Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Happy Turkey Day with 8AM Beers and Little Dickies

Well we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across the dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving." And we had never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.

Ahhhh… Thanksgiving! That time of year to be with family and friends, to strap on the feed bag and chow down like Augustus Gloop at an all-you-can-eat buffett. A time for pickling the liver and drinking more than Teddy Kennedy at an open bar. Thanksgiving is a time for 8am beers and free tavern breakfasts (can’t beat runny scrambled eggs, burnt toast and uncooked home fries washed down with a cold Budweiser). It is a time for quality high school football at 10am and shitful NFL games the rest of the day (Come on, do we REALLY have to watch the fahkin’ Cowboys and Lions every fahkin year?). Thanksgiving is a time sneaking into the kitchen to steal some turkey skin before dinner is served and for throwing dinner rolls across the room when someone says “Pass the rolls.” It is a time for making excuses for younger brothers who are passed out upstairs because of too many 8am beers and it is a time for doing Prairie Fire shots with friends (First one to take a beer chaser is a pussy!).

But above all, it is a time for the ENTIRE family to be together – and this year we will be doing it right!!!

As long as I can remember, the fourth Thursday of every November has been my favorite day of the year. I think I can trace it back to that first Thanksgiving dinner when I learned that my grandfather, he of the bottle of Black Label and shot of Canadian Club, had more comic talent than Richard Pryor when he WAS on crack. Every year, without fail, Grampy would pick up one of those small boiled onions that my mother would make just for him. He would give the onion a squeeze until the center would protrude out in a way that would look like.. well….use your imagination. Put it this way, to this day, a bowl of boiled onions on our Thanksgiving table is still called a bowl of “little dickies.” Every year, he would perform the same trick that would make his two adolescent grandsons laugh our asses off and cause us to worship him more every year. Yeah, Grampy was one of a kind!

Thanksgiving is also a time for saying prayers over our food. I know it's hard to believe, but for the other 364 days, I stuff my face with reckless abandon with food and drink that has been unblessed by the hands of God - and sometimes that food is really freakin good! Thanksgiving grace in our family is handled by my brother-in-law, Deacon Roland. Yep, that’s right – our family brings in a professional to handle grace – trust me, we need all the experts and direct lines we can get. I will say that Roland has never been able to get through a Thanksgiving grace without someone (ahem… Kimberly and Andrew..) giggling and snorting like someone had just farted in church. Last year, Roland said his Thanksgiving prayers in Floriday with Mickey and Minnie. That left us to our own devices for the pre-meal ritual. Check it out....

Thanksgiving also used to be the day when it became acceptable for radio stations to play Christmas music. But now that that day has been pushed back to November fahkin First, the only remaining musical significance of the holiday is the hourly playing of Alice’s Restaurant on local radio stations. Because there really are no songs about eating turkey with Pilgrims and Indians, we get nineteen minutes of quirky guitar and folksy speech from Arlo Guthrie about war and peace and garbage and call it a Thanksgiving song. Hmmm… whatever

So Happy Thanksgiving to you all – enjoy your 8am beers, your morning football games, your turkey, your little dickies and most of all, your family!! See you on the other side…. This dumb ass might actually do the Black Friday thing… swore I never would… but I’m afraid I might… somebody fahkin’ shoot me please.

That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Set the Wayback Machine Mr. Peabody

TGIFF - love that extra F! Home from work today, apparently just to watch the rain fall out of the sky. Was hoping for a nice fall day to kick off my birthday weekend in style... but instead it's a soggy mountain breakdown. With my 43rd birthday just two days away, Sherman and Mr. Peabody showed up today with their Wayback Machine and whisked me back to the age of 31, when I last had a three year old in the house. And before I knew it, there I was this morning- sitting on the side of the bathtub for 15 minutes reading Clifford the Big Red Dog to my soon to be 4 year old nephew as he attempted to "poop on the potty!" There is something ever so precious about a 3 year old whose SportsCenter highlight is when the freakin' turtle pokes its head out for some air. Sitting on the bowl, he tucks his head between his knees for a closer look and returns to me with a big ol' grin and the eyes so wide they would make Little Orphan Annie look stoned. "My poop is coming, Uncle Kenny!" And in case I did not believe him, lil' Aidan felt a need to prove it by lifting up his cheeks off the seat to show me. And lord, at splashdown, you would have thought this kid had just won the lottery. Two hi-fives and one knuckle-touch made the moment complete. Kinda made me long for the days when a successful visit to the toilet was cause for reward rather than complaints about not spraying.

Side Note: Being an Uncle comes with a whole host of responsibilities, such as teaching the "Pull My Finger" game and the proper annunciation of "Shit!" But there are some other expecations that come with the territory. For example, if your 3 year old nephew happens to have a bag of sticky-back letters, any responsible uncle would know exactly what to do.

With the toilet party over, the Wayback Machine shot my ass back to 42 with just two days to go before the big 43. I hear people all the time fret about turning another year older. Foreign to me is the notion that another birthday is cause for depression and denial. I actually look forward to turning 43 - mainly because I have no choice and it certainly beats the alternative.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Merry Christmas and Shaddupayooface!

It is now Day 3 since 4th and 2 and I have started to settle down. It was just a coaching decision…. Time to fuhget about it. On to more pressing matters –

Tis the season to be jolly… but you just better not be Christian! I ain’t no bible thumper and the closest I get to church these days is watching Clay, Opie and their brothers sit around that redwood table on Tuesday nights. So my argument has nothing to with whether or not Christ is my savior or if 3 wise men on camels really did schlep through the desert following a star for days just to get to a birthday party in a barn. My argument is about calling out all of the assholes who have decided to make it their mission to destroy MY holiday and MY traditions. Hell, as a state employee, I’ve already lost Bunker Hill Day and Evacuation Day… I must protect Christmas!!!

So, can someone please tell me exactly what it is about Christmas that is offensive? No, seriously… what the fuck is it about a tree decorated with lights, tinsel and a plastic angel that makes your skin crawl? And why does a doll laying on a bed of hay in the town common piss you off so much that you call the mayor and demand to have it removed? Seriously, are you worried that the camels might piss on your town lawn (they are not real camels, you dumb shit)? Or do you really think that your precious little over-protected politically-corrected child might see a manger scene and be scarred for life, afraid that the Christians are coming, the Christians are coming?

No I am serious… answer these fukkin questions!!! What is it about “Merry Christmas” that sounds like “Go to hell – my religion kicks ass and you suck!” Wishing good Yule tidings is neither an insult nor a recruitment tactic… I am not trying to rope you into my church or brainwash your kids into becoming Santa lovers. (BTW, your kids already love Santa – neener neener neener). Merry Christmas means… um… Merry Christmas. Much like raising a drink to all the non-Irish out there on St. Patrick’s Day, it is simply about pleasantries. So Merry Christmas Assholes!

This year, a local school has made headlines because they have issued rules for their “Holiday Gift Shop” that prohibits, yep…. HOLIDAY themed items! I shit you not!!! Isn’t that like opening up a bait shop that does not sell bait? Among the items listed that are prohibited are candy canes (they could be sharpened into deadly weapons, you know) and red and green tissue paper (obviously, red and green are Christmas colors). I have a suggestion to any parent who has the balls to be pissed about this… don’t give them one red cent or any of your green money.

Many loud mouths out there trying to shut down Christmas like to preach about Separation of Church and State…. I am so bullshit and tired of hearing people yammer on about that as if that phrase were really in the Constitution. Time for all of you to actually do a little learning… or let me save you some time- That phrase is NOWHERE in our Constitution: Regarding religion, the First Amendment states very clearly that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof...” So, in fact, it is UNCONSTITUTIONAL to tell people that they cannot exercise their beliefs freely. By the way, those people who want to keep candy canes and Santas out of schools are the same politically correct asshats telling us that we must show tolerance and allow Muslims to practice their faith wherever and whenever they need. So, Muslims, Jews, Pagans and Muppets – feel free to worship and celebrate… but to you Christians, keep your shit to yourself and inside your own home!!

I’m done ranting for now. It is time to start a campaign to get rid of Thanksgiving – I mean, isn’t Thanksgiving an insult to all the people out there who are NOT thankful? And while we are at it, we should also start discussions about Birthdays. Saying Happy Birthday should no longer be allowed in schools and workplaces for fear of excluding the sad and those who were never born. We can talk next week about how Friday is offensive to onion rings.

Monday, November 16, 2009

What Do You Mean There Is No Fifth Down?

Pats fans.... get off the ledge! Yeah, it was a crazy decision and our boys basically gift wrapped that winning touchdown for PFM and his Indianapolis Dolts. Yeah, the reddened hand print is still clear as day on my right thigh; an early morning reminder of the anger that had boiled over as Kevin Faulk fell a half yahd shoht of the first down mahkah. Note to self: open hand slap on bare leg hurts like all git out! Whether or not Faulk really got that first down does not matter... what matters is that the Pats wasted a perfect opportunity to end the undefeated hopes of that country bumpkin quarterback and to protect their own record streak of 21 consecutive regular season victories. What matters is that we now have to listen to the "experts" like Trent Dillweed and Chris Callhimworthless talk about how Belichick has lost his mojo! Wonder if Joey Porter will have time to chime in on this game since he had no words after his ass beating last week.

I gotta tell you, I hated the decision and really hated the result. BUT - had Laurence Maroney held onto the football like a fat kid holds a cupcake, the home town boys would have been up by three scores and the decision making of a 3 time Super Bowl winning coach would not be in question this morning. And had Brady not thrown the pick in the endzone in the second quarter ending another impressive drive, the game would have been a Tennessee Titan-like blowout. Had they converted and got the first down with 2 minutes to play, all of us would be yammering on about how what separates Belichick from the rest... that he has the balls to do things that no other coach would do. That being said, I am not gonna defend the call... has to be the worst decision since someone thought Fish would be a successful spinoff of Barney Miller. Punt the freakin' ball away please!

But back to the rest of the game - alot more good than bad. So buck up younguns.... the future looks great! Sebastian Vollmer made Dwight Freeney's spin move look like the hokey pokey all night! Freeney never laid a fingernail on Tommy Boy. The freakishly big German had an All Pro like game last night and was by far the best offensive lineman on the field. Matty Whiff Light had better start studying the right side playbook... cuz it seems Nick Kaczur may need a little time off for bad behavior after playing Ole with Robert Mathis all night.

Don't even need to talk about BTM and BTW - their shit always comes up roses (Brady to Moss and Brady to Welker, fyi). My main man Kevin Faulk You I Got the First Down did his thing to perfection (well, except running that last pass route along the invisible yellow line - should have gone a yahd deepah, Kevin). The defense forced the Colts to punt 6 times in the first half alone!!! They hadn't punted 6 times in a freakin GAME. Plus, the secondary played a hell of a game causing those vaunted rookie Colt receivers to play like their hands were coated in cement. But whatevah.... And perhaps the best part of the night... The Colts and their piped in crowd noise did nothing to rattle the Pats. ZERO false starts and ZERO offsides penalties. So they can take that cheesy tactic and stuff it up Irsay's ass!

Other notes from the game: Does Jim Caldwell EVER make a facial expression? I swear the Colts coach was wearing a freakin' mask or something. How bout a little smile... or a little frown... or some sign of life?..... Loved the Rodney Harrison-Tony Dungy interactions! But didn't a small part of you picture Rodney diving across the table to take out Dungy and hurt his knee in the process?.... Colts cheerleaders! nuff said!.....
So, fellow Pats fans... relax today! Except for the final score and losing any chance at home field advantage against the Colts, the rest of the night was a positive! The Dolts had allowed an average of 13 points/game until Brady, Moss & Welker, LLC torched their sorry asses. Give me the Colts on any field and next time, we win the game going away! That is, unless Belichick opts to play with blindfolds and ankle ties.

It's November 16th, 62 degrees and sunny in New England. The Pats are 6-3 and 2 games up in their own division. The red mark on my leg still stings but I am smiling because Rex Ryan brings his big mouth and his 4-5 Jets to Foxboro next Sunday for a reintroduction to reality. Ryan can send out all the former Patriots he wants to the coin toss - I say Belichick sends out a couple of cheerleaders carrying a tray of whoopie pies.

Friday, November 13, 2009

The Time is Now

When the time comes, I'm gonna shine up my shotgun! Been joking around about that for years. Made promises to lock her in the ivory tower as soon as the boys started a callin. Even went so far a few years ago as to threaten her with Ex-Lax brownies in her school lunch. The beauty of middle school is that just one shit in your pants accident and you will be known as Shitty Britches McPoo for the duration of your school career. Kinda puts a crimp in any dating plans, wouldn't ya say? Without saying much more, all you need to know is that the Homecoming Dance is tonight and my "little girl" tried on dresses last night. I cannot begin to tell you how beautiful she will look. As soon as I am done with this, I have to get to Walgreens to get me some Ex-Lax.

Chris will be strapping on the pads tonight for a first round playoff game with Alvirne against Bishop Guertin. He and his boys have their work cut out for them - they lost to BG two weeks ago by a score of 48-0. That is not a mark against Alvirne as much as it is a statement on BG. They have not lost this year, winning 10 games by an average of 38 points per game. So the outlook is freakin' bleak to say the least. But as I told Chris, the table is set for the biggest upset in NH high school sports history. However, a win will also mean another week of handling and washing his practice gear - a task that has brought his mother to dry heaves and his father to tears.

Oh... before I forget - Jessica will be driving on the roads in a month. We broke the law a "little" bit the other day when I let her drive home from Taylor's house (around the block)... luckily, she gets the whole gas pedal on the right, brake on the left. What she doesn't get is the steering wheel and its functionality. So, a few near misses with mailboxes and a terrified skateboarder later, we have decided to keep her practice sessions to empty parking lots and XBox games. If you live anywhere near Hudson, I strongly recommend you upping your collision insurance.

72 Virgins? Not for you two nitwits!

Looks like somebody's been skipping their Terrorist 101 classes. Give your life for the Jihad - Die in the name of Allah and you shall be rewarded in heaven with 72 virgins. That is how I understand the radical beliefs of Islam extremists fighting some holy war against the west. If I'm wrong, oh well - still makes for amusing fodder. Seems to me that in the past couple of weeks, two dudes have had the big virgin carpet yanked out from under their feet. But I will get to those dim bulbs in a minute. First, let's examine this crazy ass promise of the virgins in heaven - First, ya gotta ask yourself why did these chicks go to the great resting place in the sky as virgins? I'm thinking there is not a beauty pageant winner among them. Is it really going to be worth filling your Honda Civic or your fishing vest with TNT and taking the express lane to the big orgy in the sky? And call me nuts, but wouldn't the better promise be 72 wildly energetic nymphomaniacs with all kinds of know-how about things we could never imagine? Now you're talking about hitting the suicide bomber lottery.

Today I announce a tie for first place in the Loser of the Month Club:

The awards go to Nidal Malik Hasan and Tarek Mahanna. Since there is only one trophy, Nidal and Tarek have agreed to beat the shit out themselves with it until they are both dead and on the escalator to 72 Virgin Lane.

This first rant is really against Political Correctness - Let's think for a moment about Fort Hood, Texas and the Army Major who decided it was time to shoot up some Americans in the name of Allah. Did I spell that correctly? Oh wait a minute - that's right... I don't give a rat's ass. PS... that does not make me a racist or a hate monger - it simply means that I don't care if I spell the word for someone else's God correctly. In case you started to drift that way. Nidal Malik Hasan spent months online commuincating with Jihadist websites and Al Qaeda recruiters. He had business cards calling himself a Soldier of Allah. And the FBI was aware of all of this. But the government did nothing about it, most likely because the halestorm that would have surely followed, accusations of profiling and discrimination against Muslims. Um... near as I can tell, that would be like calling the arrest of Jeffrey Dahmer discrimination against people named Jeffrey. By the way, just to make myself clear: I am all in favor of discrimination against people plotting to destroy my country. I don't care if they are Muslim or Christian or Democrats or fukkin Fraggle Rock puppets. The liberally slanted media has jumped on board also and I heard this morning that society was gripped with "Islamaphobia." NO FUKKIN WAY ASSHOLES! This is not Islamaphobia... I call it "nutjobbomberphobia"... it's not new - has been around since the Revolutionary War. Chris "I'd Bang Obama If Michelle Would Let Me" Matthews actually had the balls to suggest that Hasan "calling up Al Qaeda" was not a crime. Um... an Army Major contacting the enemy IS A FUCKING CRIME YOU POMPOUS PRICK! It's called treason! I actually had an argument with some shithead small town politician last week about this. He asked me if the "many years of Hasan's honorable service to our country means nothing to me." Heehee... what do you think my answer to that was? Give you a hint - it included a few F bombs! He also suggested that Hassan's "shrink" is to blame for his suicide by MP because of his failure to treat his PTSD!! I shit you not - in this idiot's mind, Nidal Malik Hasan's brutal murdering spree in the name of Allah is explained away by a psychiatrist's lapse.

Side note: Not only did Hasan survive being shot, he now gets to wake up and find out that a woman filled his traitor ass with holes and ended his mission for Allah. Not only does he lose out on the virgins, his personal Jihad was cut short by a woman! Now if you want to define Poetic Justice, you can start there.

What's the other "No Virgins For You" story?

The "American" from Sudbury, MA who is being held charged with conspiracy to commit terrorist acts (by the way, his name is NOT John Smith) is being asked to be released on bail. This idiot and two other like minded shitheads had plans to enter terrorist training camps in the Middle East but that did not work out. Guess even the terrorists have rules about flat feet. So their Plan B was the murder of two members of the executive branch or to "shoot up mall shoppers." Guess they were trying to impress the Grand Poobah in charge of terrorist training camps. There is plenty of evidence that this asshat would have gone forward with his plans had he not been stopped. Yet, there they were - protesters outside the courthouse yesterday wearing shirts demanding Tarek Mahanna (which roughly translated means "They kicked me out of terrorist school because I'm from Sudbury") be released. His attorneys are actually saying he should be released on bail because he is an "unfit terrorist"... I'm telling you I can not make this shit up. Will it never end?

Thursday, November 5, 2009

You Got 27 Rings… And All I Have Is This One Fingah!

Start spreading the news… I’m puking today. Don’t say it… don’t say it… OH FUCK – John Sterling said it! And then Frank Sinatra sang it. Billy Crystal went swinging from Ronan Tynan’s ears. Kate Hudson started counting her World Series share and ARod gave Jeter a championship handy and the happy ending he’s been praying for since 2000. Those self-promoting pinstripe wearing millionaires ruined my Novembah last night when Petey Martinez took the hill at Yankee Stadium, gift wrapped a few beachballs for Hideki Matsushi and couldn’t make it to the 5th inning. After 5, the score was 7-1 and there was nothing left but the locker room bukaki party! I know, complaining about the Yanks is petty and childish. So I’m petty and childish… no shit! It’s about time you figured that out.

If you are a Yankee fan reading this drivel, log off and get your ass to the parade… the Canyon of Heroes is one asshole short and they are wondering where you are. By now, you may have gathered that I am a Sox fan. So, of course I hate the Yankees as much as, if not more than, I love my BoSox. But I am not going to hide behind anything here. I could give a shit less about how much money the Yankees spent. That’s a lame excuse here in Boston, because we all know that if the Sox could spend it, they would. Hell, I would have no problem if the Sox got into gun running with SAMCRO if it were to bring in enough money to compete with the Yanks payroll (Sons of Anarchy fans out there?). The crux of my hatred is born from years of watching those assholes ALMOST always beat my team. Behind years of listening to Yankee fans bullshit about rings, 1918 and Bucky Fuckin Dent, blah fukkin blah, you can easily understand why we like to chant “Yankees Suck” everywhere we go - from Patriots games to baptisms. We Sox fans have a but a few good memories and we will NEVAH EVAH let them go … ahem… choke on a 3-0 series lead you dickheads?... Now don’t go gettin your Reggie Jackson panties in a bunch about that reference. I know it was 5 years ago and I also know that Yankee fans have elected to dismiss that classic collapse as “ancient history.” But if those dillweeds wanna go the “what have you done for me lately?” route, then they are gonna have to shove their “Got Rings” tshirts up their collective Bronx asses. Um… 26 of those rings are “ancient history.”

I bristle at everything Yankee. I just do. When a fellow Sox fan (or worse, a Yankee fan) tries to tell me that I have to like Derek Jeter, I always respond with a big fat “Fuck that!!” What is there to like about him? He is a Yankee, has more rings than any Red Sox player and spends his nights banging hot chicks! Jeter can take his 5 rings and go to hell – he’s a douche! From Monument Park to the Home & Garden white fence ringing the top of their stadium; From Ronan Tynan’s enormous fucking ears (he can communicate with Mars with those freakin' satellite dish hat hangers) to John Sterling’s tired old saying; from Babe Fuckin Ruth to CC Safuckinbathia, the Yankees fahkin SUCK!!!

As if I needed any more fuel, those Bronx Bombers raised the obnoxious coefficient to a mind-blowing new level after their win last night. AFraud was shown sobbing harder than Brett Favre at a retirement party, as if someone just shattered his full length mirror! Oh fukkin please you prick!! Get over yourself! ARod’s playoff performance will never erase the image of him making out with his own reflection or throwing his “cousin” under the bus in the “I thought they were tic tacs” steroid scandal. And how about Mark Teixeira letting us all know that God is a Yankee fan?

“I’ve been so faithful this entire time, in my entire career, and just been prayin, prayin, prayin to lead me in the right direction and, a, God didn’t let me down. He led me here and this is unbelievable.”

So, this asshat is trying to tell us that God decided he would root for the Yankees this year and not the Phillies? Someone had better dope slap this moron and remind him that it was the $180 million smackeroos that led him to the Bronx. Wait a minute – maybe it was God signed the fukkin check! My apologies Mark. Whadda douche!

As I said, I do not make excuses… I know the Yankees are the best team in baseball this year! That cannot be denied. What also cannot be denied is that we Sox fans not only have the right to hate the Yankees, we have the responsibility to hate them with all of our Chowdah eatin’ hearts. Speaking of which, New England clam chowder is way fukkin better than Manhattan clam chowder. Ya just can’t have red chowder…. So in a sense – WE WIN!!!! Neener neener neener assholes!!!