I am back. Just thought that I would say "hello" as we head off into another weekend. I have a basketball coaching (actually, ass. coaching) gig tomorrow. I find myself to be excited by watching our team, especially the Lad, play. We have some good kids and some "dead" weight, but that is house league.
The Lad really seems to enjoy it and being the tallest is learning how to play "big". He does have to learn to use his size to his advantage in some situations. He needs to recognize when he is being covered by a smaller player to get that player on his back, seal him off, and use the clean lane to the basket he created. That will come.
He is the teams rebounding champ and does score his share of baskets, which is always nice, for him and the team. They are 2-3, which I blame on the coaching. Actually, the juggling of the lines is a challenge when we have 11 players show up, like last week. That means a game of double shifting players off. Eventually, we run out of lesser players to double off and have to start doubling off the better players, which includes the Lad.
I am really pleased he is enjoying playing at a more competitive level, like he does with baseball. The next step may be stepping up the committment to a Select level team in both sports. In fact, he chose his overnight camp on the basis of the fact that they have baseball and basketball teams so that he can try out and play. I hope that he makes both of the teams.
Well, enough about the Lad. Go have yourselves a great weekend! Ciao!
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
A gross Turkey Day post
I am back. I am glad that the title got your attention. It will be gross, I promise. First things first, though. A very happy Thanksgiving to all of my American friends and those who I am not friends with, except for that dude in Pensacola (he knows who he is), he can continue to go fuck himself. Fucking asshole!
Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let me begin with the unpleasantness. Believe me, I toyed with writing about this as I think it is truly sick, but it is true and real. Remember, reality is sometimes a sick, dirty and gross thing. It is kind of like child birth. I am telling you, that it is pretty gross (unless you are one of those "earthy, hippie-types" who does not believe in bathing and enjoy basting in your own "natural" juices--I do not roll that way).
The Wife likes beets. I am kind of on the fence with them (along with Brussels sprouts). She makes them well, in that she roasts them, which enhances their sweetness (and their earthiness, there is that "earthy" word again, as well). She made beets on Tuesday evening before I played basketball. If you know anything about beets, it is that they are stains waiting to happen.
The Lad eats a beet and his tongue is a bright red. I can only assume it was the beets and not like that before, but I am not sure. After playing basketball, I come home and take a shower. I take a piss, really I left it since I was not taking it anywhere, and it has a reddish tint to it. Odd, but not that odd.
The next morning, I go for my daily (or twice daily or more) dump. I have to tell you that I do not know from constipation. I am beyond regular. Apparently, the Lad and my two youngest nephews take after me. My brother may as well, too, but this is one of those things I do not discuss. I just write this shit, ooops, perhaps not the best choice of words (or maybe it was). Anyway, I do my business and look in the bowl. The water, in the midst of the mess, is all red!
What the fuck!??? Has my colon exploded? I would hope if that were the case, I would feel something amiss in my gut (or butt). Nothing. Then, I recall the beets from about 12 hours earlier. So obviously the beet pigment, that red, just passes right through me (I can only surmise that it would do the same with all of you out there in the ethers). Damn.
The last time I recall something like that was back in the mid-90s. Two things, a cereal called Kaboom (it was General Mills cereal in the same vein as Count Chocula, Franken Berry and Boo Berry, never a fan of the simulated fruit flavors, though I do LOVE Count Chocula--his cereal is pretty good, too) and some drink with skeletons and bizarre ingredients did a similar turn to me. The Kaboom, like the good count, had the same cereal pellets, for lack of a better word, and dessicated mini-marshmallows. Instead of being brown (Count Chocula), pink (Franken Berry) or light blue (Boo Berry), Kaboom was blue with yellow and green flecks. I would eat it and my dumps would be decidedly blue.
The drink, Skeleteens, was purchased on the basis of the bottle (skeletons) and my love for all things "bones", so I chose the blue one. My piss was blue, too, afterwards. The shot of ginseng in it was what got me. It was like an "energy" drink, like Red Bull, before the category exploded (thank you Starbucks for the hyper-caffeinated society we have became and the Crash it has inevitably caused, that my dear friends is a story for another day).
Anyway, enough of the scatological post. I did tell you it was a gross Turkey Day post, though. Enjoy your meal, now, but for fuck's sake, wash your hands first. I mean, go now, wash those hands!
Ciao!
Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let me begin with the unpleasantness. Believe me, I toyed with writing about this as I think it is truly sick, but it is true and real. Remember, reality is sometimes a sick, dirty and gross thing. It is kind of like child birth. I am telling you, that it is pretty gross (unless you are one of those "earthy, hippie-types" who does not believe in bathing and enjoy basting in your own "natural" juices--I do not roll that way).
The Wife likes beets. I am kind of on the fence with them (along with Brussels sprouts). She makes them well, in that she roasts them, which enhances their sweetness (and their earthiness, there is that "earthy" word again, as well). She made beets on Tuesday evening before I played basketball. If you know anything about beets, it is that they are stains waiting to happen.
The Lad eats a beet and his tongue is a bright red. I can only assume it was the beets and not like that before, but I am not sure. After playing basketball, I come home and take a shower. I take a piss, really I left it since I was not taking it anywhere, and it has a reddish tint to it. Odd, but not that odd.
The next morning, I go for my daily (or twice daily or more) dump. I have to tell you that I do not know from constipation. I am beyond regular. Apparently, the Lad and my two youngest nephews take after me. My brother may as well, too, but this is one of those things I do not discuss. I just write this shit, ooops, perhaps not the best choice of words (or maybe it was). Anyway, I do my business and look in the bowl. The water, in the midst of the mess, is all red!
What the fuck!??? Has my colon exploded? I would hope if that were the case, I would feel something amiss in my gut (or butt). Nothing. Then, I recall the beets from about 12 hours earlier. So obviously the beet pigment, that red, just passes right through me (I can only surmise that it would do the same with all of you out there in the ethers). Damn.
The last time I recall something like that was back in the mid-90s. Two things, a cereal called Kaboom (it was General Mills cereal in the same vein as Count Chocula, Franken Berry and Boo Berry, never a fan of the simulated fruit flavors, though I do LOVE Count Chocula--his cereal is pretty good, too) and some drink with skeletons and bizarre ingredients did a similar turn to me. The Kaboom, like the good count, had the same cereal pellets, for lack of a better word, and dessicated mini-marshmallows. Instead of being brown (Count Chocula), pink (Franken Berry) or light blue (Boo Berry), Kaboom was blue with yellow and green flecks. I would eat it and my dumps would be decidedly blue.
The drink, Skeleteens, was purchased on the basis of the bottle (skeletons) and my love for all things "bones", so I chose the blue one. My piss was blue, too, afterwards. The shot of ginseng in it was what got me. It was like an "energy" drink, like Red Bull, before the category exploded (thank you Starbucks for the hyper-caffeinated society we have became and the Crash it has inevitably caused, that my dear friends is a story for another day).
Anyway, enough of the scatological post. I did tell you it was a gross Turkey Day post, though. Enjoy your meal, now, but for fuck's sake, wash your hands first. I mean, go now, wash those hands!
Ciao!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Happy B-day, bro!
I am back. I will make this a short post. I want to wish my brother a very happy birthday. As I said to him, 28 years ago, you were only 10. There is truth in that for everybody, or everybody born on November 25, 1970.
That is all I have for today. Ciao!
That is all I have for today. Ciao!
Monday, November 24, 2008
The Vatican Forgives--show us how it is done!
I am back. I just read that the Vatican has forgiven John Lennon for his remark in 1966 that the "Beatles were bigger than Jesus". It was a statement designed to show that at that present time the hype the Beatles were receiving was greater than any hype Jesus was getting. (It was hard to beat Jesus' marketing machine, even back in the mid-1960s).
As I see it, it was a pretty innocuous statement. As he tried to explain, "I said the Beatles were bigger than Jesus. I didn't say we were better than Jesus. I was just saying." John Lennon was merely pointing out that the Beatles were a popculture phenomenon at that moment in time. The only thing "bigger" was probably Jesus and the Catholic Church, via the Vatican, were all over that shit.
Well, it is good to know that a good 42 years after the fact, they can forgive. Funny, an organization that PREACHES the teachings of Jesus, such as "turn the other cheek", took 42 years to forgive a statement that was factually true and really had its value misascribed.
Of course, this official act of forgiveness comes a good 28 years after John Lennon's death, so fat lot of fucking good it does him (or would have done him). Maybe, Mark David Chapman was an assassin sent by the Vatican to exact revenge for the statement. Of course, all the little altar boys diddled by priests since 1966 may be considered as revenge for the statement.
That may be some twisted Vatican logic, but they can do it.
On the same topic (the Vatican), I caught some comedian doing his bit the other night. He was funny. He was going to fuck with the Jews, but there was not much there. They are not everywhere trying to convert people or knocking on your door with religious pamphlets. His best line was about the "Pope being a Nazi". It did not concern him as Nazism lasted all of a decade or so, but the Catholic Church has endured for centuries of violence, killing in the name of Jesus and land, and fucking altar boys. "If you told me that the Nazi was a former Pope, then I would be scared."
Well, now that I have offended the Vatican, I guess I could expect my apology in what, 2050 or so, just in time for the nurse to change my diaper, which assumes that I am not pushing up the daisies before that time (rest assured that if I am, I will have taken out at least one or two you beforehand).
I hope it has been a happy Monday. Ciao!
As I see it, it was a pretty innocuous statement. As he tried to explain, "I said the Beatles were bigger than Jesus. I didn't say we were better than Jesus. I was just saying." John Lennon was merely pointing out that the Beatles were a popculture phenomenon at that moment in time. The only thing "bigger" was probably Jesus and the Catholic Church, via the Vatican, were all over that shit.
Well, it is good to know that a good 42 years after the fact, they can forgive. Funny, an organization that PREACHES the teachings of Jesus, such as "turn the other cheek", took 42 years to forgive a statement that was factually true and really had its value misascribed.
Of course, this official act of forgiveness comes a good 28 years after John Lennon's death, so fat lot of fucking good it does him (or would have done him). Maybe, Mark David Chapman was an assassin sent by the Vatican to exact revenge for the statement. Of course, all the little altar boys diddled by priests since 1966 may be considered as revenge for the statement.
That may be some twisted Vatican logic, but they can do it.
On the same topic (the Vatican), I caught some comedian doing his bit the other night. He was funny. He was going to fuck with the Jews, but there was not much there. They are not everywhere trying to convert people or knocking on your door with religious pamphlets. His best line was about the "Pope being a Nazi". It did not concern him as Nazism lasted all of a decade or so, but the Catholic Church has endured for centuries of violence, killing in the name of Jesus and land, and fucking altar boys. "If you told me that the Nazi was a former Pope, then I would be scared."
Well, now that I have offended the Vatican, I guess I could expect my apology in what, 2050 or so, just in time for the nurse to change my diaper, which assumes that I am not pushing up the daisies before that time (rest assured that if I am, I will have taken out at least one or two you beforehand).
I hope it has been a happy Monday. Ciao!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Happy Anniversary to Me, er Us
I am back. I am interrupting this "normal" post to prattle on about something, an event, in my life. Today is the day that my girlfriend became the Wife. Yup, it is my 15th anniversary today.
I cannot believe 15 fucking years have passed.....and the Blue Jays have not been to the playoffs, let alone won a World Series since.....the Maple Leafs have not won a Stanley Cup (though to be quite honest, they had none won in the 25 years before I got married, but I am just saying)......the Raptors did not exist at that moment in time, so it is business as usual for them.....Kurt Cobain, Diana Princess of Wales, Barry White, Luthor Vandros, Paul Newman, and some other folks have died.
In fact, in that time, we have "lost" my grandmother, my mother-in-law, father-in-law, my aunt and other family and family friends. I know that seems rather careless, and I guess at some level it was, but they have gone on to the great beyond. To temper that there have been many births, our child, The Lad, friends' children and the offspring of my siblings and siblings in law, those are rather positive.
I was looking at our wedding album (I was jealous of how much hair I had and it was not grey) and had to note the number of couples (our friends) who were not together. It was astounding. I think the number of couples who have divorced exceeded the number of couples who have remained together. The most interesting tidbit, is that one of the couples that is still together, had been dating/living together but got married (a surprise wedding as my friend and his girlfriend had their first baby--something that he said he was never going to do, and it was their baby naming ceremony/party) in 2007.
That is all that want to say other than this goes out to the Wife..Happy 15th Anniversary and here is to another 15 (I figure I can mentally manage a series of 15 years).
Ciao!
I cannot believe 15 fucking years have passed.....and the Blue Jays have not been to the playoffs, let alone won a World Series since.....the Maple Leafs have not won a Stanley Cup (though to be quite honest, they had none won in the 25 years before I got married, but I am just saying)......the Raptors did not exist at that moment in time, so it is business as usual for them.....Kurt Cobain, Diana Princess of Wales, Barry White, Luthor Vandros, Paul Newman, and some other folks have died.
In fact, in that time, we have "lost" my grandmother, my mother-in-law, father-in-law, my aunt and other family and family friends. I know that seems rather careless, and I guess at some level it was, but they have gone on to the great beyond. To temper that there have been many births, our child, The Lad, friends' children and the offspring of my siblings and siblings in law, those are rather positive.
I was looking at our wedding album (I was jealous of how much hair I had and it was not grey) and had to note the number of couples (our friends) who were not together. It was astounding. I think the number of couples who have divorced exceeded the number of couples who have remained together. The most interesting tidbit, is that one of the couples that is still together, had been dating/living together but got married (a surprise wedding as my friend and his girlfriend had their first baby--something that he said he was never going to do, and it was their baby naming ceremony/party) in 2007.
That is all that want to say other than this goes out to the Wife..Happy 15th Anniversary and here is to another 15 (I figure I can mentally manage a series of 15 years).
Ciao!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Nebraska--corn and abandoned children, that is a combo
I am back. It is good to be back, too. It is just good to be.....It does beat the alternative, not being. My hair is feeling kind of funny today. I cannot figure that one out.
I was reading about a Nebraska law that allows parents to "abandon" their children at a state hospital without prosecution. The intent of the law is good, to prevent abuse of children by parents unable or unwilling to care for them. Unfortunately, the law of unintended consequences has kicked. Parents are dumping their kids at these hospitals at unprecedented rates. Children as old as 17 or 18. One woman took her 18 year old and dumped her because she could not handle her "behavioral" issues.
The worst of it is that a 34 year old dude dropped off 9 of his 10 children. He was raising them on his own after his wife died of a brain hemorrhage. Well, after shooting out 10 babies, it was either her brain exploding/hemorrhaging or her pussy just falling out, too. In fact, I would think you could have parked the Buick in her cunt after baby number 6. My question is, and realize I can empathize with this man's situation, I mean that has to be tough, but what the fuck are you doing having 10 children?!!! Where is the level of personal responsibility?
Is this some religious thing, not using birth control? I have no problem with this dude and his dead wife (before she was dead) getting "their freak on" AND use some birth control (put a rubber band around your dick, I do not care). You figured the good Lord told you to have all these children, is it the good Lord's duty to raise them, too? What the fuck is wrong in this world?!!!!!
I just do not get it. Am I so out of touch? What color is the fucking sky on their home planet because it cannot be blue.
Well, I have to run. The Lad and I are going on a Nebraska road trip before the offer gets pulled.
Ciao!
I was reading about a Nebraska law that allows parents to "abandon" their children at a state hospital without prosecution. The intent of the law is good, to prevent abuse of children by parents unable or unwilling to care for them. Unfortunately, the law of unintended consequences has kicked. Parents are dumping their kids at these hospitals at unprecedented rates. Children as old as 17 or 18. One woman took her 18 year old and dumped her because she could not handle her "behavioral" issues.
The worst of it is that a 34 year old dude dropped off 9 of his 10 children. He was raising them on his own after his wife died of a brain hemorrhage. Well, after shooting out 10 babies, it was either her brain exploding/hemorrhaging or her pussy just falling out, too. In fact, I would think you could have parked the Buick in her cunt after baby number 6. My question is, and realize I can empathize with this man's situation, I mean that has to be tough, but what the fuck are you doing having 10 children?!!! Where is the level of personal responsibility?
Is this some religious thing, not using birth control? I have no problem with this dude and his dead wife (before she was dead) getting "their freak on" AND use some birth control (put a rubber band around your dick, I do not care). You figured the good Lord told you to have all these children, is it the good Lord's duty to raise them, too? What the fuck is wrong in this world?!!!!!
I just do not get it. Am I so out of touch? What color is the fucking sky on their home planet because it cannot be blue.
Well, I have to run. The Lad and I are going on a Nebraska road trip before the offer gets pulled.
Ciao!
Monday, November 17, 2008
A stroll down memory lane
I am back. It was a wonderous weekend. There was the cold rain on Saturday and the even colder, but sunnier, Sunday. It must be November. US Thanksgiving is upon us, as is my brother's birthday and my anniversary (my mother's birthday passed)(why did you all not chip in and get her a gift? I know she was disappointed, though I am not to sure who "appointed" her.).
While I am here, I must mark something "important" in my life. Well, as the years pass, it does lose that sense of importance, even still. Tomorrow, November 18th, is the 30th anniversay of me getting my hair permed.
Stop the laughter. I was in grade 9. Now, when I had my full head of hair, it was pencil straight and fine in texture (my father's was baby fine, you could have run those lice combs through our hair, preferably free of lice nits, and there would be no pulling or tugging or screaming. I did not need that "No More Tangles" shit as my hair just did not tangle.
Anyway, everytime I got my haircut (it was like a bowl cut or Prince Valiant cut, how attractive, with the cheesy 14 year old moustache (I was 14, the moustache was not that old) and braces) the dude kept mentioning a perm or body perm. I finally relented and November 18, 1978, was the day. I got home and did not recognize myself. I tried to wash my hair a number of times to get rid of the smell of the perm solution. It smelled like I was farting....after I had eaten rotting mice.
Anyway, that night, it was a Saturday, I went to my buddy's house, on the way to another friend's house. I get to Neil's and he falls on the floor laughing. We get to the other Neil's and he does a double take. I am immediately taken downstairs to show his brother, 3 years older and with a perm himself. We compare notes and tug at each other's hair. This was the night when Carrie Fisher hosted SNL and the Blues Brothers were the musical guests, by the way (how is that for a freakish memory).
It was earlier that day, as I was walking home from the bus stop, that my mother drove right by me. Either she did not recognize me or she was completely stunned out. The jury is still out on that one as to which is the true answer.
I get to school on the Monday, and my teachers do not recognize me. It is freaking them out. It was a point of conversation that when my brother got to grade 7 and had the same gym teacher that I had (which was a good 4 years later--1982), he was asked if he was going to get a perm like his brother. The funniest part is that a good friend of mine, with very curly hair, had that very weekend, began fluffing his hair. So you had two skinny, white dudes with afros or the white kid equivalents. We looked like two used Q-Tips (both of us had brown hair, now he has less than I as he shaves his head, but even still I "out hair" him).
To this day, I still wonder about why I did it. We would have our school photos done soon after, so there I was with curly hair, braces and cheesy moustache for all the world to see. The best part is there are small copies of that year's school pictures that my grandmother had in a small, lucite frame. When she died, my mother put frame in her front hall.
Now, the Lad and his cousins, get to see me in all my former glory. The best part is that they all cannot believe that it was my real hair. It is made harder for them to grasp since my mother has an afro wig, so they think that I was wearing that. They cannot think back 30 years. Dumb kids. Or was I the dumb kid?
Enough about me...ciao!
While I am here, I must mark something "important" in my life. Well, as the years pass, it does lose that sense of importance, even still. Tomorrow, November 18th, is the 30th anniversay of me getting my hair permed.
Stop the laughter. I was in grade 9. Now, when I had my full head of hair, it was pencil straight and fine in texture (my father's was baby fine, you could have run those lice combs through our hair, preferably free of lice nits, and there would be no pulling or tugging or screaming. I did not need that "No More Tangles" shit as my hair just did not tangle.
Anyway, everytime I got my haircut (it was like a bowl cut or Prince Valiant cut, how attractive, with the cheesy 14 year old moustache (I was 14, the moustache was not that old) and braces) the dude kept mentioning a perm or body perm. I finally relented and November 18, 1978, was the day. I got home and did not recognize myself. I tried to wash my hair a number of times to get rid of the smell of the perm solution. It smelled like I was farting....after I had eaten rotting mice.
Anyway, that night, it was a Saturday, I went to my buddy's house, on the way to another friend's house. I get to Neil's and he falls on the floor laughing. We get to the other Neil's and he does a double take. I am immediately taken downstairs to show his brother, 3 years older and with a perm himself. We compare notes and tug at each other's hair. This was the night when Carrie Fisher hosted SNL and the Blues Brothers were the musical guests, by the way (how is that for a freakish memory).
It was earlier that day, as I was walking home from the bus stop, that my mother drove right by me. Either she did not recognize me or she was completely stunned out. The jury is still out on that one as to which is the true answer.
I get to school on the Monday, and my teachers do not recognize me. It is freaking them out. It was a point of conversation that when my brother got to grade 7 and had the same gym teacher that I had (which was a good 4 years later--1982), he was asked if he was going to get a perm like his brother. The funniest part is that a good friend of mine, with very curly hair, had that very weekend, began fluffing his hair. So you had two skinny, white dudes with afros or the white kid equivalents. We looked like two used Q-Tips (both of us had brown hair, now he has less than I as he shaves his head, but even still I "out hair" him).
To this day, I still wonder about why I did it. We would have our school photos done soon after, so there I was with curly hair, braces and cheesy moustache for all the world to see. The best part is there are small copies of that year's school pictures that my grandmother had in a small, lucite frame. When she died, my mother put frame in her front hall.
Now, the Lad and his cousins, get to see me in all my former glory. The best part is that they all cannot believe that it was my real hair. It is made harder for them to grasp since my mother has an afro wig, so they think that I was wearing that. They cannot think back 30 years. Dumb kids. Or was I the dumb kid?
Enough about me...ciao!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Aren;t you sorry you showed up this time?
I am back. See, two days in a row with a post, I must truly be back. It is hard to say.
I have a coaching gig tomorrow. The Lad is playing. He is a good player, doing the little things. He sets picks, without knowing he is doing it, plays defence and rebounds. It is even better when he scores. He is a good player and can only get better.
I am going to chill this weekend. Have some fun y'all. Ciao!
Man, this was short and useless, but I have spent the day putting together some furniture for my brother in law, so that may, or may not, explain things.
I have a coaching gig tomorrow. The Lad is playing. He is a good player, doing the little things. He sets picks, without knowing he is doing it, plays defence and rebounds. It is even better when he scores. He is a good player and can only get better.
I am going to chill this weekend. Have some fun y'all. Ciao!
Man, this was short and useless, but I have spent the day putting together some furniture for my brother in law, so that may, or may not, explain things.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
I am back
I am back. Forgive me people for I have not posted in over 2 weeks. It was a vacation of sorts. I did not have it in me to write nor did I feel like I had the time. That, my friends, is a dangerous combination--lack of desire and time. I believe that both are back now.
I do have to go on about the old Nazi, er Austrian, dude who kept his daughter as a sex slave in the basement and fathered her 7 children. I did write about him when he was arrested. He started doing his daughter in 1984, when she was 18. At least, he was not a pedophile (I am not sure that he will be getting a better seat in hell with that one, but you never know).
Anyway, he has been charged with murder in the death of his son. This is a son, his daughter bore, who died as an infant in 1996. Now, and here is where I need to map it all out on a whiteboard, is he being charged as the father for "killing" his son, or did he do it in the capacity of being the boy's grandfather. I am so fucking confused and it will not bring little baby Fritz back to life, but I just have to know.
The whole thing actually turns my stomach, yet I can see humor, because it was not me.
That is all for today, a little lighthearted thought on a very sick situation. Ciao!
I do have to go on about the old Nazi, er Austrian, dude who kept his daughter as a sex slave in the basement and fathered her 7 children. I did write about him when he was arrested. He started doing his daughter in 1984, when she was 18. At least, he was not a pedophile (I am not sure that he will be getting a better seat in hell with that one, but you never know).
Anyway, he has been charged with murder in the death of his son. This is a son, his daughter bore, who died as an infant in 1996. Now, and here is where I need to map it all out on a whiteboard, is he being charged as the father for "killing" his son, or did he do it in the capacity of being the boy's grandfather. I am so fucking confused and it will not bring little baby Fritz back to life, but I just have to know.
The whole thing actually turns my stomach, yet I can see humor, because it was not me.
That is all for today, a little lighthearted thought on a very sick situation. Ciao!
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