Joey Gallo's Lament

Joe and Larry Gallo sat outside the office of the Italian imports company that old man Profaci had been using as a front since the thirties. I mean they did sell pasta and olive oil and cheese and salami and other Italian imports but they also imported a lot of other stuff. It used to be booze and illegal immigrants and now they were branching into other things. The word was that they were going to go into the babania trade in a big way. Which is why the Gallos wanted to get a taste.

They were sitting at the end of the block in a big Chrysler Imperial that had seen better days. Far enough not to be seen but close enough that they could get to the door before the old man got in his car. Normally he only had a driver or at the most his brother in law Joe One Eye. No problem.

The employees left one at a time. Soon the last of the lights went out. The car pulled up with the bodyguard Sallie Shits at the wheel. The door opened. But it wasn't the old man. It was just his brother-in-law.

"SHIT!" Joey yelled. "Where the fuck is the old bastard. Wadda we gonna do with this simple fuck. If we snatch him the old man would just laugh his ass off. SHIT!"

"We gotta grab him Joe. The other guys are making their moves now. If we don't then we have shown our hand with nothing to show for it. We gotta make a move. Now. Lets go." Larry opened the car and walked up to the drivers side and put a pistol in Sallie Shits face. "Nice and easy paisan and nobody gets hurt. Just keep your hands on the wheel and look straight ahead."

Joey was a different story. He rushed up to where Joe One Eye was struggling with the huge key ring for the building. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and banged his head against the door."

"What the fuck? Joey what the fuck you doing" Joe squealed. "Let me go you crazy fuck ubatz!"

"Shadup you stupid stroonz before I blow your fuckin brains all over the street. Where the fuck is the old man? He coming down or what?  ANSWER ME YOU FUCK!" Joey shook him like a terrier shaking a rat. A thin stream of urine started flowing down One Eye's tailored pants. He wasn't a hero. Just a hanger on.

"He's at his house on Bay Parkway. He was sick today. Didn't come in. I swear. Com'on Joe I don't know what your beef is but I swear I can fix it. Just let me talk for you. No need for this. Please Joe. Please."

"Fuck. Larry lets go. This is fucked. Let's get the fuck outta here before the cops show up." Joey grabbed the piss stained old man and dragged him over to the car. He opened the trunk while One Eye struggled and pleaded and pushed the trunk lid down as he wept. Joey took him and banged his head on the back of the trunk hard enough to give the poor bastard a tattoo on his forehead of the Chrysler insignia. Opened it and threw him face down into the trunk. "LET"S GO! NOW!"

Larry Gallo shrugged. "No hard feelings Sallie." And shot him in the eye. Calmly he put the gun back in his pocket and walked back to the car to get behind the wheel. Larry did every thing calmly. Deliberately. Not like his younger brother. That's why he called the tune.

"What the fuck Larry" Joey said as he bounced up and down in his seat "wadda we gonna do now?" Larry turned the key and looked at his brother. "We're gonna take a ride. To Bay Parkway."

He pulled smoothly out of the space and headed over to the Prospect Expressway.

Diamonds are a girls best friend

Toot’s Shors Saloon, September 28, 1961(J Edgar Hoover and Clyde Tolsen stroll into the saloon wearing crisp matching 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.
Marilyn: Shut up you dirty hebe. Don't let him talk to me like that Joe. What's the matter with you!
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 halibut. 
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. Clyde take Miss Monroe over to bar and get her a cocktail. Or a washcloth.( Clyde takes Marilyn by the hand and leads her over to bar where they order grasshoppers)
J Edgar Hoover: Joe I can't work with this fucking lace curtain prick 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. And I need to speak to Carlos down in New Orleans. Oh and get me Momo to come up to DC to talk or I will publish those photos I have of the Maguire sisters with the midget.
Joe DiMaggio: 
J Edgar Hoover: Thanks Joe. Just so we understand each other. One hand washes the other. Remember I can publish those photos of Ted Williams with the kid from the Salvation Army any time you want if they start up with that greatest living player bullshit again and don't pick you. It's in the bag. (Hoover nods at Joe, goes to the bar and grabs a protesting Tolsen by the elbow and marches him out of the restaurant)
Marilyn: (visibly calming down as she walks back to the table) 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.

Marilyn's Diary

My Uncle Herman was very artistic. He loved to sing and play his guitar. Our whole family was very musical. Aunt Lily was concert quality on the harp. And of course Grandpa sucked on the organ. But music was not enough for Uncle Herman.

He loved to write and put his feelings down on paper. Of course he had a lot of feelings coursing through his body. After all his body was made of 1,652 different pieces from various people from the old country. So he had a lot to express.

He would go out to coffeehouses and read his poetry. He became great friends with some of the Beat poets and the Beat generation generally. Allen Ginsberg loved him or at least tried to every time he saw him. Neal Cassidy borrowed his motorcycle and sent over left over tabs of LSD that Ken Kersey had lying around the bus. Uncle Herman was right in the middle of the movement.

But all that didn't manner when he came home and sneaked up to my room after Aunt Lily went to sleep. Then I became the Beat poet. Or more like the Beat the Meat poet. I would take him in my hand and slowly move it up and down gradually increasing the tempo until......errrr.....it was poetry.

Check out Grantchester if you get a chance

It is on PBS and Amazon Prime.

I have been enjoying Grantchester

Which is a detective show on Masterpiece Theatre. It is about a English Vicar who solves crime. He is a pretty cool and played by James Norton who as so good in "Happy Valley" and enjoys banging German broads and drinking Whiskey. Best of all he is a big Jazz fan with good taste. Here is Sidney Bechet who is the dominant sound. Enjoy.

I miss the old shows

I mean the ones that had Connie Hines instead of Lena Dunham.sw

Hey two things.....

Sorry I have been too busy to post these last couple weeks.

I forget the other one.

I put some new music on the ipad

But Lisa is not gonna let me play Louie when she is in the front store.

Whose that girl?

A hot number from the fifties who loved to sing in Vegas. She is a little French minx with a wonderful voice who knew how to dress. Or not.

Whose that girl??

Something to watch instead of some dopey movie about Martin Luther King!

Two seasons are available from Net Flicks. The dude who is starring in Fifty Shades of Grey is the killer in this great Irish series.

One of the best shows on TV

Way better than many movies that are out right now. Check it out!

"A Walk Among the Tombstones" is dead to me.

To pick up the discussion in another thread blake said he would recommend "A Walk Among the Tombstones" as a current movie I might enjoy. Here is his review in his own fine blog "The Bit Maelstrom."

As I had mentioned I thought this adaptation of Lawrence Block's novel was horrible but then that's me. I am generally pissed at movie adaptations because they almost always suck. Especially detective or crime novels which always lose their tone or feeling when transcribed to the screen.

Here are the problems with this adaptation. The essence of Matt Scudder in the Block novels is his alcoholism. It is a presence in the books. It really got short shrift here. The keep a lot of the set ups from the book but they are just poorly executed. The only thing they did right was the "origin story" you know where he got bit by the radioactive spider. In this case it was when his errant bullet killed Estrellita Rivera in Washington Heights after a bar shoot out. That part was well done. As Pete mentions in the comments at Blake's joint the character of TJ was really misplayed. He was much more resourceful in the books and helps Scudder with Computer hackers who get him the phone numbers. They really should have made it a period piece instead of trying to update it to the year 2000. All in all it is a misfire.

Not as bad as the last translation of a Scudder book into the movies. That was an abortion called "Eight Million Ways to Die" starring Jeff Bridges made in 1986. In that they move the scene to LA instead of New York. It is just about the worst adaptation I have ever seen from book to movie.

It really pisses me off when they kill a good book like this. I mean I have seen some great adaptations lately. The Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones are two examples of exemplary translations from book to screen. An even better example is "Justified" where they really captured Elmore Leonard's sensibility. You don't care about the details when they get the feel right. But if they can't capture the sensibility then you start to nitpick. Or at least I do.

A real misfire. I am just ecstatic that they did not make my favorite Scudder book "When the Sacred Ginmill Closes." At least I have that to hold on too while I watch TV.

Hey I am looking at you stud!

Nowhere fast

Streets Of Fire

Walter Hill. A hot Diane Lane when she was nineteen.

Music. Mayhem

What else do you need

We call it Mazie

Today's Gratuitous Bathtub Scene is dedicated to all of the commenters we have left behind

You the people we used to interact with but are not longer around. For one reason or another. I mean you don't necessarily miss them but you would hear from them every day.

People like MadisonMan, Garage Mahal, Robert Cook or AJ Lynch.

And of course the people you really are glad to not hear from. Titus. J. Loafing Oaf. Luckyoldson. Rcommal.

Cedarford.

I hear he has found other things to do. Just sayn'

Whose that girl?

She is the co-star of a British series I have been enjoying lately. She eats a lot of fish but is not a lesbian. It is just because of where the series is set. Michael Haz doesn't care for that location but what are you gonna do. Call the Doctor?

It is going to get messy. I hope he is not afraid of blood.

Whose that girl?

Guest Post by Michael Haz

Michael Haz said:
Here's the thing (and it will sound familiar to someone who heard me explain it last week): Call it Haz's Corn Theory of Blogs. 

I have come to view blogs as cans of corn on the shelf in a grocery store. No matter how clever the label, no matter how catchy and enticing the graphics, no matter how tempting the price, when you open the can, it's still the same corn it has always been.

Corn. Corn. Corn. Corn. Corn.

Now, I like farmers who grow the corn, most of them at least. And I like the people who pick and process and can the corn. And ditto the people who ship the corn, and who put it on the grocery store shelves.

I'm just tired of the corn, the same old corn every time I open the can, no matter how clever the label. 

So I stopped buying corn; and most of the other things in the vegetable aisle. At least for a while, perhaps.

And I stopped growing and canning my own corn. My blog has gone dormant. No mo corn to process, and I'm out of seeds.

It's early February, and I'm starting the adventure season early this year. A man is given only so many years, and they best be used wisely. It's too cold to motorcycle, so Mrs. Haz and I are hitting the road tomorrow morning in the Hupmoble, headed to the land of palm trees and beaches.

I may be a geezer, but I still know how to do a killa good Spring break on the beaches. Watch for me on the Nat Geo Channel. I'll be wearing beads.

I tend to agree with Michael. I have been very busy lately. But then I am always busy. Lisa lost her uncle and aunt two weeks apart and the wakes and funerals have been devastating. We had someone quit on us so we are shorthanded. Lots of other problems but that is par for the course.

I don't have enough time to write up the posts I want to write like I used to last year. So sometimes I don't log on at all during the day. Plus I don't get as emotionally involved as I used to back in the day. Lem's blog has quieted down a lot so there is not much conflict there and the only other blog I am currently following is Turley on Nick's recomendation and that seems more of the same old, same old. I mean you have to be tired of jousting with Inga all the time. It is just not worth it. The people there seem very earnest but basically boring and pedantic in the extreme so it is not even worth breaking a sweat.

Maybe I should follow Michael's example and hit the road. He is born to be wild. Ride with the wind good buddy:

The Case of the Demented Diasporia

My dear Holmes,

It is your most humble petitioner, Inspector Lestrade. It has been some time since I have stopped requesting assistance in the troubling matter of the salon frequented by Lady Chatterley and her merry band of sycophants, lickspittles and refugees from Bedlam. That curious case had dragged on and on but is now considered dead. It seems to have escaped the notice of so many who at one time claimed the deepest interest and concern, but seems that den of iniquity has sunken into irrelevancy and is no longer our concern. However now it seems that new developments in different precincts lead me to believe that we must concentrate on more immediate concerns.

As I had previously noted in one of  my prior missives, I or my agents had at one time or another have attended many of the salons of the noted conversationalist and dilettante Lady Chatterley where Lord Douchebag was a frequent and much valued guest. In fact it has been told to me that the Lady in question has often referred to him as wonderful. What is most striking is that his name has not passed the lips of any of the many participants for lo these many months and it is as if he never existed. He is never referred to or referenced in any way which is passing strange since so many professed an acute admiration for his talents such as they were.  This place is now deserted and lonely most of the time as so many of the participants have fled to what they must feel are more salubrious environment.

The Yard has ceased its inquiries into the doings of this perverted salon as contact has soiled the reputations and the very psyche of any agents we have sent to observe the untoward activities of these demented sybarites. It seems that this group has scattered to the four winds never to be gathered together in its disreputable glory. Several have decamped to a pestilence filled tavern run by a drunken Latin sailor who has not two wits to rub together. It had some currency for a while but now it seems to be have been mostly deserted as most have been chased away by the ranting conversation of the chef who never lets one word do the work when fifty could be shouted at the top of his lungs. His discourses on politics and society are loudly and emphaticly shouted and most ignore it as best they can because they wait his discussion of the proper preparation of spotted dick which is his specialty.

Some others of these poor souls have decamped for all places a solicitor’s office where conversation is carried on in muted tones subject to rules and regulations that are beyond my keen. The level of discourse seems quite banal yet soothing to many of a limited intellect and diminished sensibility similar to that of a toad or turtle. How this has come to pass is a mystery but it is to be hoped that these people will amuse themselves sufficiently so that they will not trouble the rest of society.

My question to you is do you know of a way to ensure that this rabble will be contained in these various sinkholes and kept away from any social intercourse with the rest of our society. I feel that the safety of her Majesty’s realm depends upon it.

I hope all is well with you and Doctor Watson and I hope that he has recovered from that strange malady that struck him last December. I note that he has not returned to the club since he lost all of his hair and the little finger on his left hand. I trust that this was the result of a case and not a more serious malady. I can suggest certain exercises that might ensure the return of certain hirsute characteristics but it would only be effective for his palm and not help him with the loss of a finger so to speak.

In any event give him my regards.

I remain as always,
Your obedient servant,
Inspector G. Lestrade
Scotland Yard
December 15, 1899

Why Sports have lost me!

I used to be a great sports fan. I had season tickets to the Yankees, Knicks and Giants. I had season tickets to St. Johns College b-ball and Saturday night fights at the Felt Forum. I went to about six championship fights. I knew every player on every team on every sport. I always had the game on if I wasn't actually at the stadium or the Garden.

But I have lost all of that.

The pressure of work and finance made me give up the tickets. I had to put all my resources and time into the store so I couldn't take the time to go to the game, Most of all I got tied of how the owners treated the fans. It really became noticeable to me this Super Bowl. I didn't see a minute of the game. Now I had a good excuse. I was out at a wake. But even when my cousins were chatting about it and about the Jets and Giants I just wasn't engaged anymore. I can't seem to summon up the interest to even debate any more.

It is all because of jerkoffs like this guy:

NewYork Post February8, 2015

James Dolan is taking out his 10-41 frustrations on the fans.

The Knicks owner fired off a vindictive email telling a longtime fan he should “start rooting.for the Nets because the Knicks dont want you,” among far more malicious comments, a source confirmed.

Dolan was lashing out at the father of filmmaker Aaron Bierman, who had written a fairly boilerplate angry message to the owner calling for him to sell the team,as Deadspin first reported. Dolan’s response to the “Knicks fan since 1952″ was a presumption-filled mess of personal shots. (Sic all):

“I am.just guessing but ill bet your life is a mess and you are a hateful mess,” Dolan wrote. “What have you done that anyone would consider positive or nice. I am betting nothing. In fact ill bet you are negative force in everyone who comes in contact with you. You most likely have made your family miserable. Alcoholic maybe. I just celebrated my 21 year anniversary of sobriety. You should try it. Maybe it will help you become a person that folks would like to have around. In the mean while start rooting.for the Nets because the Knicks dont want you.”

Through a spokesman, Dolan declined comment.

The Cablevision CEO was retaliating to an email highly critical of him, which offered a brief rundown of the many nadirs the Knicks have hit under Dolan’s ownership.

“At one stage I thought that you did a wonderful thing when you acquired EVERYTHING from your dad,” Bierman’s father wrote. “However, since then it has been ALL DOWN HILL. Your working with Isaiah Thomas & everything else regarding the Knicks. Bringing on Phil Jackson was a positive beginning, but lowballing Steve Kerr was a DISGRACE to the knicks. The bottom line is that you merely continued to interfere with the franchise.

“As a knicks fan for in excess of 60 years, I am utterly embarrassed by your dealings with the Knicks. Sell them so their fans can at least look forward to growing them in a positive direction Obviously, money IS NOT THE ONLY THING. You have done a lot of utterly STUPID business things with the franchise. Please NO MORE.”

Finally something the Pope and I agree on.....But is he Catholic?

The Guardian February 5, 2015  Pope Francis  told parents it is OK to spank their children to discipline them – as long as their dignity is maintained.

Francis made the remarks this week during his weekly general audience, which was devoted to the role of fathers in the family.

Francis outlined the traits of a good father: one who forgives but is able to “correct with firmness” while not discouraging the child.

“One time, I heard a father in a meeting with married couples say ‘I sometimes have to smack my children a bit, but never in the face so as to not humiliate them’,” Francis said.

“How beautiful.” he added. “He knows the sense of dignity! He has to punish them but does it justly and moves on.”

Finally something we can agree on. Give those little bastards a couple of smacks for crying out loud. 

"Hey if you want to cry I can give you something to cry about!"

"GET OFF OF MY LAWN!"

Instant Replay The Unedited Edition

Coach Lombardi was very tough on celebrations on the field. He didn’t go for people who taunted the other team and rubbed their noses in it. He always said when you score a touchdown “Just hand the ball to ref and walk away. Act like you have been there before.” Which means the end zone of course.

Most of our players adhered to those rules. I mean some of the Negro players were a little more animated. Elijah Pitts did a Watusi dance once and the Coach suspended him for two games. I thought that was a little harsh. I mean he was caught up in the action and got over enthusiastic and excited. Sort of like Hornung when he would shower with the rookies in training camp.

The thing about celebrations is the most unlikely guys sometimes surprised you. I remember in the playoff bowl against the Cleveland Browns Tom Moore caught a swing pass and ran 99 yards for a touchdown. He couldn’t believe it. He was just a back-up and here was his chance to shine. He scored two TDs in that game. But on this one he made a big mistake.  

You see after he ran 99 yards he took the ball and threw it as hard as he could into the ground and it bounced up in the air. They call that a spike or something like that there. That was the first time we saw it and of all people Tom Moore did it!

When he realized what he had done he was very shamefaced. He sort of sidled back to the sideline and tried to stay away from Coach. He didn’t want to be reprimanded. He was very sensitive that way. Coach knew that so he didn’t yell and scream. When he called him to carry in a play on the next offense sequence he knew what to do.

He burned him with his cigarette.

(Instant Replay- The Unedited Edition, Jerry Kramer & Dick Schaap Random House, 1968)

Snow days ....yeah right

So Comrade Bill De Blasio and Capo Andrew Cuomo decided to shut the city down because of bogus reports of a deadly snowstorm. The dick governor shut down the subway screwing working people who have to come home late at night. He screwed every busboy and dishwasher and restaurant worker and bar back who doesn't get paid if he doesn't work and didn't have a way to get home to the apartment in Queens he shares with 50 other Mexicans.

It never used to be like this. The subway always ran during snow storms. In fact it ran now because the trains have to run to keep the tracks viable. They just kept the people off the trains including the homeless people who could shelter on the train or in the stations. Of course De Blasio and Cuomo don't give a shit about working people or homeless people. They just pretend to care. Fens law.

We closed the store early after snow proofing it. Nobody was shopping and we covered stuff with plastic in case a window broke and snow drifted in. Luckily nothing happened.

Tuesday is our normal off day anyway so we decided to stock up with some stuff in case the storm was bad even though we thought it would be a bust. We needed the bread and milk ya know:

Not that we needed them. I mean I did buy eggs but I only got wraps and pita bread.m. I got the almond milk. I did load up with fresh veggies. You always have to worry about scurvy. I went to Gourmet Fresh to talk to Juan Carlos our friend who handles the produce department.

We have onions we are good. Along with the lemons in the basket and the strawberries and lettuce and all of the rest of the shit I eat these days instead of burgers and fries.

We muddled through once again.

It takes one to know one

So the filthy A-rabs in Jordan know how to negotiate with terrorists. The Jordanians know the only thing that they understand is a boot on their neck. So they told them if they kill the Jordanian pilot then they will kill the prisoners they are holding. Immediately.

That's the way you do it. As reported in the New York Post:“I have reliable contact in the Jordanian government who says a message has been passed to ISIS,” said Elijah Magnier, chief international correspondent for Kuwait’s Al Rai newspaper. “It warns that if they kill the pilot, they will implement the death sentences for Sajida and other ISIS prisoners as soon as possible. There are other prisoners in Jordan that ISIS would like to free.”

Of course the pussies that run our government would never do that. Instead they will trade murdering terrorists for deserters. Obama wants the terrorists to win.

De Blasio pefers to pay people who attack cops because....I don't know why?

New York City has settled a nuisance suit by a machete wielding maniac who attacked cops for  $5000. Ruhim Ullah attacked cops with a machete in 2010. He was shot in the leg and subdued by other officers but filed a multi-million dollar lawsuit that he was sure to lose. Rather than fight this suit the city paid him off. There were a ton of witnesses and he plead guilty to menacing in an obvious plea bargain.

So it is just another added inducement for attacks on the police and the general order. De Blasio has quickly settled several suits in favor of "progressive" elements which have cost the city multi millions of dollars. The New York Post notes: 'City lawyers signed off on a $98 million settlement last March over a longstanding class-action discrimination case brought by minority FDNY applicants over unfair hiring practices. The de Blasio administration also settled the notorious Central Park Five case for $41 million last September. De Blasio also ponied up $18 million in taxpayer cash to protesters who sued the city after being arrested at the 2004 Republican National Convention."

Comrade Bill de Blasio. Redistributing wealth one criminal at a time.

Instant Replay-the Unedited Edition

Coach Lombardi was insistent that we pay attention to every detail. He worried about the lights in the film room and the food at the training table. The paper used to print up the play books. The size and type of towels in the locker room.

But most of all he was concerned about the balls.

Not his balls of course. The balls we used to play the game with on the field. You see depending on how the ball was inflated it could do different things. If it was inflated to the max when you kicked it would go really far. If it was deflated then it was easier for Bart Starr to grip and for the receivers to catch in the freezing cold tundra of Lambeau field. Of course you couldn't deflate them too much because of Hornung. You see he like to put them in his mouth. He was funny that way.

Coach Lombardi was super strict about all of the equipment. The tackling sleds. The whirlpool. And of course the tackling dummies. He always tested them every training camp. He wanted to make sure they were big enough and hard enough. That is why he would sit on them and feel them between his cheeks.

At least that is what he said. Hey. He's the Coach.

(Instant Replay- The Unedited Edition, Jerry Kramer & Dick Schaap Random House 1968)

Marilyn's Diary

My Uncle Herman wasn't a violent man. I mean parts of him were violent. Because he was made up of about a thousand parts of various dead people. His torso came from a gladiator. His arms from a Polish hussar. And his penis came from a rapist. But still and all he was very gentle.

And musical. He loved to play several insturments. So much that various musicians used to call him in to do session work. That is where Aunt Lily met her friend Charlie who was hanging out with Dennis Wilson of the beach boys. These young musicians loved to hang out with Uncle Herman because he was older and a man of the world. They loved to copy him. His licks. His mannerisms. There was this deaf English guy who was a talented musician and writer but who had an unhealthy interest in my little pervert cousin Eddie. Anyhoo he copied Uncle Herman's signature move of banging his guitar over and over again.

You see Uncle Herman loved to bang. I loved when he did.

It's all good!

Went to the doctor today. Everything seems to be good. We were under a lot of stress over the weekend and felt a little fluttery and wanted to be sure ever was on the level. It was and I got a clean bill.

What was cool was that we were the last patients and the doc came over to the store and bought a bunch of lingerie for his wife.

I almost got my co-payment back.

I know youse guys ain't nosey.....

But I will be away for a couple of days so I am posting even less than usual. We had a death in the extended family so we will be away at the end of Long Island until Tuesday. It is too far to go back and forth to Brooklyn so we will stay at our cousins house and go to the wakes and funeral.

We will be on time and nobody will wear jeans. Just sayn'

Is the Pope Catholic or will he punch you in the nose

Pope Francis has made some more news which I am sure you are all aware. He sort of came down on the side of censorship of the cartoons that are causing all the trouble in France.

I am not surprised. He is after all an ultra-liberals and all liberals are in the camp of protecting Islam no matter what crimes they commit. The liberals are all for censoring speech that offends the Muslims and he signed right on with that. He is firmly in the Ecumenical camp which is not unusual for Popes so it is unlikely that he would be in favor of freedom of the press instead of kissing up to the ragheads. I guess I could understand it if he was as outspoken about Catholic imagery being perverted. It seems that every other TV show I see is set in a Church and the sacred symbols are treated like garbage. Haven't heard him speak out much about that.

I will give you an example. Last season on the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills there was this dumb cunt named Carlton who claimed to be a Wiccan but had all sorts of Catholic symbols in her house. Crucifixes, Celtic Crosses and a full confessional booth that she delighted in saying she enjoyed having sex in all the time. It went unmentioned.

There was a very short lived sitcom called Partners that starred Kelsey Grammer and Martin Lawrence. In the first episode the set up was that a Catholic priest was having an affair with Martin's estranged wife. They broke into the rectory and rifled through the priest things included a suitcase that contained a chalice and a monstrance that holds the Sacrament. Nobody said boo. No biggie.

I mentioned at Father Foxes place a strange occurrence at Midnight Mass. There were a whole bunch of people you never saw before. Not unusual in a big holiday. Anway there was this one hipster tattooed blue haired chick who took the host in her hand and started to walk away. She didn't put it in her mouth. The 80 year old minister started chasing her down the aisle because it seemed she took the host for some nefarious purpose. Maybe for some art project. Maybe for a Black Mass or some Satanic bullshit. The girl goes."Ok Ok stop it" and put the host in her mouth.

I wonder if the Pope would have punched her in the face?

Like butter......

So we were kind of depressed on our ride back to New York from Florida. After all the weather was great in Florida and we left the kids and we were going back to work and the cold. We needed something to help make the trip fun. So we decided to stop in Savannah.

To visit Paula Dean.

You see Glen's parents are big time friends of Paula Dean. His father once ordered 2,000 sandwiches from her when he was in the service and it sort of gave her a bunch of publicity and helped launch her business. Therefore we thought it would be fun to visit her restaurant.

It's a four story joint called "The Lady and Sons" restaurant. It was very well organized. You gave your name and waited about half an hour in her adjacent store to buy various do dads and take a picture with Paula. We killed some time and picked up a couple of souvenirs.

Of course she is not the way the main stream media portrays her. She has no problems with black people. Well brown people. She even let Omar grab her ass.

The menu is very limited. Lots of butter. Lots of fat. We decided on the buffet which was what most of the people seemed to order. The kid serving us was very nice and kept us filled with sweet tea and stuff.

The first thing we got was Fried Green Tomatoes. It was very authentic. It was served by a lesbian food runner.

It sort of gave me a clue to be easy on what I ordered. I mean we were in the middle of a twenty two hour drive and I didn't want to get the runs. So I decided to go slow on the buffet.

On the other hand Omar went nuts. He did the fried chicken and macaroni and cheese. With several helpings.

I just did the pulled pork, mashed potatoes, salad and baked beans. So I was ok. Well until we got to Virgina and we had to pull over to drop a Yule Log. But that's another story.

Lisa and Omar had indigestion immediately and I had to go into a hipster coffee shop and bully the barista to sell me two full cups of almond milk to settle their stomachs. That works great by the way for an upset stomach. Much, much better than regular milk.

I don't know how youse guys down south do it if you eat this stuff all the time. I mean every single person in the joint filled up with two and three plates of stuff. Don't get me wrong. I am not a big fan of fried chicken. That's for moolies. If it was sausage and peppers or pasta I would have been right in there eating like a pig. But this stuff is not for me. I tried it. I can mark that off my list I guess.

Along with taking a dump in Virgina.

The Return of the Douchebag

My dear Holmes,

It is your most humble petitioner, Inspector Lestrade. It has been some time since I have stopped requesting assistance in the troubling matter of the disappearance of Lord Douchebag which you might not recall as it happened several years ago. That curious case had dragged on and on but is now considered dead. It seems to have escaped the notice of so many who at one time claimed the deepest interest and concern, but who have gone on as though nothing had happened. It is as though Lord Douchebag never existed. However now it seems that new developments lead me to believe that we must concentrate on more immediate concerns.

As I had previously noted in one of  my prior missives, I or my agents had at one time or another have attended many of the salons of the noted conversationalist and dilettante Lady Chatterley where Lord Douchebag was a frequent and much valued guest. In fact it has been told to me that the Lady in question has often referred to him as wonderful. What is most striking is that his name has not passed the lips of any of the many participants for lo these many months and it is as if he never existed. He is never referred to or referenced in any way which is passing strange since so many professed an acute admiration for his talents such as they were.

The Yard has ceased its inquiries into the doings of this disreputable salon as contact has soiled the reputations and the very psyche of any agents we have sent to observe the untoward activities of these demented sybarites. However it has been communicated to us that the name of Lord Douchebag has been mentioned several times in the last few days. In fact the foul leader of this coven has written to all of her disciples asking that Lord Douchebag be remembered and celebrated. This seems passing strange as he seems to have been forgotten by all and sundry these many months. Why bring him up now? Perhaps there is some fresh devilment in store as the Devil casts out for the help of her lesser demons. It is passing strange and I request you thoughts as to why it has happened.

I hope all is well with you and Doctor Watson and wish that you convey my best wishes to your estimable brother Mycroft. I would note that he had a terrible falling out with Lady Chatterley or more accurately with her lover the underemployed gardener. I understand he has been out of communication with most of his friends and has not appeared at the club for quite some time. I hope all is well with him.

In any event give him my regards.

I remain as always,
Your obedient servant,
Inspector G. Lestrade
Scotland Yard
December 15, 1899

It's a dogs life in Florida.....

Sitting around the porch on the warm night scratching your balls.

Who would want to go back to the snow?

Bill De Blasio doesn't know a freaking thing about respect.

Red Bill De Blasio has commented on the fact that some police officers turned their back on his empty eulogy at that funeral for Officer Liu. The Sandinista fan said:

“Those individuals who took certain actions this last week––or last two weeks, really––they were disrespectful to the families involved. That’s the bottom line. They were disrespectful to the families who had lost their loved one. And I can’t understand why anyone would do such a thing in a context like that.”

Let's review who was disrespectful and who was not. De Blasio did not show up for the wake for Officer Ramos until 9pm after it was over. He missed the eulogy from the Officer's minister and more importantly the moving tribute from his son. What did he possibly have to do that was more important than being there early to show his "respects." This is the guy who went to the gym instead of attending the funeral of Herman Badillo who was a pioneering leader in the Hispanic Community. What does he have against Hispanics?

Did you ever attend a wake? What you do is you show up early and show your respects. You sit quietly and maybe say a prayer. You might participate when the priest or minister or rabbi says a prayer. I have been at wakes and memorials and services for almost every religion and creed in my day and I always saw everyone show up on time and be respectful.

He didn't show up late for Officer Liu's service. He came. He stayed for fifteen minutes. FIFTEEN MINUTES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What did he have to do that was so important that he couldn't stay for more than the time it takes to fry up an eggroll. What does he have against Chinese people?

What does he have against Cops?

We know what he has against them. He had to warn his son that he might get killed by a racist cop when he is much more likely to get hit by lightning or eaten by a shark. He had to reinstate the Judge who let a perp walk who had posted terroristic threats against the NYPD just like the guy who ended up killing the two officers. He defended the chief of staff who has a boyfriend who is a career criminal. He has members of the his administration who post things like "Fuck the Police" on their twitter.

The proof is in the pudding. The pudding that is Al Sharpton that sits at his right hand when he makes decisions about policing the city.

I won't get into his wife and her associates and attitudes. I will just let you know that she wore a pair of jeans to the funeral.

Respect. Yeah. Right.

We're back!

After at twenty two hour drive from Florida we got back on Saturday morning around 11 am. We were so wiped out that we slept the rest of the day and came into work on Sunday.

More details about the trip to follow.

Here we are at a great Maryland rest stop. They had everything. Most of the rest stops really sucked. Especially in South Carolina. It was a horror story.

Kayaking off into the distance....so to speak

If you haven't figured it out I have a new I phone and I am learning how to download videos.

Some of them are two long and I have to edit them to be able to email them.

I will get the hang of it eventually..

More Kayaking................a bunch of fun!

Kayaking with Lee Lee is just a bunch of fun.

You still can't beat kayaking for having a laugh

Or a scream. So to speak.

Our vacation is over and we are heading back to reality.

On the road all day tomorrow.

You never know who you will see on the Inter-Coastal....

Davy Crockett..............and Santa!

Hanging on the sandbar at Sackett St

Hanging on the Sandbar is like hanging around the corner.

Just in you bathing suit.

Well you can do that on Sackett Street too!

A view of Old Florida.......Johnny Ola a lonely nation turns it's eyes to you

You can see the old buildings from the inter-coastal....even Meyer's old house. Where Johnny Ola hung his hat before he tried to off Michael Corleone.

You need to make plans........

Next year......Napa!

Omar says he is ready to drive!!!!!!

Battleship.....BattleAxe....you never know you will run into in Florida

You never know what rotten disgusting hulk you might run into. Covered in barnacles and smelling like bad fish. Old and grey and pretty much useless.

Keep you distance. It is just sad. Really.

Shiver me burgers it's lunch time

It is time for lunch at the boatyard restaurant. Burgers all around. Iced tea of course. Then back on the waterway.