Revealing veal

I am back. The weekend is upon us, for what that is worth. I came across a funny word. REVEAL. It is funny. I do not recall "vealing" the first time, so how it is a "reveal"? How do you "veal"?

I did have a great veal sandwich, er sangwitch, on Saturday. A hot, Italian veal on a bun with mushrooms and cheese. Well, I had ordered onions instead of cheese, but somehow got cheese. I did not know that until I bit into it at home. At that point, I said "Fuck it! I am not going to drive in the snow to exchange my sandwich. I can eat cheese instead of onions, no biggie." Did I mention it was a great sangwitch?

The Lad had the meatball sandwich. He seems to prefer those. I am not sure why. He has had the steak sandwich (as I have I) with mushrooms and he liked it. He has the chicken sandwich, which is like the veal only with a chicken cutlet (I felt that I had to explain the obvious). I am not sure why he does not seem to want to try the veal.

It cannot be a veal issue. I have seen him order and eat veal parmagiana. He enjoys that, so it cannot be a "veal" issue. Oh well, he does not know what he is missing.

The Wife, however, does not eat veal. When I ask "why", I just do not get an answer, or at least a coherent one. The Wife had the eggplant sandwich. She likes that one with mushrooms and peppers. Now, I can recall her eating the chicken and the meatball sandwiches.

I need to get to the bottom of her aversion to veal (and chicken, turkey, duck, pork, lamb, goat, venison, and beef that has not been cooked to death. It has to stem from how MIL cooked. She made a lot of ground veal dishes and veal stews. Those overcooked and flavourless, poor textured dishes would do it for me. Her veal stew was okay in texture, it did lack for flavor, and vegetables, though.

Well, it is time for me to go play detective. Just call me "Inspector Fuzz". Figure it out, damn pre-juvenile joke. Have a wooly weekend! Ciao!

Mardi Gras

I am back. I started working on that post I mentioned yesterday. I will continue it and possibly get it up (funny choice of words there) tomorrow or Thursday. I did want to remind y'all that today is Fat Tuesday, Pancake Tuesday or Mardi Gras.

We are missing fun parades and all out debauchery in N'awlins right now. At least, I am missing it. I am not one for parades. I am, however, a great enjoyer of debauchery. That is both as participant and voyeur.

No, there is nothing like some good, old fashioned debauchery to get the blood moving. Hell, some good old debauchery gets all the bodily fluids moving, that is generally a good thing (then again, it may depend upon the bodily fluid in question, I dig that).

I would love to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. All the food, trading beads for a flash of some lovely's tits, the risk of being mugged and killed. It is all good and so Louisiana. A little crawfish gumbo and a stabbing, all with a cry of "show us your tits" thrown in for good measure. You cannot be New Orleans during Mardi Gras.

I recall being down in Florida over reading week in 1988. It must have been a later Mardi Gras (which means a later in April Good Friday). MTV was a buzz about the whole thing. This leads me to the next thought and bad music.

Do you remember Vanity of Vanity 6 (Nasty Girl), she was a Prince protegee. She would leave the band (similar to the Mary Jane Girls--3 hot chicks, in an 1980s way with big hair and a ton of makeup) and Apollonia was put in her slot (pardon the pun) and got into Purple Rain with Prince. Anyway, she had a song, written by Prince, that was crap but very explicit. "Pretty Mess"-such a pretty mess, ooooh, he made such a pretty mess on my dress.

Now, I am not sure if he just shot on her dress or how long it took him to unload and what she did to bring it on. The only question I really have as I think about it and put it all into a different context is this.....was Monica Lewinsky singing this song when she decided to keep her dress, without cleaning it, that had Bill Clinton's cumstain on it?

I had forgotten about that song but I was reminded of it the other night. That is the first thought that came to my mind when I heard it again. What does that say about pop culture or more importantly, what does it say about me?

Ciao! Enjoy, is that possible or the point, your lent if that is your bent. I do not like to pay retail and I will certainly not do it in my religion. No, 40 days for us, it is one and done (fast for a day and be absolved). That is how we roll! Ciao!

Porno Lies

I am back. I thought of something yesterday and it all made me laugh. Let us call this "Porno Lies".



I do not have trouble with pornography and judging by what I have seen on that there Internet, many, many, many others do not as well. I am looking back on my past with both porno and reality and I was struck by some of the "lies" in porno. Keep in mind, it is not necessarily a "lie" per se as those who provide it will tell you that it is merely "fantasy". So here goes nothing.



The lie that all women have bisexual tendencies.--I have yet to meet a woman, let alone bed one, that has come out and said that they want or would be turned on by another woman in the bedroom (car backseat/living room floor, choose any location you would like) with me/us. Now, I realize that it could be some "knee-jerk" revulsion they have had or that they "protest too much" to hide those tendencies.



Now, I have known some guys to have had girls that swung that way. I just have not had the pleasure or complications of that. Maybe it has been my choices. I have had women who did not want to kiss me after I had spent countless minutes going down on them (this even after I was spitting out pubic hair, presumably hers). Then again, I have been with feminitas who would lick their juices off of my lips (damn sensual), so who knows. I could be wrong about that one.

The Money Shot/Facial--I have yet to meet a woman who will openly admit to liking a guy shoot his load in her (on her?) face. Again, that may be a way of not appearing to be "slutty" and that may change when she is alone with her dude, I do not know. Maybe I just have not met such a "cum slut". I am not saying they do not exist and I am not passing judgement here. If you are a lady and enjoy taking a load to the face, once in a while or all the time, because you enjoy feeling "nasty", I am cool with that.

That "nasty" feeling could be one of those things that makes anal sex so alluring. If you want to think about it, it is a pretty "nasty" act. Sticking your dick in the shitter. Potentially sticking your dick in shit. That is "nasty", yet very exciting.

Those were my two major lies. I could go into seemingly non-lubed anal (a very bad idea, especially if it is your butt being violated) as another lie, but that is really editing. Who the hell wants to see the lubing up before the shot? It just does not flow as well, but is necessary, really necessary.

There you have it. Ciao!

Just stopping by

I am back. Not much to speak of this weekend, in fact, I do not really remember it at all. Saddest part is that I was NOT on a bender. I did do some chores, post-painting touch ups and reattaching the new towel bar and toilet paper holder in the bathroom. Played some Rock Band 2, too. I suck as a drummer and so does my singing (though I do know the words and the tune) but I can grove well on the bass.

I just thought that I would check in. Oh yeah, it was 5 years ago today that I resigned from George S May. It was after a long afternoon spent at Chicago's O'Hare Airport and having Air Canada lose my luggage as I arrived home, after being away for 6 nights. I was sick, lost about 10 pounds and had my suits and shirts hang off me like Tom Hanks in "Big" when he turns back into a 12 year old Josh Basner. It was quite the scene.

Well, I think that I may have a treat for you tomorrow. I have an idea that I have been percolating in my brain. It is making me laugh as I type, but I can further flesh it out for tomorrow.

Come back then, ciao!

An inspirational thought

I am back. I have shit written down but not handy. It is all gold, I tell ya, GOLD!

I think I used up all the "gold", so you get this stuff.

Another weekend is upon us. It really does not mean much to me and that is sad. It all blends together. I have to make each day count instead of counting the days.

There to inspire you "Make each day count instead of counting the days."

Enjoy the weekend! Ciao!

The theme today is Gilligan's Island

I am back. I am not sure into what recess of my mind that I crawled but I had a few Gilligan's Island thoughts today.

I got to thinking about the Professor. What if he was a professor with his PhD in sociology. I am pretty sure his knowledge of Durkheim's theory of anomie would be useless on the island. If he could provide no physical labor (or impregnate the women folk, including Lovie Howell) then I am thinking that they, the castaways, would be justified in killing and eating him.

Which leads me to a more pleasant thought, can you imagine Mary Ann and Ginger getting it on. I know that I can. That would be hot. Of course, being the 60s, you are looking (at least I would like to be looking, fuck that, joining in) with Mary Ann's dark bush and Ginger's red bush. This, of course, assumes that Ginger's "cuffs" matched her "collar", which I have never confirmed. Of course, I am guessing that now Tina Louise's pubes, what is still there, are grey, which kind of creeps me out.

In the what is good for the goose is good for the gander file, one can only imagine Gilligan and the Skipper getting it on. "Little buddy" is really a euphemism for little butt buddy. I just do not want to go there, but I had to. It would not be me otherwise.

I am thinking of the Gilligan's Island orgy. Just thinking about Lovie Howell (was her bush grey?) getting reamed by all the men of the island kind of cracks me up. Ginger sitting on Thurston Howell's face, can you not see that?

Somehow I have perverted the wholesomeness of Gilligan's Island and to think that it all started with the notion of the professor being a sociology professor and being completely useless on the island.

Gotta run. Ciao!

Family Day Funnies?

I am back. Well, up here around these parts we have statutory holiday called "Family Day". In the US, it is President's Day (presumably to celebrate the birthdays of Washington and Lincoln, which were both in February.

I am certainly all for a holiday in the middle of February. It is almost needed. April may be cruellest month but February is far worse. At least with April the weather is turning. Things, mainly the greenery, is getting ready to bloom. Spring is in the air and all that.

None of that shit in February. We get cold, sun, rain, snow, more snow and more cold. The only advantage to February is that you notice the days getting longer. There is way more sunshine, so that is a positive. February was also a time for a break from University for that very reason. You need some time to recharge when things look the bleakest.

Winter begins in December. As damp as November can be, it is rarely bleak. November's bleak is new, so it differs from early autumn. December has the holidays, so the lights and shit seem to fool you into seeing how fucking dark it seems to be constantly. You notice that in January and then have to suck it up through February and into March before you can really hope for a break.

That is why February has the fewest days. This we get through it quicker.

Now, the name "Family Day"? What kind of mamby-pamby shit is that. I hate that name and am not crazy about the idea. I love my family and all. Given that the Lad had a PD on Friday and I have seen the "family" all weekend, I need some time away from family. It should be "Get Away from Family Day", which does sound rather inelegant.

I think the idea is correct (though, I am not speaking to the "cost" of this holiday, another holiday, on small business and productivity, but sometimes a break refreshes and leads to performance) the name just sucks Donkey Ass!

Well, I hope you enjoy(ed) your Family Day or President's Day or Sheriff Lumbunkens Day or whatever day (Monday) you celebrated. Hell, just celebrate the day as every day is a special day. I have enjoyed mine. Ciao!

Lincoln vs Darwin

I am back. Out with the Jolly Laddies last night. Good time had.

I did not get around to posting yesterday. It was the 200th birthday of both Abraham Lincoln and Charles Darwin. Yes, both of those extraordinary gentlemen were born on February 12, 1809. They did leave an awesome legacy. History has treated them both pretty well.

It would seem that there is a parallel there. Then again, only one of them died from a bullet to the brain. Of course, only one made it into "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure". That is some great difference.

That is about all for that thought. I just found it interesting, not sure why now. Anyway, how many cherry nibs count as a serving of fruit? Just curious to know if I have been living healthy.

Have a great weekend, y'all! Ciao!

Similar weather 25 years later! WOW!

I am back. I wanted to post yesterday as it was more date pertinent, but I didn't so deal with that!

Given the date, February, and the mild temperatures, rain and fog around here, I was reminded of this time in 1984. Twenty five fucking years ago! It was Reading Week, a break from school, and a bunch of frat brothers and myself took off a day early (February 10th) to road trip down to our chapter at the University of Illinois in beautiful Champagne-Urbana. Somehow, I ended up driving my father's huge 1982 Pontiac Grand Prix.

I was driving 4 other brothers and there was plenty of room, especially for me in the front seat. It was a position that I would never relinquish. In my car was the always fun JLC and a certain brother with stinky feet and a lisp. We never did see him shower, not that we were looking, but it made us wonder what was up with that. It was at that moment we seemed to think (it was a group effort) that he had no dick. Well, we actually surmised that he had his dick blown off in Vietnam and he was left with a "dick stump". That would explain his reluctance to shower and the stinky feet.

Anyway, I drove the first leg (picking up everybody) to our first stop at a McDonald's in Woodstock (where JLC lost/left his sunglasses). Somebody else got us to the border, with me up front along with the case of beer. I did drive the last leg, south through Illinois, in the dark and a bit of fog. We got there at night and it was a pre-rush weekend event (they were hosting a bunch of guys who were going to be going to Illinois in September) so we just hung in some dude's room, smoking weed, drinking beer and eating pizza (sounds like a dream evening to me still).

Anyway, the point of the story, without getting into how trashed I became or the fact that it was a blur, is that I had agreed (half-heartedly) that if I were to stop driving (home), I would sit in the back. Fuck that shit! I will continue to drive and do the whole 10 or so hours on my own OR kill us all trying.

We had decided to watch the Illinois/Iowa basketball game before leaving. Picture 5 wasted Canadians sitting in the stands, that was us. We left and I was not sure how I was going to manage the drive and the fatigue. Coffee is an amazing thing, as I loaded up on that during dinner. We made good time to the border with a fill up in Ann Arbor. It was about midnight that we hit the border. It looked like it would be clear sailing from there. I was so wrong.

About an hour outside of Windsor, we hit thick fog. Suddenly, I am going slow as I cannot see a thing. Now, given how bleak this area is by daylight, I prefer to drive it at night so I can pretend there is something to see. This was the most fatiguing thing for me. The 3 hour drive, driven at a not unreasonable rate of speed, took a good 4 and a half hours. I did not get into my house until just after 5am

Here was the start of our February vacation and it was mild, rainy and foggy, just like the past couple of days around here. Winter roared back later that week and month, so I realize that you have to enjoy this break from the cold and snow while it happens.

How is that for a useless story? Of course, it was not pointles, just useless. Ciao!

blah blah Steriods blah

I am back. As you can tell, I did not post going into the weekend. Anyway, we had a weekend. The Lad had his final basketball game and they won big. It was for naught as we were only playing for pride. One of our rep players actually played big and well, which was sort of shocking. The Lad was a bit of a monster out there, pulling down rebounds, blocking shots and scoring quite a bit, early. He hit an awesome hook shot and fell in love with it, so he was taking it far to often and missing. His defense made me proud, though, as he did not let his man get free.

I also got to thinking of 2004. On this day and date, I was in sunny Winnipeg. Nothing like -25 Celsius temperatures and being told that things have warmed up, to get one to wonder why people live there. I tried not to leave the hotel, but had to for work. I recall coming back to the room on the Monday (or was it the Tuesday), sitting in the armchair with my paper and thinking that I would not leave until the next morning.

Of course, it could have been, but I would not find that out until Wednesday when I went to Portage La Prairie, but that is a story for another day.

So, A-Rod really is a bit of A-Fraud or is that A-Roid. It turns out Alex Rodriguez was using steroids when he won his first MVP award in 2003. I always thought it was a pisser as he really did not deserve to win when the Blue Jays Carlos Delgado had a superior season statistically. The only edge Rodriguez had was in home runs. The fact that A-Roid was on a last place team sealed it for me. To be Most Valuable Player, the team needs some semblance of success. If he was not on that last placed team, where would they have finished? It is not as if there is some sub-basement, so his numbers were not really "valuable" to his team or anybody but his "juiced up" self.

Like most baseball players, he has once again proven he is just a fucking jerk! Funny thing is he has made ultra-jerk, admitted steroid abuser Jose Canseco seem like a saint and credible. Man, how low do you have to go to do something like that?

We live in some fucked up bizarro world is all that I can say. Dogs and cats living together. My brother in law making me look mature. Alex Rodriguez making Jose Canseco seem credible and truthful. Who'da thunk it?

And we villified Ben Johnson around these parts (pre-Usain Bolt)?!!! Poor Dave's Wife's Uncle, he (and I never thought he did) deserved any of that. Charlie Francis was correct, in track and field, you needed the juice to win and EVERYBODY was using and masking. The only difference is that their positive tests were supressed (American money being what it was) so let the Canadian take a fall. No skin off of anybody's ass to sacrifice the Canadian (Jamaican immigrant as he would be dubbed in disgrace).

All of this makes me feel worse for what he endured. He was a pawn. He lived the life when things were good, no doubt about that, but he did not deserve the scorn. Most especially from that two faced shithead, Carl Lewis, who was also juiced, just never "officially" caught.

In the end, we are all dead, so who fucking cares. Let A-Roid's testicles shrivel and fall off, who fucking cares!!!!!!

That is all for now, ciao!

Who needs Lord of the Flies when you can have Lord of the Mosquitoes

I am back. I am guessing that the music is still dead. Oh well. Apparently, Bill Gates let loose a bottle of mosquitoes at a conference he was attending and speaking at. He claims to have done it as a display of how to contact malaria and the joys of mosquitoes.

That is what he is saying. My theory is that he has gone mad and thinks that he is the "Mosquito King" and that through Windows Vista he is able to control all the mosquitoes. A cool trick if it is true, but sort of a slow way to wreak havoc on the world. Call me when you can control something larger that creates a much larger impact in shorter period of time. Just a thought (not much of one, mind you).

Bill Gates does look like a guy who could have played Piggy in "Lord of the Flies". Now, with all his money and purpose, he is Lord of the Mosquitoes. In one fell swoop, he has gone from CEO, guiding mind/spirit at Microsoft to the Lord of Mosquitoes. A man who has mosquitoes do his evil bidding for him. Wow, I am not sure if that is a step up (in a geeky, comic book way) or a step down (actually in reality it is a fall down a few flights of stairs).

I think that is all that I want to say. Ciao!

It was 50 years ago today that the "Music Died"

I am back.

"...February made me shiver with every paper I delivered. Bad news on the door step. I couldn't take one more step. I can't remember if I cried when I read about his widow bride but something touched me deep inside the day the music died." Don McLean-American Pie

Well, it was 50 years ago today that an airplane crashed, during a snow storm, in a corn field near Clear Lake, Iowa. On that plane in 1959 sat a pilot, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper and Buddy Holly. That was a bit of musical tragedy.

Buddy Holly was a prolific singer/song writer whose work has stood the test of time. In his 22 years of life, he spit out numerous songs (sort of an early version of Ryan Adams--a kind of obscure alt/country reference to a dude who put out about 3 albums in a one year span in the 2000s). I would have called him the most prolific of artists and it makes me wonder what he would have done over a longer career and how famous he would have been.

Of course, had he not died 50 years ago, what would Gary Busey have done. Busey's big start was his portrayal, done excellently, of Buddy Holly in "The Buddy Holly Story". Think of that, no dead Buddy Holly, no famous Gary Busey and no appearance on "Celebrity Fit Club" or "Dr. Drew's Celebrity Rehab". Then no real entertainment for the rest of us.

I guess we should all be thankful that Buddy Holly died like he did 50 years ago because we have all been able to enjoy the exploits of Gary Busey and his fellow big toothed son, too. I am not sure how I got there but it does flow.

The Big Bopper had that hit "Chantilly Lace" but that was about it and Richie Valens was only 17 with "Donna" as a big hit. He too had a movie about his life, short though it may have been, with that dude with 3 names whose wife/girlfriend ended up leaving him for Melissa Etheridge (he turned her lesbian--she needed somebody who knew how the work the "equipment" or "terrain"-I like terrain as it gives a sense of the loamy earthiness of the "southern" regions). Lou Philip Diamond was the actor who portrayed Richie Valens in "La Bamba" in 1987.

The death, and manner of death, of Buddy Holly led Don McLean to create his most famous song, "American Pie" a good 12 years after the day the music died. It seems so long ago, and it is, but I can recall hearing that long song on my transistor radio, AM band on CHUM, as a kid (I was certainly younger than the Lad is now, I had to be 8 or 9). I would ride my bike with that radio hanging from my handlebars. There were no Walkmans, Discmans, or iPod/MP3 players back then. I had to deal with crappy AM radio and static...and we liked it!

The curmudgeon is coming out. All these newfangled inventions.....it is like the Wife telling me that the Lad NEEDS a cell phone. I got by just fine without one at his age. Okay, so my parents could not keep tabs on me. I would rarely phone home if I was going to be late (it is always easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission), I did get shit once or twice for it. Usually, my mother was fast asleep and my father a light sleeper would be sort of asleep. He never gave me crap for coming home at any hour of the night or morning.

I think the best was back in 1985. We had just finished our last exam and it was Billfest, where Willie had promised to drink to puking (I look back on that now as rather stupid, but it did not occur in any event). He did not but we ended up back at his place in the hot tub with bottles of beer. Not a good idea as a bottle broke and one of the guys cut his foot. We spent the better part of the early morning in the emergency room. I arrived home at 7 am, brought in the paper and saw my father eating breakfast before he was going to work. He did not hassle me. Of course, I was 20 at the time, but still.

But I digress. This is supposed to be about the Day the Music Died. Of course, that is just the backdrop. I think it is interesting that 50 years have passed and the incident is still remembered. It has endured as it was a spectacular death, kind of like that of Lt. Col. Henry Blake in MASH. A good plane crash death really gets seared into the old memory.

"That'll be the day that I die." Buddy Holly (now Paul McCartney owns the rights to his songs do I have to pay him a royalty? Fuck him, if I do. He can collect from his ex-wife, Heather.

That is all for today. Ciao!

Teaser

I am back. I must be brief. I intend on being back tomorrow with a timely and special post. Doesn't that just make your belly buttons pucker and unpucker in anticipation? Good.

Ciao!