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Monthly Archives: March 2014

“I was just 34 years old,
I was still wandering in a haze…”

Pete Townshend
Slit Skirts

Here are the top ten things I learned this week:

10. It dawned on me tonight that I had hid some cash into an album cover a few weeks ago. It hasn’t yet dawned on me as to which one it was.

9. The lady on Google Maps is just like a spouse sometimes. She knows everything, interrupts my music when she speaks, stops talking when I get a phone call and has the patience of Job when I take a wrong turn. If she would just laugh once in a while, I would just go ahead and marry my iphone.

8. I’ve recently overcome my abject avoidance of the “Canadian Tuxedo”. If it was good enough for Billy Jack and Beretta, then it’s good enough for me!


7. If you really have to go the can at my place of employment, begging doesn’t help should you find all the stalls occupied. The only thing you will hear in response to your cries for mercy is,…..the slow turning of a newspaper.

6.There are three Beatles albums that don’t have the Beatle’s name on the front cover. Can you guess which ones? *(Answers at bottom of the post)*

5. People say we have hit rock bottom in this country with the ridiculous sanctions that Obama has just imposed on the 7 personal advisors to Putin. I say, not even close. You hit rock bottom when you’re a half-drunk, hungover butt-hag sittin’ in front of a plate of stale eggs with a half-dozen “Pall-Malls” crushed out in the yolks in a corner booth of a “Shoney’s”,….just off the turnpike outside of Gary, Indiana at 4am on a Wed morning. That’s rock bottom.

4. Two “Marley’s Mellow Moods” really mellow and level me out. (It’s green tea, btw,….)

3. My piano has really been the catch-all for bills and stuff. I should remedy to change that.

2. Spraying yourself with “BOD Really Ripped Abs” doesn’t substitute for a much needed shower.

1. I, literally, can sleep 16 hours a day. The question is, “Can I get paid for it?”

*Abbey Road, Revolver and Let It Be*



“If some of ya’ll never been down South too much…
I’m gonna tell you a little bit about this, so that you’ll understand,
What I’m talking about,….”

Polk Salad Annie

A few years ago, I had seen a cooking show in which Elvis’s cook demonstrated the making of Elvis’s favorite sandwich. This is the real deal. It’s been a staple in my house ever since. It is truly decadent.

Here are the ingredients you will need:

1 banana
4 teaspoons of peanut butter
brown sugar
2 slices of Italian bread.


Take the butter and butter up one side of each slice of bread.


Place a generous amount of brown sugar on the buttered side of each slice of bread. Most of the brown sugar will adhere to the bread due to the adhesive nature of the butter.


Place in pan with the buttered and brown sugared side down. Don’t worry if a bit of brown sugar falls off while flipping it. It will still be put to good use.


Dissect banana. Should a small dog appear like what just happened here, just ignore him. He just had some kibble.


Peel banana and place into small bowl. Continue to ignore the filthy little beggar with the sad eyes.


Smash banana until it becomes almost like baby food. The banana will take on a wet-like consistency. This is to be desired. Continue to ignore the fat bastard to the right.


Spread peanut butter on dry side of bread that is in pan. I like to use crunchy, but if you don’t like that, creamy works just as well. I would not use organic peanut butter however. I believe Elvis would disavow that in his sandwiches.


Place smashed banana onto one side of the peanut-buttered bread, then top with a small amount of brown sugar. This will give a certain sweetness to the banana mixture.


Place in pan and grill fry over medium heat, you would a grilled cheese. The brown sugar on the other side of the bread will begin to crystalize. This is to be desired for crunch effect.


Flip together and grill the both sides of the sandwich. You will notice the brown sugar taking on a harder texture due to the heat. That’s what’s considered as being, “the good stuff”,…oh, yeah.


Once the sandwich is grilled throughly on both sides, remove and place on a cutting board.


Dissect the sandwich at the corners. The peanut butter/banana paste may spill out a bit due to the pressure of the knife. This is to be desired for presentation.


Serve promptly with a garnishment of a dill pickle and a packet of natural cane turbinado sugar. An ice cold root-beer would be a good choice of a beverage to go with this meal.


And that’s that!

Easy enough.

(Oh, alright, already!! Give him some! How can you turn that hungry face away? Geez. What a beggar! I hope he chokes on it!)



“So, I walk up on high,
And I step to the edge,
To see my world below.
And I laugh at myself,
While the tears roll down,
‘Cause it’s the world I know,
It’s the world I know,….”

Collective Soul
The World I Know

Here are the top ten things I learned this week:

10. In spite of all my attempts to not like hummus, I finally had to surrender to the fact that I actually do. It reminds me of the the great sushi surrender of 2011.

9. If a friend starts pounding on my side door at noon and I haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet, he will get a salty reception,…without exception.

8. When a total fox of a doctor looks you in the eye and softly says, “We’re gonna be best friends for a while”,…(while placing her lovely hand softly on my shoulder)….it takes on a totally bogus hue when she follows that sentence with, “because that definitely is cancer.” It becomes even more bogus if you are sitting there completely naked,….like I was. Sheesh.

7. Why is a bottle of wine in the hands of a poor person considered pathetic, but in the hands of a rich person, it’s considered refined and urbane? Even if it is the exact same bottle of wine?

6.Revolving doors scare me ever since I saw the Godfather II.

5. Flying scares me ever since I started working in the Aero-Space field.

4. Clowns scare me ever since I saw that picture of John Wayne Gacy dressed up as a clown…with all that fucked up lip-stick.

3.I still remember where I was when I heard about 9/11. I was peeing. It was on the radio on the back of the toilet. I was wearing sweat pants that had a white stripe down the side and a black t-shirt to compliment it. I ate Apple Jacks that day. I had a small cup of coffee…..with cream and two sugars. I bought a Wendy’s Jr. cheeseburger deluxe on my way to work that day. I called my mom and told her not to go shopping that day. I told her to just watch TV,…or a movie. A movie like the Sound Of Music or something. I remember telling her to stick a movie into the VCR….not to watch TV. That there was nothing on TV. Turn on a movie. Make sure it’s a movie. No TV.

2. I got two meatball sandwiches from Subway today. The price was $5.75 a piece. They only charged me ten dollars. I guess I made a little “bread’ on that transaction. (pardon the pun)

1. A gun WILL shoot without a Yoke,…or Crane screw in it.


“Wake me up when September ends,…”

Green Day
Wake Me Up When September Ends

I find it truly amazing as to how this winter is absolutely and totally sapping me of all my energies. I thought it a lark at first. Something that would ease up as if by surprise, in which the forecast was wrong and we could all go pleasantly about our day.

I see the St. Patrick’s Day green in all the stores and it remains a numb finger in the frigid wind to tell us where the meteorological ship is heading,…but I feel as if we are farther out at sea than we realize. The days are getting longer, but the nights remain steadfastly colder.

And it’s not that I’m a summer person. Summer, to me, is the worst season of the year. I adore autumn.


The decay that begins to transpire around September is always a welcome relief from the dog-days of summer. That doesn’t mean that September falls under the category of a “cool” month, of course,….because there are some really dog days in September,…but it marks the start of the decay.

The tomatoes go into their final stages. The jubilant red offers forth which remains as a reminder of the lack of life-giving chlorophyll. The allegorical chlorophyllical spigot is finally shut off and it’s like hitting the top of a veritable, volatile vegetable roller-coaster hill.

A ripe red tomato denotes the genesis of decay.

A ripe, red tomato is the advent of a new night that is ushered forth in the dawn of a new autumn as it advances to the final stages of it’s existence. That being, of putrid rankness.

I can’t seem to wait for it.

Not for the tomato factor I just explained.

Mostly for the quietness of winter. A winter prelude in the midst of Autumn. 50 degrees, overcast with leaves that have turned from green to to red. A cool wind blows from the Northwest. The hallmark of death and decay.

It’s about that time that I have ceased the various painting projects around my house, the hose gets put away, the lawnmower gets used less frequently. The grill is cleaned and covered as the season pulls the blanket over it’s head and rests in the quiet coolness of a windy Autumn night.

The sun’s floral brilliance is replaced by the flowers of burnt umber as beach blanket bingo is put away for the Friday night lights.

Why does this mean anything? Why does the change of seasons indicate the status of my inner being?

Do I have any answers to these questions?

I do not.

My inner being, as a breathing organism on this planet, dictated by it’s contentment through it’s meaningless surroundings, is controlled by the repeated dawning of these seemingly unending walks through the seasons of life.

Yeah. I’ll be the first to admit it. I hate summer.

I find that there is nothing better than curling up under a heating blanket on a fine autumn day, surrounded by a bevy of pillows, with a lazy dog at my feet.

There is nothing better than a pot of chili on a Sunday afternoon, with nightfall occurring shortly after 5:30pm, while wearing my ripped jeans and a hooded sweatshirt or a red argyle sweater.

Think about it.

All the famous serial murders happened in the summer. That means summer isn’t as good for the psyche as was previously thought….or what people tend to try and convince themselves of, in spite of clinical studies.

Zodiac,…summer. Jack The Ripper,…summer. Son Of Sam,…summer. Manson,…summer.

Why do I know this?

I dunno,…maybe I’m a psycho or somethin’,…or I spend a lot of time reading in the winter.

I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole winter wasn’t a government plot. That this winter wasn’t manipulated by the United States Government,…so as to get everyone on board with hating Edward Snowden.

“Snowden,….Snowed in,….Snowden,….Snowed in”.

That son of a bitch!!!




Yeah. Right.

Didn’t work for me,…


“A bottle of red, a bottle of white,
Whatever kind of mood you’re in tonight,
I’ll meet you anytime you want,
In our Italian Restaurant….”

Billy Joel
Scenes From An Italian Restaurant

The Godfather

It’s gotta be one of the greatest movies of all time. The reason isn’t because of the family or even the story. The reason is simply because of the food.

Let me explain.

There were two things the Corleone family knew how to do really well. One was to whack people and the other was to eat. There was just something sublime about the meals they sat down in front of,…which was sometimes followed by someone getting a bullet through his forehead.

Be that as it may, there is a subtle nuance between the characters and the food portrayed in that cinematic masterpiece. It’s almost as if there’s sub-liminal messaging going on throughout. Kinda like the old commercials where they would stick the McDonald’s arches into a frame for an igna-second.

(I think the Department of Homeland Security might have clamped down on that, though….you know,…so as to get their own messages in there or somethin’….)

I don’t know about anyone else, but I always get famished while watching that movie. It seemed that they were eating throughout the whole two and a half hours. Plus, the stuff they ate was second to none.

Spaghetti never looked so good than when it was being passed across the table by Abe Vigoda. Abe just had that way of making spaghetti look real good, didn’t he?

It’s just noodles and sauce, but you add that standard motel water glass of wine with it, it takes on a whole new dimension, doesn’t it? A whole new culinary world opens up at that point.

(A small, motel water glass seemed to be the main vehicle for wine in that flick. Don’t ask me why. I would think that a proper wine glass would be the way to go,…but, then, I’m not Italian either. Maybe that’s the way they drink it in Italy or something. I should really investigate that….)

I’m not a big fan of Cannoli. I just get that sweet-tooth immediately when Clemenza says, “Leave the gun, take the Cannoli”. I’m not so sure the appeal of it is because Paulie’s brains were all over the windshield at that point. I think it could be because of that great overcoat that Clemenza was wearing. Something changes when a nice fedora and an overcoat are introduced with Cannoli. It was probably cashmere. Cashmere and that little box tied with string just really went well together.


It’s vexing, to say the least.

And then there’s the veal. Michael is about to whack Sollazzo and McCluskey when McCluskey turns to him and says,

“Try the veal. It’s the best in the city.”

I always really, really feel like a piece of veal at that point.

I think that might be because of the sterile white tablecloth that adorns the table. That plus the bottle of wine that the waiter takes way too long to open. That might be why I get instantly hungry for veal. Or maybe it was the absolute desolation in that restaurant or something. I don’t know.


I don’t normally have a hankerin’ for veal when I watch “Goodfellas”. I don’t normally have a hankerin’ for veal at any other time in my life,….except when I watch that scene.

And it always happens, man. Always.

Hell, even the Chinese take-out and beer they were dining on in the previous scene looked pretty good. I mean, Chinese take-out and beer should only be consumed in a wife-beater with suspenders,…as was so aptly demonstrated by James Caan. If I could get away with it in the year 2014, I would most assuredly go to any dinner table dressed like that.


You just can’t do that in these times. Times have changed. Someone would have a serious objection about that. But there’s just something strangely appealing about eating Chinese while wearin’ a wife-beater and suspenders.

(Btw,…it’s not politically correct to use the term, “wife-beater”, when referencing a white tank-top undershirt, is it? I don’t know….maybe I over-stepped my bounds on that one…apologies if I did.)

I dunno.

I guess the clincher scene in when Clemenza is making that pot of kick-ass sauce. That scene kills me every single time….


“You start out with a little bit of oil. Then you fry some garlic. Then you throw in some tomatoes, tomato paste, you fry it; you make sure it doesn’t stick. You get it to a boil; you shove in all your sausage and your meatballs. And a little bit of wine, and a little bit of sugar—that’s my trick.”

I don’t follow his recipe at all. I’m sure that’s sound advice but, not being Italian, I’m a little leery about putting that much sugar and raw meat into a pot of spaghetti sauce. I did know a guy once who was Italian. He put raw meat into his sauce,…and I ate it and it was very good. I just think that somethin’ would go horribly wrong considering that I am mostly Irish. I don’t think an Irish guy like me could really pull off the whole raw meat in a pot of tomato sauce and have someone not get really, really sick.

Therefore, I will cook the meatballs and sausage prior to shoving it in,….and I will negate the tomato paste due to the fact that my base is called, “Prego”.

Other than that, we pretty much have the same sauce.

Yeah. This is what happened the last time I watched the Godfather:


I got the veal. It was the best in the city.


“I just can’t find the answers
To the questions that keep going through my mind…”

The Baby’s
Isn’t It Time

Here are the top ten things I learned this week:

10. A biopsy hurts. There are no two ways about it. They hurt.

9. Dogs of the peek variety would just as soon soil themselves than go out in the winter weather. Humans would also just as soon soil themselves than go out in this winter weather. I would just as soon soil myself than go out in this winter weather.

8. I can sleep till 1pm on any given day. Is it the need for sleep or am I just really depressed….or, worse yet, lazy?

7. It’s always handy to keep antacids by the bed. You don’t need them often, but when you do, it is inherently better not to have to look for them.

6. Snow in tire wells becomes more aggravating when you don’t have the time to pound it out. When you do have the time to pound it out, it becomes aggravating when it doesn’t come out.

5.Early morning fatigue comes at inopportune times,…like in a McDonald’s drive-through.

4. Winter now reminds me of the movie, “Fargo”.

3. Tina Fey is a fox

2. I won’t eat a giant shrimp. The ratio between cocktail sauce and shrimp has to be maintained.

1. I can hibernate until summer. i think I can do that.