Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Freebird Mother Fuckers:


I am on my way:
…to the mountains of Tennessee to attend the marriage of my little sister. I am giving her away (which might be the only chance I get to do this in my life). I will be spending 5 days with extended family in a cabin. This will be the longest time I have spent with them in 22 years. On the plus side I get to wear my kilt and I am friends with several lawyers and bail bondsmen in the area. Magic 8-Ball says there might be a story to tell, or two out of this trip.

bros pic
I was recently asked how I felt the You Tube debate went. Well, my man won. Yes, you heard it here, I am calling it. Now for the format, what fucking bullshit, a fucking snowman? A song? A bunch of dumb shit questions?

Fucking hell, I see why we lget our asses kicked in elections now. The fucking screeners for that thing should have their asses kicked; they had the chance to make it a real open forum for we the people to ask the questions that could have given us a better idea of who can fix the fucking mess the ruling junta has left us in. Instead they give us entertainment, to much Daily Show and not enough News Hour.

So, all my best from Sky Harbor on my way to Atlanta, then to Knoxville….


Wednesday, July 18, 2007

On Male Public Restroom Behavior:

thats my boy
(Enough to make any father proud.)

#1 and #2:
You know, I have come to the realization that every state and every place of employment has its own male bathroom rules and/or behavior. I would like to share a few of my observations with you the reader.

First off let me start by saying that I come from a self flow observation and culture. When I urinate, I look where I am aiming and keep my head down, I tend not to be a chatty person when peeing and like to finish the business at hand and move on.

Now, in South Carolina folks tend to want to chat you up while pissing. Which I find awkward, seeing that I don’t like to open my mouth in a public bathroom and cant stand the thought of the great unwashed’s poop germs getting on me. To the point I will breathe through my shirt if someone has spoiled the air with what ever partially digested food products they have ingested and eliminated.

In the North, you can’t go to a public restroom without running into some poor fellow in some far stall grunting like a caveman attempting to make fire. I often wonder if these poor souls eat whole chickens and/or hams and are surprised when in comes time to void themselves, or if they are trying to push a football throw a garden hose. Please note, that since Jr. High, I have found any rest room noise while at times unavoidable not to be actively encouraged.

Now in Arizona, one thing I have noticed is that men will walk into a stall to pee. Yes, standing up, with the door closed and locked and just peeing, this being done with numerous urinals available.

However, if you run into anyone in a men’s restroom you don’t speak you nod, the Black Man/ Mexican Man’s nod and no it doesn’t matter what your racial makeup might be, Hell I just ran into our Indian IT guy and got the nod.

For those of you who don’t know the Black man/ Mexican Man’s nod it a nod up, vs. a nod down, more commonly seen among white insurance sales men you encounter on any Midwestern street, including the obligatory smile on their face. In Arizona, one should never have a smile on their face when greeting another in a public rest room. Just a bad-assed nod up.

These are some of the things that trouble me, I welcome you the reader to share your thoughts and/or observations.


Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Your Recipe for the Week:

(Tina, from over at the road house by the Res. just loves these little bastards!)

Arizona Scotch Eggs (oven)

1 pound spicy pork or Italian sausage
Fine cornmeal
8 plain or pickled hard-cooked eggs**
1/3 cup cornmeal
1 egg, beaten
Cheyenne powder (3 tsp)
Garlic powder (1 tsp)
Black pepper (1 tsp)

Divide sausage into 8 (2-ounce) portions. On lightly crumb-sprinkled surface, pat out each portion to about 1/8-inch thickness. Wrap completely around 1 of the hard-cooked eggs, pressing edges together to seal. Repeat with remaining sausage and hard-cooked eggs. Roll sausage-coated eggs in crumbs and spices then dip in beaten egg. Place on baking sheet and bake in preheated 375 F oven until lightly browned, about 38 minutes.

** To pickle, drain 1 can (16 oz.) pickled hot peppers, reserving juice. Set peppers aside for another use. In medium saucepan, combine reserved pepper juice, 1 3/4 cups white vinegar, 1/2 cup sugar, 1 1/2 tablespoons whole allspice and 3 cloves of garlic, halved. 4 tbl of Tabasco. Bring to boiling, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Reduce heat and simmer 5 minutes. Arrange 8 hard-cooked eggs in 1-quart jar with tight-fitting lid. Pour hot mixture over eggs. Cover tightly. Store in cool place. Refrigerate to blend flavors, at least several days or up to several weeks. After opening, refrigerate and use within 1 week.

Serve with sliced tomatoes, onions, cheese, corn on the cob, flat bread and beer (I use Sol)… lots of beer. It’s a big hit with my multi-ethnic fan base here in the Great American Southwest.



Monday, July 16, 2007

I won a Major Award, from a well respected Blogger:

Mr. T can save John McCain’s Campaign:


All the better with a Mini-T


Saturday, July 14, 2007

Bastille Day:

a word if you will

I haven’t really had anything to say for the past few weeks as a result I welcome your suggestions and/or questions.


Thursday, July 12, 2007

A Photographic Tour of Hidden Culinary Delights from the Bible Belt:









Monday, July 02, 2007

The Merry Month of June:

grandma beach
(Your GMILF for the Day)

Since it’s all about me, a list of “I’s”:

I went to Jerome, AZ which is described as a “biker town with an artist problem”.

I bought 9 books, which always makes me happy.

I got a shitty hair cut for 8 dollars.

I spent several days in the close company of Federal Agents.

I have been cooking a lot of food from the Med. Region, plus the normal US summer food.

I got drunk with a 7 foot tall mutant biker who had a winner dog that road around on his shoulder.

I turned 40 and noticed gray hairs on my back.

I wrote two grants.

I worked on my deep dark Jamaican tan.

I spent every free moment on weekends in the pool drinking, mojitos.

I spent 14 days with Cousin Molly, whose Detroit charm and skill sets are legionary.

I listened to all the works of Ms. Etta James back to back very loudly, in reply to next-doors impromptu rap retrospective of the early 21st century.

I got invited to join the Indian Am-Vets; I guess they are going for diversity.

I went to a bluegrass festival one weekend and a national rodeo the next in Prescott, AZ.

I called into work 3 times during the month, all related to transportation issues.

I took a nice 6 mile walk in the desert (114 degrees) wearing a suit.

I took notice that we lost another 100 of our finest during the month of June.

I missed my family and friends.

I made some new friends.

I really enjoyed mass yesterday, good readings.

This ends transmission.