Thursday, March 31, 2011

Day 91: Day before April and this stuff?!?!

Yes....I'm tired of the cold. I'm tired of the snow. I'm tired of having to scrape my car windows in the morning.


Warm weather....a dream now; a reality in the future.

Day 90: Don't Hate!! SPAM is a highly developed caviar.

In phases I go.....sometimes loving it and other times not so much. All I usually need is some cheap white bread (I wonder how Vienna bread would work...), some mustard and once in a while a slice of cheese.

Day 89:

Not making fun of parents are those that assume responsibility, but if my Mom & Pops started talkin' to me about this I would do a form of meditation to take me away for that place and time.

Day 88: Muskrattatouie!

Noticed a number of these lil' critters at Cascades. Never when I have my camera on hand, but I had it on Monday! Woo Hoo! Go me.....

Day 87: Can't Sleep....

Sunday nights (early Monday morning) are one of the most difficult to fall asleep. Drives me crazy. Even if I keep my pattern throughout the weekend I'll still suffer a lack of sleep Monday.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Day 86: Old School Faces

For a number of years I coached a great many kids in gymnastics. Actual sport aside, I also like to think that I imparted so many other odd lessons, though don't ask me what.

It was such a wonderful time, keeping me sane in a time I had little to feel good about. There were so many times when I wasn't in the mood to go on, but I enjoyed going to work because I had an effect on the children. I had the power to make their days better. Beyond gymnastics, I could really give them an example of positivity that I myself didn't necessarily feel inside myself.

Separating myself from the job - the kids - was part of my initial falling into a darker place. Thinking the Army would do me a great deal of good, while it did long-term, it also took me away from one of the few things I really enjoyed with a passion.

Not to knock on friends I had at the time. Many of you were just as important to me as the children at the gym, but in so many cases, my mind wandered not to friends as a depressant but to the lack of other things. Lack of direction in life. Lack of motivation. Family - meaning friends as much as blood - will always be there. Even if the relationships change, you can always look to good friends for an ear to speak to, or a joke to help pull you out of a funk.

Those friends can't give you confidence, however, and that's where the gym-kids come in. Teaching them was the only thing at which I felt I was truly good.

Fast forward to now...

Once in a while, I'll talk to a kid and it warms my heart to know that I've given them experiences of which they're super fond. Something that they can look back on and smile. One laughs and shares that she never uses the word "good" or "fine" in response to the question "How are you," because those responses are only four letters and boring; something I would give them hell for because I knew my kids were smart enough to think of more descriptive words. More than a few tell me they think of me whenever they stretch or workout and have to work through the pain. They just imagine me walking around them while they were in their splits, saying antagonizingly, " your friend. It helps keep you aliiiive. Lets you that you are still awake."

Yes, I totally pulled it from G.I. Jane, but I adopted a Major Payne voice for comedic purposes.

The girl in the pic is Sidnee (said like the place in Australia), a former gymnast of mine I met last night after more than a decade. She was probably 10 the last time I saw this girl, and it was such an awesome thing recognizing her. Her story was that one of her stronger memories was doing pullovers on my arm (she was and still is quite a tiny body).

Small world, eh?

Day 85: Live From Jackson Coffee Co.....


Definitely a great act, but they raised a question, posed by Buffcock, about obvious religious tones in more secular places. Where do we draw the line? If they sing music of a religious nature, is it enough to argue that it's beautiful music or should it be not sung because some might be offended? Their mid-song comments about praising the that too far?

This is a public coffee shop that has live music for free every Friday night, but should it be used as a podium from which to spread a certain message, a message not necessarily about just music. What if there was an Indian group performing music about Hindu gods, and then telling a story about Hinduism? Is it the same? More offensive or less so? What about a Jewish act? A Muslim act?

Friday, March 25, 2011


Caught these icicles hanging despite yesterday's warm weather. How could they still hold like that have? Even after driving all willy-nilly all over, they're still there even at the end of the day. That's commendable.

If they had a voice, I'm sure they would be belting out "I WILL SURVIVE!"

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Day 83: Socky!

An old gift from my sister, Hez, given to me years ago. As it looks, it's a sock with beans and/or rice in it. Throw it in the microwave for 2-3 minutes, and you have a very flexible and warm pad/thing to wrap around your neck, lie under your back, or anywhere else you can think to place it.

I've been using it quite a bit the past day and a half due to an incredibly sore neck. :/

Day 82: Get Ready for the Sound of My Own Horn!

When I read that score on my paper, I was overjoyed. More excited than I ever was getting a good score on any Anat & Phys exam. More excited even than the time Natalie Portman came into my bedroom and made sweet, poetic, passionate, romance-book worthy love to me, followed by intensely wild, dirty, sordid, unholy, sacrilegious morning sex in which resulted in damage done to the bed, bathroom counter top, two chairs, the stairway railing, the death of a Ukranian midget (cleaning lady), and a stain on my nice khaki slacks. get the idea that I was excited with the score. The other thing...didn't really happen. It would great if it did though, don't you agree? At least I have good material for bedtime thoughts tonight ;)

That score, from a college professor that really drives it home, makes you work for your grade as if at a university, and draws much ire from the student body, meant a great deal. Even in high school, where I discovered my love for creative writing, I struggled with research papers. Hell....I can't remember even trying to learn how to cite back then.

Nearly a decade ago, I was in ENG 132 but dropped out of it. Two reasons why I dropped out of it: I wasn't interested in school at the time, and I was intimidated by so much work in writing (I was lazy).

As the years passed, I developed a more profound respect for academia. Writing in particular, as I began broadening my horizon with literature consumed and found beauty in works that held sway over myself and others.

"He who is a master of words, is a master of men," another person once wrote. Author is forgotten, but I remember it very well. It touched me very deeply, and even brought a certain appreciation of the effect I have over others. I have understanding of the profound love people hold for the Dalai Lama, having heard him speak and reading his works. The same applies for Pope John Paul 2 and Leo Buscaglia. I understand how post-WWI Germany could be so swayed by the words of not so impressive Austrian man and hang on his words. Hell, I watch old videos of him and I'm tempted to throw up a salute, scream "sieg Heil," and start a' goose steppin'.

A bit of digression, but I'm coming back to my earlier points.

My English professor's grading of my work, and several other's comments have really bolstered my confidence in writing. It has made me realize how much I enjoy writing and even enjoy learning how to be a better writer.

One friend, whom I'll name K-Did, commented, "you really know to captivate people with words," really made me all warm and tingly inside. It touched me that someone thinks that highly of my ability to write. Thanks K-Did!! Almost sounds like "K-Fed," doesn't it?

I haven't yet given up on nursing, but between my English class and recent blogging, I wonder if journalism is the way I should go in life. If I win the lottery on Friday night, I'm forgetting all this nonsense of nursing, and getting a degree in journalism. Then I'll write freelance for fun :)

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Day 81: Bringing Sexy Back

Pic from Monday is Vernie sportin' her new Do'! Not very interesting, but I find it to be funny. The hair continually grows and I hate caring for it. Hell, I hate caring for my own hair. So tedious, but I love the fact that I still have hair (*knocks on wood*).

I love my lil' Vernicus (see a FB note titled "The Dog of Many Names"), and I do a hell of a lot for this mutt. Little wuss dog or not, she has so much personality that it's sick. She's kept me company on many a rainy, sad days. She's watched over me, and many others, when we haven't been feeling well, and has even shared her bunny with us. She makes us laugh with her ridiculous antics.

In short, I love my dog. And yes, there are already several photos of her on this blog, but I find a lot of joy and pleasant thoughts in this dog. She's as much a therapist as any counselor; as much a confidante as any Golden Girl.

She's a teacher in many ways. She's very content. All she needs is sustenance, attention, love and a place to lie down. Four simple things. She loves her toys too, but she doesn't often lie with her toys (aside from her Bunny). She loves her snacks, but I doubt she'd miss them if we stopped getting them.

Already I'm getting sad thinking about a day without her. Seeing her in the shop before bringing her home, I'd never have imagined she'd be "that dog" to which all other dogs are compared. I've had other dogs growing up, but she's the one that will really go down in the books as the best dog I've ever called mine, and she wasn't orginally meant to be mine!

Final thought.....check this out...

Monday, March 21, 2011

Day 80: FATALITY!!! 'Nuff Said's a crappy photo.'s Mortal Kombat related. Yes...that is a head in Johnny Cage's hand. Scorpion's head to be precise.

Funny that the day after I take it, I would very much like to do just that to others. No one specific....anyone will do.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Day 79: The Lazy Mexican

Yes, it's true that I have Coffee House loyalty, but I'm not opposed to checkin' out other places from time to time. However, I will maintain that I prefer the coffee at Jackson Coffee Co to anything else we have in town. The only one-up Beaner's or Tim Horton's (shudder) has over JCo. is the infinitely better hours, as JCo closes at 7pm five days of the week, 10pm on Friday and is closed on Sunday.

Though I do appreciate that they close on Sunday to allow the workers a steady day off.

Back to the photo: the location of the photo and the title of the blog should really tell you a lot. If it takes you a minute, that's okay, but I won't share it online. It's more fun to vocalize it.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Day 78: The Divine Familyhood of the Andy's Traveling Eyeglasses....

Playing a rousing game of Rummy last evening, it struck us that Angela has never been raped by my glasses. Well.....that's a thing of the past. She doesn't know that she's been impregnated by a devious, parasitic life-form and come 8 days an alien/Andy's glasses hybrid will burst forth from her thorax and wreak havoc.

Okay....probably not.

Katie-Did made a suggestion that it become a series of photos. A collection, if you will, and I'm pretty excited. I'll start it soon. Just collect more photos of people wearing my glasses.'s sort of fun.

Initially thinking my glasses were dorky but comfortable (and stylish really), people started wearing them at random. I started snapping shots of people wearing them because it's fun to see who looks good in my glasses. In most cases....people look pretty good in these glasses. So....the project starts....

I think it was Buffcock who said it...."The Divine Familyhood of Andy's Traveling Eyeglasses."

Oh....another potential collection/album to start up. Chucks....

Friday, March 18, 2011

Day 77: Cute-Girl-In-Green-Chucks

Saw a brilliantly cute (in my opinion) girl walk in Duffy's on Patty's Day. Maybe not very high on the scale of many other's list of "what's hot," but she had a look that I just adored. Then....her personality vindicated me. Such a good natured girl. She permeated raw appeal to me. Good humor, good looks and spoke intelligently.

Did I speak to her at random? I wish I had....just to say that I was I bold enough to approach such a delicious young lady. Though it wasn't boldness at all that led me to a brief conversation with her. It was...her shoes.

Now, I could really drag this out...but it would begin resembling a Penthouse forum letter. An explicit story heavy on the the erotic and dripping with perverse fetish wishes.

Yes, I'm intensely attracted to Chucks. Maybe it's because the girls I'm usually most attracted to have a tendency to wear them. I think that's it. So many of the really cool girls over the years have been wearers of Chucks, with an alarming track record, and it has become a sort of qualifier if I'll be attracted to you or not.

Very visual...but the track record of intensely cool and pretty girls wearing them has me convinced. So convinced that the mere sight of a pair of Chucks on a girl can bring her visual appeal up way high.

Perversely, I've even said that if I had to choose between a girl wearing Chucks in bed or high heels in bed (yes...straight outta porn), I'd always choose the Chucks. Hands down. Heels just don't do it for me. Chucks do it for me. Playboy playmates be damned (they don't really do it for me). Chucks all the way....

Sickly, this same girl and I both think it'd be cool to have the lady wear white chucks in a wedding dress, instead of heels. God I love her.....I want to marry her.....almost kidnapped her too.

Day 76: Stolen Goods....

Sometime last weekend, while sitting at the bar with friends I noticed that most Jackson bars were going to be slinging these Killian's glasses for a few extra bucks. Glass and fill up was $6, and not a bad deal in my opinion. I did indeed buy one, but this pictured glass is not the glass I picked up on Patty's Day. This glass, as a matter of fact was one I stole from a bar in town last Patty's Day, an act that was a nice lil' tale of dumb drunks thinkin' they're crafty.

Last Saint Patty's Day, our early group of Bonesmen - Angela, Bill, Katie and myself - started our day off at Duffy's. Copious amounts of green beer was consumed, and even a little Irish-themed food. 'Twas a beautiful day sitting out on the patio area of Duffy's, enjoying the cold beer and even better company, but eventually we had it in us to find our way to the Hunt Club (the scene of the crime). is where the details get a little fuzzy. I remember being at the Hunt Club. I don't remember drinking the Killian's or ordering it. I do remember that thinking the glass was bomb ass, and that I simply had to have it. We spent lord knows how many minutes trying to conceive - drunkenly mind you - of a way to spirit this glass out of the place without raising any suspicions. We thought were clever too, but God it'd be funny seeing us from a sober perspective.

We ended up sticking it down the sleeve of my hoodie, and closing off the end of the hoodie with a hair tie. INGENIOUS! Maybe not, but it sure was hella funny!

Oh....Saint Patty's day this year, I more appropriately purchased one from Duffy's. thievery this year, and the lonely first one now has a mate. Wonder if the more honest glass feels like it's next to one from the wrong side of town ;)

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Day 75: Andy's Delusion of Grandeur

Yes....I think I'm gonna do it this year. The entry form is also printed out and hanging on the wall next to this one so I don't forget.

Day 74: Dumb Dog...

Maybe the title is erroneous. Abberdoodles isn't necessarily dumb; maybe she's just...picky. She was offered, post walk, a bit of Gatorade by my dear Annay. Maybe the red color scared, though mutts are supposed to be color blind. Smell? Can't imagine it smelling worse than the dirty snow she's shown to be eating.

Dogs are pretty funny in many different areas. Anyone who has ever owned a dog knows this. Watching a dog go from tree to tree to tree to tree, only to have them return to the first checked tree to raise it's leg and mark it as their own.

What was wrong with that tree in the first place?! Also....what the hell was wrong with the other trees? I've seen dogs do this over the years. Even now, I often watch my dog walk back and forth along the front part of the yard; pacing back and forth for what seems like hours on end before deciding on the right spot to relieve her bladder. Often she waits until I lose my patience and threaten to beat her for making me stand outside this long, waiting on her, before she finally decides to micturate.

Dogs and pooping go very much the same way.

What odd stories do y'all have about dogs? Stories that would suggest a silly/picky dog?

Monday, March 14, 2011

Day 73: Buzz & Me....

Family party and I nod off for a few. During those few minutes, I get "Cap'n Morgan'ed" by Buzz, sort of.

I have more I want to share on this issue of night time pranks, but I've got a bit of work to do.....

Perhaps I'll snap a shot of myself doing similar things that were done to soldiers while I was deployed. Yes.....that will make for an even more fun trip down memory lane.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Day 72: The Almighty Sarlacc

Okay....this is a candle in an old Hershey's syrup can, which makes for a great candle holder. It is not, in fact, the Almighty Sarlacc, which were you to be eaten you would be slowly digested over a thousand years.

Kinda neat I thought.....I might have to do some candle photography as the year progresses.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Day 71: Rule #32

My Friday place of biz. Not that I really do any business there. I just enjoy a warm beverage, some live music, and hopefully the company of good friends.

Nothing major....just something small I enjoy. "Enjoy the little things," right Columbus?

Day 70: Okay, I'm not really Shamu...

While I'm not as obese as I pass myself off as, I'm nowhere as healthy looking as I'd like to be. Quite chubby, and it does look worse from the side. Still.... :/

This pic will serve as a form of motivation; a reminder to look at and see. Motivation will also take form with another photo from the past where I'm considerably slimmer and less grotesque looking. Constant reminders of not how I desire to look, but to feel. In the slimmer pics, I was better able to play a game of ball, shoot some hoops, go for a run, or just walk up stairs instead of the elevator. I was able to buy a pair of pants without having to deal with size discrepancies: like having to really search for a pair of 44" waist size pants with a 30" leg. Those sizes are out there, but they're usually picked through.

My goal is that by the time I decide to put another similar photo, you'll see significantly less of me, and maybe by year's end (or earlier) I'll have another photo up where I'm in a shirt/pair of jeans that I recently packed away because I can't fit into, like the one on the previous photo blog.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Day 69: A Real Hypertensive Hero

This is a semi depressing photo, because it was a gift from a time when I could wear and look good in this shirt. I still own, in addition to this shirt, many other clothes that I refuse to get rid of in the hopes of fitting in them again. I even considered taking a photo of myself trying some of the stuff on, but decided not to depress myself too much.


Day 68: Lame Ass Snow

No story, no interest in creating something to go along with the pic. I'm just tired of snow at this point, and am ready for Spring. I would give Old Man Frost a good begonia rubbing if he'd leave town and let Spring and Summer come sooner.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Day 67: His Holy Dudeness

No story is involved here. You either get it or you won't, but it is what it is. This is for all my achievers out there.

I just happen to be ordained in two churches, by the way, and am legal to marry people in all 50 states. ;)

Monday, March 7, 2011

Day 66: Cleanin' up the sty...

It started with me putting away all of my clean laundry. No intentions of any massive undertaking at all. All I had to do was put away socks in a box under the bed and shirts in the closet.

Opening the closet and keeping my eyes open did me in. "Out of sight, out of mind," really applies here.


Usually, I'd just whip the closet door open and throw stuff in with little regard to how it fell. Getting stuff out of the closet isn't much different. It's amazing when you end wearing a too tight t-shirt or gaudy colored shirt because you have no desire to go back in there. Getting in there is tantamount to a deep Earth, archaeological expedition complete with a rope around the waste and a hard hat with attached lamp. That's how I feel anyway.

Looking into one of the few unclean elements of my room, I was overwhelmed and far too irritated to let it go on any longer. With reckless abandon I began digging in the way same a dog digs into the yard to bury a bone. For several minutes, I was bent over and shoveling stuff - clothing, unused backpacks and other items - between my legs just letting it fall wherever it might fall behind. Deeper I went in after the apparel was moved and started grabbing boxes to move. A couple games and all sorts of other stuff. Then I cleaned off the closet shelf of junk that no longer needs to be there.

I organized it all and even prepared several boxes and bags of stuff for a better home. Packed up all the pants and shirts (the ones my tubby ass no longer fits, but refuses to get rid of) and stacked them on the shelf. All in all, the closet now looks pretty damn snazzy.

So into the task and accompanying music of Johnny Cash (good cleaning tunes), I forgot to get any pics until half the mess (or more) had been cleaned up. Insanity really. Just made me laugh at one point that I only wanted to put laundry away, and ended up with a three hour task.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Day 65: Lame Snow....

Went to the Ann Arbor Comedy Club with a couple friends the other day and wouldn't you know I left my camera in the car? What a dumbass I am.

Oh well....this is a lame shot. Last minute and a few minutes before I hit the road home. Roads were treacherous and I took it very slow on the gas pedal. Made it home okay, so no major complaints.

I want to rant about how badly I want summer, but creative motivation escapes me today. Maybe tomorrow morning....

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Day 64: WIll the next Hottie come on down?!?!

Many people are aware of my love of the "Price is Right." It's not really that I am so enamored with the show at all, and even when it's on my attention isn't really focused on it at all. Instead I keep my focus on my 'puter - the interwebz in general - occasionally looking up when guests are called down. If the guest is a hottie, my attention will shift focus to the hottie's parts on the show.

I'm not sure how I feel about her name, "Pretty," but at least it's descriptive. She certainly was a very beautiful girl, and she didn't bet $1 over another person's bid in order to get her way onstage, which increases her desirability. She didn't go to the Showcase Showdown, but oh well. Just making the show is cool in it's own right, plus you get free shit no matter. Plus, from the looks of the movements of her curves, I doubt she was wearing a boulder holder; further supported by the lack of visible bra straps.

While in Chicago, a friend made the comment that if I get together with a girl, she had better be able to tolerate my eye for the ladies. Further explanation was that even if I'm not unfaithful, I have a tendency to appreciate looking at lovely women, and this could be a problem to any potential Mrs Beau.

If I self analyze, I come to the conclusion it's because I don't have a girlfriend. Had I the girlfriend, I'd still probably be very aware of pretty girls (any guy saying they don't notice anymore is a liar, more often than not). Notice them, but not do anything that would be considered dishonest. To use the phrase, "I'll peruse the menu, but that doesn't mean I'll order anything."

I'm not even strongly attuned to any form of pornographic material. Sure, I have my SuicideGirls site, which features nude photography, but there's a great deal more to the site than just photos. Might be harder to understand when you're not part of it, but it's a guilty pleasure of mine. I've even benefited from the site's forums and groups. Most of my early Macbook education - outside of just playing with my Mac - came from the SG Mac Lover's group. Even developed a few friends from the site with whom I have regular correspondence.

Porn is largely a joke. Playboy? Only if someone else has it on hand, and I'm one of the few who will often read the articles. Any other mags are just sad. Pornographic videos? Pass. It all looks so fake, and the women look bored and pissed off in general. In the past I liked amateur/voyeur videos, but because they reminded me of my own exploits. Even my interest in those died when it clicked how sad it is that I'm taking any pleasure in watching others get down.

As mentioned before in a past blog (I think), I have a harder to define "type." Very generically, I like a pretty girl, but to say what makes her pretty is hard to pin down. An easy on the eyes face is always good, but there are plenty of pretty girls that have shitty attitudes or other flaws that I can't abide. Some girls are pretty, but there is no real chemistry between us, so it's a no-go.

The physical body really doesn't mean anything to me. Sure, some girls look good in a bikini, but it's not a big deal. From a visual point of view, I like athletic girls, but I think this is in part because I would like to be with someone who would serve as motivation, and a partner with whom I could share a good run every now and then.

Style of dress is an oddball topic. It's easier to say what I don't like. Sweatpants in public is a big no-no (unless you're working out). High heels really don't do it for me at all; give me a pair of chucks in a dress and I like it. Too fancy & coordinated of dressers bother me; as in when the girl really pays attention to fashion magazines and what is on the rack at Prada, Armani, Gucci and so on. Don't get me wrong, the stuff is nice, but let me be honest, and I like nice clothes, but the girls who dress like this have a very apparent superficial quality; in my eyes they do.

Give me a girl in a cute sundress, pair of Chuck Taylor's or girl in nice jeans with nice sweater or a girl in jeans, bad ass boots, and black tank top. Flannels on girls? LOVE IT! Wearing punk clothing? LOVE IT! A loose shirt baring a shoulder (like pic above) drives me wild, because it makes me think of the 80's, thus: LOVE IT!

Wow.....this is longer than I anticipated it would be. I'll sign off for now....

Friday, March 4, 2011

Day 63: Does the Pope Shit in the Woods?

Maybe it's just a guy thing. Perhaps it's more than just a guy thing, however, and it's the ruminations of a guy who likes to drop loads that inspired this photo to be taken.

Very simply, the expulsion of feces from our bodies is a mechanical process; the result of food breakdown and the selective absorption of nutrients being excreted via our bungholes (future task: look up the etymology of "bunghole").

Sounds very technical and normal, doesn't it? It's so much more than that however....

Shitting often is the break we need in a tedious and painful work day. It allows us to catch up on texts and voicemails. It provides us with a gem of time in which to read (or write) a book (consider mercy flushing); which to that end they even have a line of books called "Uncle John's Bathroom Readers." I do some good video gaming (via my DS) on the can. Hell, I've even Facebooked on my Macbook...on the can!

Talking on the phone is something that is sometimes done, though not as often. Pooping is a private thing, and I need time and quiet. You also have to worry about wiping when having a phone conversation on the john, but thank God for bluetooth headsets/speakerphones. Though another problem is presented by the inevitable flush, assuming you want your shitting to remain a secret.

Also to be shared at this time, my favorite places to shit:
- I love dropping the kiddies off at the pool at JCC's Potter Center second floor restrooms. Insanely quiet, undisturbed and very little traffic. I've studied in that bathroom before.
- JCC's second floor library restrooms for similar reason.
- The hotel bathrooms of the Tremont Chicago, The Mövenpick in Rome, and the Hyatt Regency in Columbus, Ohio.

Some of the best shits in my life have been at these places, however, situation has to be considered as well.

While still in boyscouts, I went on a backpacking trip down along the Smokey mountains and throughout the whole trip it was shitty against a tree when ya' needed to drop some fertilizer. A similar trip to Canada - canoeing instead of backpacking - had the same pattern of needing a more rugged method for dooking. Had to be careful in those situations that you didn't attract unnecessary attention and made sure you buried it in an area a bit off the beaten paths.

Coming out of the woods, in both cases I used an on site visitors center for bathroom purposes. Not the most comfortable toilets, nor the most clean, but those shits are often remembered and fondly thought of.

It could be said that a person remembers their most intensely satisfying shits in the same way they remember their best pieces of action. Not really the same, and often pooping has a negative, taboo connotation. I maintain that pooping has a more stress relieving effect than most other therapeutic tactics. Orgasmic release is more intense, but also has a greater margin for disappointment. Sad, but true.....not that I'd ever say my best shits were better than my best pieces of ass (funny that I say "ass" and I'm not an anal man).

And as a testament to my love of shitting, a love I know others share even if they deny it, often I find that it becomes a passionate conversation piece; serious even. Not always drawn out, like a topic on religion or politics, but it's funny how just about anyone can be dragged into a conversation concerning pooping.

Another day.....we'll talk about the infamous "j-hook."

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Day 62: Are you friggin' serious?!

This chess set was made in Florence, Italy and could be anyone' long as they have the means/interest to fork over $10,500 for it.'s pretty damn sick.

It was cool though. Highly detailed and modeled after the rival familes of the Medicis and the Pazzis. It was very cool, but for the price of over 10K? What in the hell?I could sell my car and not be in possession of a 1/4 of that amount.

Day 61: Chicago or NY Style? Hmmm......BOTH!

Had to take a bit of a break from the blog for a few days, though I took no break from thinking about it or taking photos with the project in mind. Still....

The epic battle....the age old question....good versus evil and all that horse shit....pales in comparison to the question of which is better: Chicago or NY style pizza?

Now, I'm a fan of thin crust pizza anyway, so NY style would probably win out, but I really loved the Pizza at Lou Malnati's. Like I told a few people, I fought the pizza and the pizza won. I figured that a paltry 6" personal deep dish wouldn't be quite enough, as I didn't have breakfast that morning, but I ate two pieces of the 9" of the pie set down infront of me. God it was so friggin' good.

Now....I have to work on that NY style pie.

Day 60: Beans and Cornbread....

First and guess the film. It's really quite obvious, but I'll leave it alone for now, because I have something else I want to yak about.

"Beans and Cornbread".....should mean something to a great number of us. It's a gustatory delight for the fat kid in all of us, but it's a phrase that refers to so much more. If the first thing that comes to mind is Louis Jordan then you're a bit old or have old (but good) taste in music.

For shits and giggles:

Correct if I'm wrong, but it was TBS that, in the past, would have an evening where they would show a particular movie, but during the commercials - and prior to the movie actually starting if I remember correctly - the two co-hosts would talk about the movie while preparing a particular dish/meal. It was a cool concept, really, stemming quite a bit of USA's "Up All Night," where either Gilbert Gottfriend or Rhonda "Made from the Best Stuff on Earth" Shear would throw around a little schtick and friendly banter.

What always made me smile the most, however, was as background music to the co-hosted segments of "Dinner and a Movie," was the tune "Beans and Cornbread" being sung in the background. I love this jingle so friggin' much that it used to work it's way into my melon all the time. My sister Bob and I even had a little shuffle that went a long with it. Funny times I tell ya'...funny times indeed.

During this movie, along with most other films, whenever I'd pause it to take a short break, I'd walk away from it with that tune in my head. The tune is as free flowing as that old' "Let's All Go To The Lobby" jingle from way back...Remember that one?

Nothing major, but it's a frequent thought in my head, and I wanted to let some of you in :)