Red Sox Chip Update:

In a rather dull ceremony the unlucky Red Sox poker chip was buried.

(Actually it was dropped in a hole where once stood a fence post)

Nobody really cared.

No food was served.

It probably wont have any real impact on the pennant race.

Go Celtics!

Nhoj Cram Dnamats

So I was cleaning under my counter two weeks ago and I found a Red Sox poker chip.

I put it on a case behind the counter.

What happened?

The Red Sox won six games in a row!

On the road!

They were on fire! They were inching towards .500 after a bad start.

My friends...I found a lucky Red Sox poker chip and I was in control of the Red Sox destiny for 2012!

I thought I'd share this lucky chip with a friend.

Once the lucky poker chip passed hands it became the unlucky Red Sox poker chip!!

I threw the 2012 season down the toilet!

Why oh why oh why did I give it away!!!?????

But the gods looked down at me.

The Red Sox poker chip found it's way BACK to me.

It's sitting in my home.

But still bringing bad luck to my fading Red Sox.

What to do, what to do? (real men should never say 'what to do, what to do?')

I'll tell you what I'm gonna do....I'm gonna bury that motherfucker in my front yard.

Tomorrow. 5/7/12

Maybe around 9- 9:30.

It will be a somber ceremony.

I doubt you can make it to my front yard tomorrow so do me a favor...

Around 9:00am start chanting NHOJ CRAM DNAMATS slowly.

Nhoj.

Cram.

Dnamats.

and repeat.

Nhoj Cram Dnamats.

Nhoj Cram Dnamats.

Nhoj Cram Dnamats.

It's really the only way to save the season.

Nhoj. Cram. Dnamats.



Search Engine Does My Thinking.

You've used a search engine before, correct?

You know how sometimes you type in a few letters and it auto-suggests things?

It drives me nuts.

 I'm happy to just type in Jack in the Box tacos or Cialis or whatever it is I'm searching.

(Cialis is funnier in a joke than Viagra is)

So just a few minutes ago I typed in the letters FA

And up came this:

fried filled tortillafamu hazing deathfine grain leatherfamous canalfacebookfacebook


Unfortunately that isn't what I was looking for.

ROAR!

So last night I was watching a show with Rob Lowe (actually it was a show starring Rob Lowe)....I was watching with Wifey.

At one point I turned to Wifey and said: "He has great hair!"

After the show was over I went back to reading 50 Shades of Grey.

Oh, it's twue. It's twue. It's twue, it's twue!

Adorable!

(Thanks Maddog)

IHOP

So yesterday I went out for breakfast.

Just a local place, not The International House of Pancakes.

 As I ate I thought about The International House of Pancakes.

A house.

Of pancakes.

Think about that for a second.

A house...of PANCAKES!!

An international house.

Of pancakes.

You're hearing this through my grapevine.

This man came in yesterday wearing a nice grey suit.

Good shoes.

Mid-late 50s.

Looked like an insurance guy.

Maybe an accountant.

He looked much older than his years.

Beat down from decades of doing a mundane job.

He bought some comics (for himself? his kids? grandkids?)

I tried a little small talk....nothing.

Shark eyes.

No twinkle at all.

What is this guys life like?

Nagging wife?

Big mortgage?

Crappy kids?

It is Hell, I assume.

Then a Creedence Clearwater song came on the radio.

I Heard It Through The Grapevine.

His eyes came alive.

Just a little.

His finger tapped his thigh.

I noticed.

ME: "I love Creedence!"

HIM: "Me too! I never hear them anymore."

(I thought...Why not? I hear them every day)

ME: "1970 was a great year. Creedence, comic books..."

HIM: "What's that other song he did...I like that. The baseball one."

ME: "Centerfield."

---

Point of the story?

I have no idea. Creedence perked up a day.

I actually kept my big mouth shut.

A young kid comes into the store.

Looks around.

Comes up to the counter.

Here is the conversation:

KID: "I have a roll of quarters in my pocket."

ME: ::::silence:::

KID: "I'll pay with these dollars."

ME: "Thank you."

Shenanigans!

TIME: Around 11:00 pm.

PLACE: Darkened room upstairs.

THE PLAYERS: Me and Wifey. (Or is that Wifey and I?)

SCENARIO: I started clowning around about something.


CONVERSATION THAT FOLLOWED:

WIFEY: "I'm not in the mood for your clowning!"

ME: "Okay."

----

(Wifey was hiding beside the bureau when she told me that)

My trip to the bank

BANK MANAGER TO EVERYONE IN BANK: "Did anybody leave this folder here?"

ME: "Is there any money in it?"

Ask Rodney King again!

Dear Rodney King,

I'm thinking of building a house. Should I use wood or brick?

Thank you,
Trayvon


---

Dear Trayvon,

Usually I would say brick, but for you I suggest wood. It looks nicer.

Good luck and have a great life!
Rodney King

I be digging.

A nice rational post about Trayvon

I've been reading a lot about the black kid and the pinkish/brownish Jewish guy who shot him.

I'm trying to see both sides of this story.

I finally came across this on a Facebook post. (I changed the address)

'BITCH FUCK DA MEDIA N U 2 I LOOK SUSPECIOUS ERR DAY SINCE DAT HAPPEN N IM BLACK WIT A HOODIE ON N DARE N.EBODY APPROACH ME IM GVEN HEAD SHOTS BITCH DO U WANT 1 CUM C ME ***** S. COTTAGE GROVE WE ALL SUITED N BOOTED'

---

So let's translate this:

The media is not to be trusted. African-American youth sometimes look suspicious because they dress in cultural garb. If you think you would like to argue with me in person feel free to come to my house. I have a gun and it is loaded with bullets. I might possibly shoot you in the head.



---

Suggested Band Names

As you probably heard, me and The Hoag have formed a band.

I came up with BOO.

Cake thinks we should be called YOU SUCK.

If it's one of those names the fans will be chanting our name at every gig*

Hoag wants to call it RidingBikes.

Fans probably won't chant that.

---

* job, concert.

My band

So last night on my way home I decided to start a band.

So I texted Hoag.

ME: "I'm starting a band....do you want to be my singer?"

HOAG: "Yes."

ME: "Cool, I'll book some gigs."


---

(us folks in Rock N Roll call jobs 'gigs')

Pretend the motorcycle is my car.

So last night Wifey and I go out to shop for a painting.

We find said painting.

Said painting is large.

Said painting doesn't fit in my back seat.

Said painting doesn't fit in my trunk.

I'm about solutions.

I tell Wifey to drive as I get in back seat.

Window down. Me facing the side of road holding said painting.

Said painting is just canvas and frame.

Said painting is not heavy.

Said painting flaps and goes airborne at around 25 miles an hour.

Wifey is amused as she goes about 28 miles an hour.

Cars behind us not amused.

Every so often Wifey has to pull over to the side of the road to let cars pass.

Did I mention it was cold out last night?

My hands are starting to cramp up.

"PULL OVER!"

I put gloves on.

Wifey is laughing at me. At the situation.

Heavy-footed Wildebeast likes to go fast.

Heavy-footed Wildebeast thinks it's funny when painting starts Orville-Wrighting down Lyman steeet.

"SLOW DOWN!"

Painting settles back down agaisnt car.

Hand cramping.

My neck kinda hurts from the odd angle I'm sitting.

I feel foolish.

The road we are on has more curves than Jayne Mansfield.

The painting keeps taking flight.

Somehow we make it home without me dropping the painting.

SO TO SUM UP:
You thought for sure this was gonna end with me dropping the painting, din'tcha?

NEW FEATURE: Ask Rodney King!

Dear Rodney,

How do I avoid trouble when I walk through white neighborhoods?

Thank you,
Trayvon


---

Dear Trayvon,

Always use caution when visting white neighborhoods. Try to blend in. Wear a hoodie so you don't stand out.

Best of luck,
Rodney King