Half-Written Drunken Post From Last Night

“Bang Records” – he he, that’s funny.


I’ve got to put up another post to get the gal’s butt of the top of my blog. I enjoy it. Lots of guys I know enjoy it. Even a couple of gals I know enjoy it. But some of you don’t, so damn it to hell cause I am a nice guy I have to move it down a bit.

But what to put up here?

Besides Neil up above that is.

And below here.

Cause I am a big Neil fan.

In a non-ghey way, you understand,

Took loving wife to see him last year and had a great time.

A even better time after since she threw her bra at him and I didn’t have to waste time removing it later on.

And not to brag or anything but the D-cups almost gave him a concussion.

But I digress.

What to post about was the issue.

Of course posting about my wife’s D-cups might just get me booted out of the house and then I would be a . . .

At least for a bit.

I got nothing.

Seriously, there was like a 40 minute break between “At least for a bit” and “I got nothing” while I listened to music on YouTube, Facebooked, watched We Were Soldiers, and drank three beers.

Let me think.

Nope, got nothing.  Certainly nothing as interesting as those guys/gals over at Three Donia who really do annoy me with all their expertise in every fricken subject in the world. Who knows all that shit, I ask you? Seriously, half the time I have to Google what they are talking about just to comment.

Of course if I were Theo, I would have this whole bevy of beautiful women, many of who seem to fall asleep in very sexy proses right about the time the sun is setting on Great Britain every day. How the hell do they manage to schedule that?

Added This Morning:

This seemed funny last night. As did much of what I posted on Facebook. Thank God for the “Remove” button there is all I have to say. And I’m sure I was heading somewhere here. Somewhere quite interesting and profound. But for the life of me I can’t think of where it was.

Or maybe, on reading this post a few times this morning, I was going to go on some virtual tour of the blogs I read, commenting on each in a very funny way.

Whew. Thank God I lost interest or I might have offended who knows how many bloggers.

Anyway, it served it’s purpose . . . no more woman’s butt on the top of the blog.  Now you have to scroll down about to see it.

But it’s worth the work, trust me.


By The Way

There is a Reluctant Optimist on Facebook and it ain’t me. Not even close. Not to dis the guy or anything, but I’ve got a full head of hair, no beard, no glasses, and I don’t drink coffee or wear plaid shirts. I’m also not a writer. Not even close to being one. And he may be a good writer so I don’t want to ruin his rep.

Reason I mention it is because I’ve gotten a few hits from visitors that are showing Facebook searches and I want to stop the confusion before it begins.

Thanks for listening, now please go do something productive.

I’m Not Jewish

So I have no clue as to whether it’s politically incorrect or in bad taste that I find this video of an Auschwitz survivor and his grandchildren “dancing on Hitler’s face” touching and uplifting and even a little amusing (come on, the old guy getting-down has to make you smile).

But I do.

Personal note, I visited Dachau many years ago and thinking back on it now a better place for a celebratory dance of survival to mock Hitler and his Nazi criminals does not exist. Except for Auschwitz, Sobibor, Treblinka, and the rest.


I guess the company that owned the song made them take the video down.  Assholes.

I Was Told To Post Something

By Vicki, because she was tired of the big-boobed woman at the top of my blog.  She’s right of course, I did need to move her down a bit (pun intended) and post about something more topical and relevant.

So here it is . . . a visual representation of how cool it is to have the right to own a gun and how cool it is that the Supreme Court affirmed that right.

Past that, I’ve just been very busy and very distracted with other things to post. I’m not sure anyone still reads me anyway, but to those who do . . . damn, get a life folks, I haven’t been here in over a month and you STILL have time to check this stupid blog out now and then? Don’t you have something better to do? Root canal? Listen to another one of Barry’s speeches? Clean tar balls off  your bikini-clad butts?

No, seriously, I will try to do better and I miss you guys and gals.

Mostly the gals, though.

H/T to Theo for the photo naturally. And I am pretty sure they are natural.

Hello? Hello? Anyone Still Out There?

No?  Can’t say I blame you.  I am not really into blogging these days and frankly I do it so fricken badly it’s probably a kindness to the world to stop.  And, no, I have nothing to post now.  Except that I finally bought me a motorcycle.

It’s a Kawasaki Vulcan 500 LTD.  Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s not a BIG bike.

Not a manly bike.

Well . . . tough. It’s as big a bike as I wanted to start with.  It’s as fast as any 650 and 750 out there and can keep up with the 800s so deal with it.   And it didn’t cost me an arm and a leg, either.

Yeah, I will probably want to trade-up in a few months but that’s cool cause my sister in law already wants to buy it from me.   And if I decide I don’t want to keep on biking it won’t break my bank and will be easy to sell as they are very popular starting bikes.



But the bike is easy to ride and learn on and will haul ass when you want it to, so I can live with it.

Seriously. It is a fun ride.  And once I actually figure out what the hell I am doing it will be even funner (yeah I know that’s not a word – deal with that, too).

Past that, I got nothing.   I am working my big ass off and hoping I can retire before most of America decides it’s time to lynch federal employees.

Yeah, I’m feelin’ that love.

Understandable, yes, but just know if you come for me I plan on fighting back and I am not unarmed.

Just joking.


And Some Wonder Why I Want A Motorcycle

Silly people. I’m still looking for the right one by the way. But you’d be surprised how hard it is to find one just like this. Girl and all.

Via Theo, of course.

It’s Decided

My youngest son, age 14, was promoted to 1st Degree Black Belt (decided) in Tae Kwon Do tonight. It took 39 months of hard work but he earned it. All three of us – me, loving wife, and him – are happy he won’t have to test again for at least one year when he is eligible to test for 2nd Degree. Him because it is stressful and us because testing gets expensive.

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