Tempt neither Fate nor the Gods:
Thought for the Day:
In our civilization, and under our republican form of government, intelligence is so highly honored that it is rewarded by exemption from the cares of office.
Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary US author & satirist (1842 - 1914)
Plans for the Weekend:
I was recently asked to take a group of inter-city Cub Scouts on a camping expedition. Since my leg is fucked up and I am not into sweating my ass off in this heat, or having to shit in a hole I myself had to dig, while on crutches. I decided to give these young scouts a more practical experience.
I am taking them on an inter-city camping trip. Yes, dear reader something they can use, skills that will last a lifetime. I rounded up several instructors from our local homeless shelters to lend their years of experience in urban survival and foraging skills. All I had to do to get them to volunteer was buy them a few bottles of Thunderbird.
These children will learn the arts of pan-handling, dumpster diving, cardboard box shelter building, and of course living under bridges and underpasses. Best, of all, I borrowed an RV, so that I can stay in comfort.
(Parents: One of the many skills your child will learn during this weekends exciting inter-city camping and jamboree will be the fine art of shopping cart cooking and road kill grilling. Cat is good if cooked right and your hungry enough)
When these children become men and lose their jobs during corporate cut-backs, their home and car, their wives and children leave them and/or they become mentally ill-alcoholics, they will have me to thank for the training that will allow them to survive on the angry streets of America. You know me, just doing my part.
On another note:
When I was a child, my parents wouldn’t let me join the Cub/Boy Scouts. I remember being so mad when I was seven when all the other kids got to wear those spiffy uniforms,
on Wednesdays.
My mother and father said that the Scouts were a fascist organization and that they were going to be damned if they let their child; 
wear uniforms, recite oaths, and practice paramilitary skills, under the auspices of group think encouraging, middle aged men. So, I guess my volunteer work this weekend is also an effort to recapture my lost youth, with out having to break a sweat or shit in the woods.
A Brief Re-Cap of the Fun and Festivities for No-Love Thursday Past:
Promptly at 4:00pm I was joined at my favorite bar by another founding member of the Secret Order of No-Love Thursday Mutual Aid Society, Pastor Bob. Which was good because I needed his advice on a few things. Now, one thing I do have to give old Pastor Bob is he does know the good book.
Yes, I had a spiritual question. Sadly, Pastor Bob did not give me the answer I was looking for (protestants, they can be a bit of a downer). However in his defense his advise was right on the money, which in a nut shell was tempt not fate nor the Gods, both things I seem to have made a life style out of. Pastor Bob, left at 5 in a effort to appease Mrs. Pastor Bob, who was less the pleased that he was attending a Lodge Meeting.
Soon after his departure, I was joined by M. Chamberlain (Newspaper man) who in his ceremonial role as Lodge leader, called the meeting to order. After voting on the minutes and conducting new business, the meeting was ended, and the drinking began in earnest. This all transpired in 7 minutes. It was about this time the Monsieur joined out merry band, after a bit I posed the same question to him that I had asked Pastor Bob. Its moments like that that makes me glad I am a Catholic; the Monsieur’s reply to my question of existential personal strife was “life is not an all or nothing game”. That’s it.
Well, anyway, I ended up on a tour of working men’s bars after falling in with a group of trade unionist who needed a ride. Mush to my surprise, I drove home (sober) and was in bed by 10:30, later I was joined by my loving bride who insisted on showing me where Dave Mustang had signed her breasts, such is the price of glory. We all have our crosses to bare.
Your Drinks for the Weekend:
Cranberry West-Hausomatic Recipe
Drink Ingredients:
1 Part Sour Mix
1 Splash Lemon Lime soda
2 Parts Black Haus Blackberry Schnappps
1 Part Capt. Morgan’s spiced Rum
1 Part Cranberry juice
Instruction:
Pour over ice shake and serve.
Stinking-Sweaty Goat's Ass Recipe
Drink Ingredients:
12 drops Tabasco sauce
2 shots Tequila
Dash of Rose’s Lime Juice
1/4 shot Cream or milk
Instruction:
Pour in tequila first and top off with milk or cream. Then, add 12 drops Tabasco.
Your Phrase(s) for the Weekend:
“People Juice”:
1) The sticky slimy residue left on hand rails, poles and windows in public places. Often found on public transportation such as buses subways, or summertime amusement parks.
Example: I lost my balance on the subway and when I grabbed the pole, it was covered in people juice.
“beat the breaks off”:
1) East St Louis slang phrase for “whooping somebody’s ass”.
2)To have sexual intercourse in an aggressive and hard manner.
Example:
1) JQP beat the breaks off that weak mother-fucker.
2) Baby-Girl, you know I will be the breaks off your fine tight ass.
(To get your extra-credit points you must use both of these 4 times in conversation with friends and family this weekend)
Your French Phrase for the Weekend:
"Long live Algeria"
"Vive l'Algerie" (vee - ve lal - zhe - ree)
This is best used by yelling it on crowded trains. You are sure to get noticed.
Today’s Bill:
"Is this a dagger which I see before me..."
--From Macbeth (II, i, 33)
Quote of the Day:
I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this, and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me.
Dave Barry US columnist & humorist (1947 - )
I remain, much like the inch worm the measures your existence:
JQP esq.
In our civilization, and under our republican form of government, intelligence is so highly honored that it is rewarded by exemption from the cares of office.
Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary US author & satirist (1842 - 1914)
Plans for the Weekend:
I was recently asked to take a group of inter-city Cub Scouts on a camping expedition. Since my leg is fucked up and I am not into sweating my ass off in this heat, or having to shit in a hole I myself had to dig, while on crutches. I decided to give these young scouts a more practical experience.
I am taking them on an inter-city camping trip. Yes, dear reader something they can use, skills that will last a lifetime. I rounded up several instructors from our local homeless shelters to lend their years of experience in urban survival and foraging skills. All I had to do to get them to volunteer was buy them a few bottles of Thunderbird.
These children will learn the arts of pan-handling, dumpster diving, cardboard box shelter building, and of course living under bridges and underpasses. Best, of all, I borrowed an RV, so that I can stay in comfort.
(Parents: One of the many skills your child will learn during this weekends exciting inter-city camping and jamboree will be the fine art of shopping cart cooking and road kill grilling. Cat is good if cooked right and your hungry enough)
When these children become men and lose their jobs during corporate cut-backs, their home and car, their wives and children leave them and/or they become mentally ill-alcoholics, they will have me to thank for the training that will allow them to survive on the angry streets of America. You know me, just doing my part.
On another note:
When I was a child, my parents wouldn’t let me join the Cub/Boy Scouts. I remember being so mad when I was seven when all the other kids got to wear those spiffy uniforms,
on Wednesdays.
My mother and father said that the Scouts were a fascist organization and that they were going to be damned if they let their child; wear uniforms, recite oaths, and practice paramilitary skills, under the auspices of group think encouraging, middle aged men. So, I guess my volunteer work this weekend is also an effort to recapture my lost youth, with out having to break a sweat or shit in the woods.A Brief Re-Cap of the Fun and Festivities for No-Love Thursday Past:
Promptly at 4:00pm I was joined at my favorite bar by another founding member of the Secret Order of No-Love Thursday Mutual Aid Society, Pastor Bob. Which was good because I needed his advice on a few things. Now, one thing I do have to give old Pastor Bob is he does know the good book.
Yes, I had a spiritual question. Sadly, Pastor Bob did not give me the answer I was looking for (protestants, they can be a bit of a downer). However in his defense his advise was right on the money, which in a nut shell was tempt not fate nor the Gods, both things I seem to have made a life style out of. Pastor Bob, left at 5 in a effort to appease Mrs. Pastor Bob, who was less the pleased that he was attending a Lodge Meeting.
Soon after his departure, I was joined by M. Chamberlain (Newspaper man) who in his ceremonial role as Lodge leader, called the meeting to order. After voting on the minutes and conducting new business, the meeting was ended, and the drinking began in earnest. This all transpired in 7 minutes. It was about this time the Monsieur joined out merry band, after a bit I posed the same question to him that I had asked Pastor Bob. Its moments like that that makes me glad I am a Catholic; the Monsieur’s reply to my question of existential personal strife was “life is not an all or nothing game”. That’s it.
Well, anyway, I ended up on a tour of working men’s bars after falling in with a group of trade unionist who needed a ride. Mush to my surprise, I drove home (sober) and was in bed by 10:30, later I was joined by my loving bride who insisted on showing me where Dave Mustang had signed her breasts, such is the price of glory. We all have our crosses to bare.
Your Drinks for the Weekend:
Cranberry West-Hausomatic Recipe
Drink Ingredients:
1 Part Sour Mix
1 Splash Lemon Lime soda
2 Parts Black Haus Blackberry Schnappps
1 Part Capt. Morgan’s spiced Rum
1 Part Cranberry juice
Instruction:
Pour over ice shake and serve.
Stinking-Sweaty Goat's Ass Recipe
Drink Ingredients:
12 drops Tabasco sauce
2 shots Tequila
Dash of Rose’s Lime Juice
1/4 shot Cream or milk
Instruction:
Pour in tequila first and top off with milk or cream. Then, add 12 drops Tabasco.
Your Phrase(s) for the Weekend:
“People Juice”:
1) The sticky slimy residue left on hand rails, poles and windows in public places. Often found on public transportation such as buses subways, or summertime amusement parks.
Example: I lost my balance on the subway and when I grabbed the pole, it was covered in people juice.
“beat the breaks off”:
1) East St Louis slang phrase for “whooping somebody’s ass”.
2)To have sexual intercourse in an aggressive and hard manner.
Example:
1) JQP beat the breaks off that weak mother-fucker.
2) Baby-Girl, you know I will be the breaks off your fine tight ass.
(To get your extra-credit points you must use both of these 4 times in conversation with friends and family this weekend)
Your French Phrase for the Weekend:
"Long live Algeria"
"Vive l'Algerie" (vee - ve lal - zhe - ree)
This is best used by yelling it on crowded trains. You are sure to get noticed.
Today’s Bill:
"Is this a dagger which I see before me..."
--From Macbeth (II, i, 33)
Quote of the Day:
I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this, and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me.
Dave Barry US columnist & humorist (1947 - )
I remain, much like the inch worm the measures your existence:
JQP esq.
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 4:18 AM
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