now there is no reason to tussle boys. Don’t listen to Phil. He has been feeling poorly. You are certainly welcome here Marshal.”
    “That’s good to know Ben but this is my town and I will go where I damn well please. No card slick with a dead muskrat on his face has a say.”

    “I say what I damn well please Hickok” blurted Coe. “It ain’t your nevermind. You just can’t abide that I am the best shot in this damned town. Hell in Kansas for that matter. I can shoot down a bird on the wing.”

    “Maybe pilgrim but is that bird shorting back?”
    “Well we will just have to see what we will see Marshal.”
    “Not tonight” said Ben Thompson as he sidled in between Coe and Hickok. “Marshal why don’t you join me over at my table. We can get up a game. Come and set with John Wesly Hardin and John Holliday over at my table. Drinks on the house.”
    “Well that sounds like a hospitable offer Ben. Don’t mind if I do. We will take this up later Mr. Coe.”
    “Anytime Marshal. Any old time at all.”

    Joey Gallo's Lament


    Kelly and his partner were sitting at the dented green metal desks out in the detective room. Sipping bad coffee from a chipped mugs and staring into space. Not that they were conversationalists. Kelly mainly ruminated to himself. Ryan’s mind was as blank as his slack jawed expression. They had nothing to talk about.
    A short rumpled Jew walked into the room. “I see that you have my client here Kelly. Are you going to charge him Kelly?”
    “That’s Detective Kelly to you …you pipsquek kike cunt. Show a little respect or it will be you in chains.”
    “Stop Kelly. Enough with the touris and the drama. Don’t make me make a call to the clubhouse. You know that this is wired. Unless you are going to charge him you can’t keep him.”
    “I don’t have to do a fuckin’ thing boyo. Don’t be peddling your Jew shit here Cohen.”
    “Do I have to call the City Council President for you Kelly. If you are not arresting him you have to kick him loose."
    “NOT ON YOUR MISERABLE WORTHLESS LIFE! AND YOUR LIFE AIN’T WORTH SHIT TO ME!”
    Myron Cohen just shook his head. “I don’t want to get in a pissing contest with a schmeckala like you Kelly. You know you have nothing. I have six witnesses that put Mr. Gallo at a card game at the time in question. So you don’t have a leg to stand on. Do yourself a favor and let him go. Or your envelopes in this precient might be a little light if you get my drift.”
    Detective Ryan perked up at that. “Hey I need that dough Kelly. The wife wants to go to the Rockaways this weekend. This shit ain’t worth it.”
    Kelly squinted at the diminutive Hebrew. “How do you know what this is about?”
    “Everybody knows everything Kelly. There are no secrets in Brooklyn.”
    “You have to let him go Kelly,” whined Ryan “I really need the money.”
    Kelly hissed in distress. “Well I guess I will have to do it at that. Kick him loose Ryan. Oh and let him pick up any of teeth that might be on the floor.”

    Doc Holliday Must Die


    John Wesley Hardin scanned the saloon. He looked over at the table with Ben Thompson and Doc. Nodding at Thompson he walked over.
    “How do Ben?” “Just fine John Wesley. Have a seat. Let me get you a drink” said Thompson. He signaled to one of the soiled doves that did double duty at the Bullshead. They served drinks. Gave head to all comers. Even to a bull if would come to that.
    “This is John Holliday. He is going to open a dental practice in the back of the building.” Doc nodded at John Wesley. It was strange. They were both very thin. Doc had the pallor and the frailness of a consumptive. Hardin had the slim deadly countenance of a rattler. Predators who recognized each other. And stepped lightly.
    “A dentist. I have heard tell of you. It has been said that you have had a few pistol and cartridge affairs down Newton way.” “Word travels fast. It wasn’t of my doing. It was unfortunate but it had to be.” “It has happened to me as well so you can preach it brother.”
    John Wesley slugged down his whiskey and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He sipped his beer and looked around the room.
    “Have you met the Marshall? I heard tell of him too” said Hardin. “Yes I met him when I came into town. Seemed a right friendly fella” Doc said. “He was polite enough.” “I thought so too” replied Hardin.
    Ben Thompson snorted. “I don’t know about that John Wesley. I heard tell he was gunning for you. He wants to be known as the gun slick in town. You know he will want to catch you short when you ain’t prepared. That’s how he works.”
    Doc squinted at Thompson. That didn’t sound right. Maybe this was not the place to be if the lead was going to fly so indiscriminately.  He had enough problems of his own account without buying into someone else’s mistakes.
    Another dandy walked down the stairs from the second floor along with two of the girls. He had slicked down hair and a full goatee. With his hand on one girls tit and the other on the other’s ass. Two guns tied down ready for business. He looked just like what the preacher described the devil to be.
    “That’s my partner Phil Coe. Let’s put your proposition to him John.”
    Suddenly the doors were pushed open and Will Bill walked in. He looked at Phil Coe. Coe looked back. You could feel the hate flowing between them from across the room.
    Doc touched his hold out piece in the pocket of his vest. Hardin took the toggle off his left handed pistol on the side they could not see.
    Ben Thompson sighed. “Shit” he murmured. This is not what I wanted to see tonight.” 

    Tuesday, January 21, 2014

    Storage Wars comes to Brooklyn

    Yesterday we spent the day at our storage units. We are consolidating and throwing stuff out to prepare for some changes we want to make. We had some stuff to throw out. I wish Dave and the other mooks were there to bid on it.

    Maybe I would have made some dough on the deal.

    The View from my Front Door





    Hey it's all white!

    That never happens in Brooklyn. Just sayn'

    Some Advice for Crack


    Sometimes it's hard not to laugh at crazy....even the best of us have to laugh at a sad clown



    This whole thing with Crack at Lem's place is getting ridiculous. It is a snowy day in Brooklyn and we had to cancel all our appointments. So I have been involved in the big mash up with the tag team of Crack and Meade against all comers.

    It reminds me of a tag team battle royal. Sort of like Mr. Fugi and Professor Tanaka taking on all comers. And losing badly.

    Crack has become a one note crazy. It was amusing to me to have Leisure Suit Larry jump on a comment and mock me  by saying "Trooper York reads the Macho Response every day. Who knew."
    Which is pretty funny since I don't. Just as I don't read his wife's crap either. I don't have to do that. People always drop by or email choice tidbits. You don't have to read either to know that it is always the same shit. But I guess I am pretty predictable. Just instead of racist rants or tongue bathing gay marriage you get naked pictures of Betty Rubble. Or Betty White. So I guess we are all predictable.

    Crack seems to have totally lost it. Saying he hopes I get a "Knock Out Punch" or that I  should get shot in my store is pretty out there. But at least he is being honest and  saying what he has been thinking about for a long time. Better that it gets out there for all to see.

    You make the call sports fans.

    I just have to laugh.

    Monday, January 20, 2014

    Governor Cuomo wants me to get out of New York

    Pro-abortion adulterer Andrew Cuomo has recently stated that there is no place for people like me in New York State. The Mafia Scion who was cuckolded by a polo player sweater tied over his shoulders mo had this to say about conservatives like me:


     "Right-to-life, pro-assault weapons, anti-gay — if that's who they are, they have no place in the state of New York because that's not who New Yorkers are," he continued.

    Cuomo said his words don't extend to moderate Republicans, such as those in the state Senate, who he believes "have a place in their state."


    You know he might be right. The more I see of how this city and this state have gone I feel that it is time for me to leave. I was a proud New Yorker. A proud Brooklynite. But no more. As Bob Grant used to say "It's sick and it is getting sicker."

    I don't want to be one of those old guys who thinks that everything sucks today and that it was better when you were a kid. I guess everyone feels that way. But the way things have become ridiculously expensive and the way you have to deal with entitled liberal hipster douche nozzles to such a degree it seems that I should just get a cabin in the woods like Sixty. Or more likely a place near the water where it is warm and I can go out and calmly write.

    I know that Andy the douche will be waving bye bye. I wonder what he is going to do when all the taxpayers leave and only the tax eaters remain.





     Urgent: Should Obamacare Be Repealed? Vote Here Now!

    Friday, January 17, 2014

    Hell Needs a New PA Announcer


    Forcas: Will you be interviewing any new announcers my dread Lord. It has been a while.
    Lucifer: Yeah we might as well. I am tired of doing it all. I am the Devil for fucks sake. I should be sitting around getting a blow job from an intern. Or golfing or something. You know what all the big shot demons from Hell do when they are in charge. Let's get someone else in here to make the announcements. Who do we have in the last bus?
    Forcas: Well we have several people that will be coming in. We have the beloved male star of a seminal Sixties Sitcom.   
    Lucifer: Holy shit. The Professor is here. That’s great! I have to come up with some good shit to mess with him. I mean being on an island with Ginger and Mary Ann and nothing getting any trim is pretty much Hell on earth doncha think?
    Forcas: No Sire it is not the Professor. The next Professor who is scheduled to burn in Hell is a Law Professor in Wisconsin and she still has few months to go.
    Lucifer: Then who is it? NOT EDDIE MUNSTER! THAT WOULD BE GREAT! I LOVE THAT LITTLE PERVERT!
    Forcas: No not him. It is Rueben Kincaid of the Partridge family.
    Lucifer: That loser. That sucks. Oh well show him in. We can torture him a little for some yuks.
    Forcas: Yes sire.
    Rueben Kincaid: (slides down the stairwell to hell and tumbles at the feet of Satan and his right hand fallen angel Forcas. He gets up slowly and straightens his tie. He is not a hippie after all) What’s going on here? One minute I was walking to a bright light and met a man in a robe with a clipboard and the next thing I know a trap door opens and I am like Danny Bonaduce when he runs out of crack. 
    Lucifer: Welcome to hell pal. You are gonna be spending a lot of time suffering so it’s time to get not so happy. Heh.
    Rueben Kincaid: Wait a minute! This can't be right. I suffered so much on Earth there is no way I have to suffer in hell. I mean I spent all the time with those ridiculous Partridges and I never made any freakin money? And the music. I wanted to stick chopsticks in my ears listening to that shit. I mean I was a big time Julie London fan. I almost got her to marry me but that scumbag Bobby Troup beat me out because he was a trumpet player who could use his trained lips on her vagina like she was a flugelhorn. I don’t deserve this.
    Lucifer: Tough shit baby. You are here on the Sandy Duncan infield fly rule. You screwed over too many people on the way up so you have to go all the way down.  I mean you could have banged Shirley Jones when she was at her MILFiest and Susan Dey when she was a young sweet thing. I mean you controlled the money. You could of banged the both of them at the same time. Talk about your Reuben Sandwich. Instead you were busy taking Danny Bonduce to gladiator movies and teaching to suck on the pipe. What a waste. As it were. Forcas get this miserable piece of shit out of here.
    Forcas: Yes Sire. (Two burley demons grabbed him and dragged him away.)
    Lucifer: What a stupid douche bag. Foras dress him up in some sequins and a bra and send to sing show tunes to those Somalians who just washed up on shore. That should fix his sorry ass for a while. How dare he take the sacred name of Julie London in vain.
    Forcas: Very well my lord. Who will we have announcing today?
    Lucifer: Get Ted Williams in here. It is always fun to watch him try to announce without a head. I miss baseball. This will hold me over.

    Joey Gallo's Lament


    Grandma took three green peppers and two big sweet onions and expertly cut them up. A little vegetable oil in the pan and fried the peppers first until they got soft. She never used olive oil like those big shots on the cooking shows do nowadays. That was expensive. It was a buck fifty a gallon.
    After the peppers were nice and soft she put in the onions. She always cooked them up in a battered cast iron frying pan that had seen better days. She had bought it when she was a young bride around 1909.  Grandma had a hard life. Buried two husbands and two children. Sewed buttons on a card with all of the family to survive the Depression. Even made a little vino in the cellar that her sister sold at her house parties. My grand Aunt was the brains of the family. She used to mix up a bunch of pasta and some homemade wine and have her husband invite a bunch of his cronies that he worked with on the docks to come play cards. Only on payday of course. My Grand Uncle Tony was a pussy whipped son of bitch but he could really play cards. They would eat and drink and play cards until they got most of their paycheck. Then they would lend them some money so their wives wouldn’t stab them when they go home. The vig alone was enough to let them buy five brownstones.
    Just before the peppers and onions were finished Grandma added a capful of White Balsamic vinegar to the mix. She always cooked with vinegar. In fact she was always making vinegar. There were always bottles of wine with a piece of bread stuffed in them on the windowsill in the winter. She made red wine, balsamic, white balsamic even apple cider vinegar. To this day the taste of vinegar was the taste of home cooking.
    Grandma would put the peppers and onions in a metal bowl and then threw the sausages into the frying pan which was slick with the oil from the peppers and onions. She cooked them over a low flame until they were halfway done with  a little burned edge. Then she would put them in the oven to cook all the way through. That was what she always did with pork. Her brother had died from eating bad pork back in Ischia and she vowed to never let anyone in her family do that again.
    "Jamesy you go watcha the cartoons while I finish. We have to wait for everyone to come home before we put it on the table.” “Ok Grandma.”
    I went into the next room which was a combination living and bedroom. There was bed up against the corner wall where we would often sleep when we visited. It served as a sort of couch for the kids to lay on while they watched TV. There was my Uncle V’s armchair and another well stuffed chair with an ottoman. Oh and two TVs.
    I turned on the old Motorola. It looked so old that you would think you could only get Sid Caesar and Milton Berle on it. There was a brand new huge color TV covered with a green vinyl sheet. This was Grandma’s pride and joy. She only let us put it on Sunday nights. To watch Walt Disney. And Bonanza. She loved her cowboys.
    I put on WPIX which was my favorite channel. It was time for the Abbot and Costello show. I loved to watch them along with the Popeye, the Bowery Boys and Buck Rodgers. The only thing that compared was when the Yankees were on.
    I sat in my uncle’s chair and pushed it back to recline. Smelling the sausage and peppers. Watching Costello get yelled at by Bud Abbott. All was right with the world. I felt safe.
    I just didn’t know if I should tell my Da about what happened with Joey.

    Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend.


    Toot’s Shors Saloon, September 28, 1961(J Edgar Hoover and Clyde Tolsen walk into the saloon wearing crisps suits and flowers in their lapels)
    Toots: Hey look at youse fanooks. How you doin' Eddie. And Clyde. What are you doing with this ugly mug.
    Clyde Tolsen: That's for me to know and you to find out sweetie. Come on and give us a kiss.
    J Edgar Hoover: Shut up Clyde. We need a table Toots. We just lost a bundle at Aqueduct.
    Toots: Eddie, Eddie you got to stop betting like that. What is Jack gonna say? He is gonna fire you. I know Bobby hates your guts. He hates fanooks even more then he hates the  Eyetalians.
    J Edgar Hoover: I know that you stupid Sheeny. I need to talk to Joe D.
    Toots: Don't get your panties in an uproar there chief. He's in back. And he is with Marilyn. She just got out of the nuthouse so don't say nuthin about how she looks.
    (Toots walks them to the back where Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe are sitting at a banquet. Joe is wearing two World Series rings. Marilyn is not wearing any panties. She is wearing a white dress and her makeup is mussed and her hair is disheveled. All of her hair so to speak. She is hot and sticky so to cool off she is queefing non stop. Sort of like a mallard with Tourette’s syndrome.)
    Toots: Joe looks who's here. It's the campus couple Eddie and Clyde. Have a seat boys and I will get you a couple of grasshoppers or sumthin.
    Joe DiMaggio:
    Marilyn: ( stands up and extends her hand. Her twat queefs out the National Anthem. She leans forward to whisper in a breathy sexy voice) Hi Mr. Hoover. And look you brought your girlfriend. Nice to see you again. (She extends her hand shyly and tries to shake with J Edgar Hoover but he avoids it as he thinks girls are dirty, but Clyde Tolsen rushes up and hugs her)
    Clyde Tolsen: Oh Norman Jean. I love you. You are so fab. I feel like a candle when I break wind. I want to show you a photo of our rare clumbers. Clouds! Tits! Let me tell you about my bowels.
    Marilyn: Oh that's nice. I love you fellas. I used to room with Wally Cox. Right Joe.
    Joe DiMaggio:
    Marilyn: Joe just helped me check out of the hospital and we are just hanging out.
    Toots: Yeah he checked you out of the crazy house you bug house bitch.
    J Edgar Hoover: I need to talk to Joe for a minute Miss Monroe. What's that smell? Is somebody eating clams? Is there a dead mackerel in the flower pot or something.
    Marilyn: Please don't be angry Mr. Hoover. I don't want to go back to the crazy house.  I know you can do that. I mean you did it to Frances Farmer and Rosemary Kennedy.(She is starting to get anxious and starts queefing up a storm to the tune of the “Flight of the Valkyries.)
    J Edgar Hoover: No seriously. Toots. What's going on? It's like somebody is molesting a dead hallibut.
    Marilyn: It's just very warm in here. It's Indian Summer and Toots is too cheap to turn on the air conditioner.
    J Edgar Hoover: Turn on the air conditioner Toots or I will have to send your wife a copy of that photo of you with your entire head in Joan Blondell’s balloon knot. That's enough to ruin your business right there. Nobody would be able to eat your food again.
    Toots: Ok calm down. I will turn it up. Jeeez are you having menopause or somethin’ you old queen?
    Clyde Tolsen: Calm down Mary. It's just Marilyn's lady parts. She is sweating a little and there is some dew on the bearded clam. Don't you know anything?
    Toots Shor: Blleeaaaahhhh (spits out his drink he’s laughing so hard)
    Marilyn: What’s so funny Toots? Why is he laughing so hard Joe? (Marilyn is getting more anxious and excited and she starts queefing even more furiously to the point that she is secreting and spritzing like Uncle Tanoose doing a spit take.)
    J Edgar Hoover. Enough the whole of youse. Joe I can't work with this fucking Kennedy anymore. He is pushing me and the photo's I have of him with his dick in his retarded sister aren't enough anymore. I need to do something. I know you know who to reach out to so when you are throwing out the first pitch at the stadium to start the series I want you to slip me a couple of phone numbers. I need Santo’s phone number. Not his regular phone. The other one he does business on. Oh and get me Momo to come up to DC to talk.
    Joe DiMaggio:  (Hoover nods at Joe and grabs a protesting Tolsen by the elbow and marches him out of the restaurant)
    Marilyn: (visibly calming down) Thank God they left. Angry queens makes me nervous.  That’s why Jeff Chandler always gave me the willies. So Joe do you want to get a bite before we go home.
    Joe DiMaggio: Yeah a big smelly plate of Bacala just like my mother used to make. With black olives. You know I love the smell of that.
    Marilyn: Oh Joe I love you.

    Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend (The Next Generation)


    Hello?"
    "Hi, is that you Derek?"
    "Yes who is this?"
    "It's me, Mimi.'
    "Mimi who?"
    "Seriously Derek, you can't have forgot me already?"
    "Is that you Cashman? Stop fuckin around."
    "It's me Jeets. Mariah. Mariah Carey."
    "I don't believe you."
    "Look I can prove it to you.....(she caterwauls a high note that makes Derek’s cat jump off the balcony and falls to it’ death. That was ok because Derek never kept the same pussies around for very long. It is what he is known for.)"
    "That doesn't prove anything. Cashman has been a soprano ever since Steinbrenner cut his balls off in 1997."
    "Well if I am not me....how would I know that you used to like when I put on that Nurses outfit with the dildo with the numbers printed on it like a thermometer and shoved it up...."
    "Ok...Ok so it is you Mimi. Was up? I haven't heard from you in a while."
    "I just wanted you to know that I am really lonely these days. I miss you. I have always missed you."
    "Aren’t you married and have a couple of kids or something. To that Nick Popgun guy. I bet your cooze is about the size of a manhole cover after you shit out those twins."
    "They have an operation for that silly. I am as tight as one of those Japanese school girls they used to send up to Hidecki Matsui’s hotel room. You can come up and try it on for size. I have nothing to do now that I got fired off of American Idol."
    "That’s ok Mimi. It might be tight and all but I bet it still smells like the Gowanus Canal on a July night after a dolphin died in it’s own shit."
    "Fuck you ….you no good piece of shit I can't believe the Yankees gave you another contract you washed up piece of sh...(Jeter hangs up the phone)"
    "Jeeez. Everybody's a critic. How am I going to stop this bat shit crazy whore from busting my chop’s. I know. I will text A-Rod her number. They both have a lot of time on their hands. "

     

    What if they used invitro for elderly bloggers in Wisconsin to Spawn with their Lawnboy?


    Thursday, January 16, 2014

    The best Elvis song ever according to Spinelli

    It helps if you imagine that Betty is naked. Just sayn'

    American Idol seems like it is going to be a lot of fun




    So now to be a total hypocrite and talk about something that was all over the web today. American Idol looks like is going to be a lot of fun this year. The new lineup of judges are a lot of fun. Of course this is basically because of Harry Connick Jr. who is wickedly funny and brings a great fun atmosphere to the show.

    You must of seen the clip where he picks up this skinny Paki dude who sings a love song to him while he is holding him in his arms. I know, I know. It sounds kind of gay but it was really funny. Harry is secure enough in himself to pull it off. Wait that came out wrong. Just trust me. Look it up on the web. It is hilarious.

    Thank God they got rid of that piece of shit Niki Minaj. She singlehandedly destroyed the show last year. J-Lo is back and is a great improvement even though she is as dumb as a rock. Harry was explaining the technical aspects of the songs and she was all "you know too much just look at my ass."

    Check it out tonight. I bet you will enjoy it. Maybe year 13 is the charm.

    Whose that naked girl

    You know her you love her. Not a home wrecker but a broad who starred in a lot of TV shows since the 1950's.  Anything she touched was golden so to speak.

    Whose that naked girl?

    Betty Rubble is a Dirty Girl




    Even when the Flintstones went on Vacation she had to be a slut.

    She always wanted to go to the nude beach to let it all hang out.

    You see it didn't matter how much time she spent in the water.

    Betty Rubble stayed a very dirty girl.