Friday, June 27, 2008

On Rap, Convenience Stores and Nacogdoches:

(I myself make it a point to support free market economies nationwide.)

Thought for the Day:
The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius.
Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist, 1891

On rap, the American educational system and inner-city convenience stores:
Since my much heralded return to the bread basket of this great nation, I have noticed a rather inconsequential but noticeable change in either the hearing capabilities and/or reading levels of those I do business with (convenience stores, clergy, law officers, dry cleaners & prostitutes), or I have developed a heavy accent or perhaps a lisp.

I seems that daily in my interactions with others and I am required to use my name, they inevitably ask me “ummm, how do you spell that?” I reply, “Lets see, John Q. Public”. “How?” in reply I say “J-O-H-N Q. P-U-B-L-I-C”, you know like get a fucking clue, sound it out, buy a fucking vowel. It’s not that damn hard.

I could understand if my name we say: Hiram Xavier Fitzpatick-Carpstinkbutski (which by the way is the nom de guerre I use when traveling in Northwest Asia and Ohio, but that’s a story for another time).

Ok, the first 30 times it was no big deal, but now I am forced to ponder…is there something bigger going on and this morning dear reader, I can only come to the following, I live in the ghetto, and first hand I am able to observe the effects of loud bass driven rap in the closed confines of automobiles.

Hell, they rattle the fine china tea set I have on my Louis the VII buffet in the main hall of the manor house when they drive by. Thus, the first cause is voluntary hearing loss, I am talking like being a roady for Van Halen in the 80’s hearing loss.

Secondly, I would like to site the educational system, they coddle these kids today (think grumpy old man) when I was in school, from kindergarten on, they ran a tight ship. If you didn’t know your shit, you my friend were fucked. I spent most recesses in the classroom learning how to tie my shoes, spell, read a clock, and divide fractions (yes, high school sucked for me). But thanks to the schools iron handed discipline and frequent use of corporal punishment I now can do two of those four previously mentioned tasks.

I know it can’t be me.

Your Drink for the Week:
tray guy

Kokomo Joe Recipe
1 oz Banana Liqueur
1 oz White Rum
½ oz Cheap vodka
5 oz Orange Juice
3 oz Pina Colada Mix

Combine ingredients with one cup of crushed ice in a blender. Blend until smooth. Pour into a hurricane glass, garnish with a slice of orange, and serve. I had 9 of these little wonders one morning at the Hip-Hugger in Kokomo, Indiana. I would recommend both the strip club and the drink.

Nacogdoches Dave Cocktail Recipe
2 oz Dark Eyes Vodka
1 oz Blue Curacao
1 oz Peach Schnapps
5 oz Sunny Delight

Pour ingredients into a highball glass, stir, and serve. Texan’s love their sweet drinks and I love this shit, but after 12 or so I want to puke my asshole up. Warning: do not chase this with white wine and shots of Jaeger.

Today’s Bill:
Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger
constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
garnish'd and deck'd in modest compliment,
not working with the eye without the ear,
and but in purged judgement trusting neither?
Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem.
William Shakespeare

Quote of the Day:Temptation rarely comes in working hours. It is in their leisure time that men are made or marred.
W. N. Taylor

I remain, standing naked in the darkened corner of your soul, playing canasta with your subconscious:

JQP esq.