Thursday, January 31, 2008

The Alarm Went off at…

7:00 am.

7:07 am.

7:14 am.

7:28 am.

My alarm went off at 7:45 but of course I was awake already. Nothing like being woken up 45 minutes before you need to get up.

She changed it this morning. I didn’t hear a damn thing till my alarm went off at 7:45.

“Yeah, this isn’t working. Now I’m going to be late for work.”

Great, back to losing 45 minutes of sleep every day.

La Casa

Shit ain't gettin' any cleaner than that.

Had an appraiser swing by on Wednesday, refinance the crib, save $100 a month. Renter fixed the basement to make it all pretty and all.

Monday, January 28, 2008

57 Degree Change?

On Monday it was 53 degrees here in good 'ol Milwaukee. Tuesday night it's supposed to get down to -4. Seriously here people...

Greg Paulus

I was watching the Duke/Virginia Tech game last week. One of the Virginia Tech students was holding a sign in the stands.


This my friends is Greg Paulus.


Sunday, January 27, 2008

I Get No Respect

Rodney Dangerfield made a living off of his "I get no respect" spiel. Rodney was pretty cool. I never met the man but I absolutely loved his movies.

I found this bit on FOX Sports:

Portrayed by Randy Moss as a woman making a money grab against him, Rachelle Washington came out on the defensive Thursday.

A statement from her attorney, David McGill, says "she refuses to be further disrespected by him."

You know how people have the "gay-dar"? Well, I have a special little gift of my own. Without even knowing either of the above people, I can pretty much guarantee that they are both African American. Seriously, when was the last time you saw two white girls arguing and saying, "You don't come into the club and disrespect me in front of all of my friends like that! Who do you think you are disrespecting me?" Yeah, never, that's what I thought.

I thought all the black athletes were into the hot white chicks? Maybe Randy should take some dating advice from Tom Brady. I know Tom is white but he's made some pretty decent choices when you look at the women he's slept with. Don't just don't go and ask Jason Kidd for any advice. You don't need all the allegations of abuse and assault.

And I just saw a preview for Flavor Flav's new season of Flavor of Love. 30 second preview and I swear I heard either the words "disrespect" or "respect" at least three times. Not shitting you.

I'm not really good about making black/white jokes. I try, but you know there's a boundary that you don't want to cross over. I just make my observations.

I promise to get some stories about the weekend up soon. It will probably start with something like "There were these three girls, all well over 300 lbs, and all were eying me up." Yeah dude, I felt like a pimp.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

The Boot

Like him or not, you gotta appreciate what Bill Belichick has done to stir a media frenzy with Tom Brady and the infamous boot. That's pretty much all the reporters are talking about. With Brady suspiciously unavailable in the locker room all the other players are coming up with humorous responses to questions about their star quarterback. That's one way to alleviate any pressure in their quest to go 19-0.

I guarantee you Roger Goodell has made a phone call or two to the Patriot's front office.

After the Patriots win it all Tom and Bill will be laughing their asses off as they tell the media the whole story.

Friday, January 25, 2008

A Little Motivation

That, my friends, is one ripped bitch. I figured I’d throw a little motivation out there for those of you who actually do like to go to the gym. I came across Jason Ferruggia’s blog a while ago. Rob the Bouncer had a link on his Clublife blog. Check out Jason’s recent post, “How to Build Muscle Fast.” I think you’ll find his work informative and useful.

Midnight Romance

I almost died last night. My arm was ready to fall off. My lungs were burning. I was sweating and convulsing. I almost lost an appendage.

Why I felt the need to whack off at midnight last night after a goodly amount of drinking I’ll never know. I will never do that again. (wink, wink)

Thursday, January 24, 2008

MLK Day - Yeah!!!

Guess what my family had on MLK day.

Monday, January 21, 2008

The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting

The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting









Ok, so you want to start lifting weights. You may not want to get huge, you may just want to get in shape, but the bottom line is you want results. Wait, what’s that? You think you have to give up beer in order to get in shape? You think you have to give up partying and watch the big game at home instead of at the bar with your friends? Nonsense! Are you crazy?

I’m going to let you in on a little secret here…

How many times have you heard that line before when the so-called “experts” are trying to sell you something? The stuff I’m going to tell you isn’t any big secret. Hell, if you walked up to me in the gym I’d gladly share everything with you. There are no big secrets when it comes to weightlifting, but there are wrong ways and right ways to go about it. The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting will tell you what has worked for me and many others. I didn’t pick these ideas out of a muscle or fitness magazine; I’ve asked people, big people, what they do and then test it out on myself. Not surprisingly the different variations that I hear from these people all consist of one common goal: lift heavy. Big, compound movements are what I’ve been told produce the results. I’ve tried it and it works. I wish I had known more about this when I was in college instead of at age 30. I wish I had known more about women back then too, but that’s another topic.


Any kind of weightlifting requires some level of commitment from the lifter. Being a beer drinker, you also have to maintain your level of commitment to drinking. Who wants to cut down or quit drinking in order to get big? Not me, that’s for sure. The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting doesn’t ask for a huge level of commitment from you. Actually, it asks for the bare minimum. Trust me, I’m lazy, I know what bare minimum means. I live bare minimum every day. When it snows outside most people shovel their sidewalks completely clean; the path I make is a shovel’s width wide. Lazy. Those guys who go to the gym at 8:00 at night and don’t leave till the gym closes are freaking nuts. While they’re flexing their arms in the mirror and checking out the women in the tight shorts you’re in a bar hitting on the women in the tight shorts getting them drunk with countless shots of tequila. While those dudes are on the treadmill getting some cardio in you’re at home in bed with the drunk chick(s) getting your cardio in. Hmm, which would you rather do? The weightlifting program in front of you only requires 40 minutes a day, four days a week. But remember, I did say this was the bare minimum; any less time won’t produce the desired results. This program requires 160 minutes from you each week. That’s a little over two and a half hours, less than the amount of time it takes to watch a football game. Two and a half hours a week to get big. That’s not asking a whole lot if you ask me.

Want to know something even better? It’s possible to cheat on the bare minimum commitment level but only under certain circumstances. Since this guide basically consists of three workouts you can get by with just three visits to the gym in the event of a holiday. For example, the week of Thanksgiving, hit the gym Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday and you’re clear for the weekend. Don’t even feel guilty about missing that fourth workout; it’s a freaking holiday, enjoy it. Just make sure that you get four in during regular weeks.

I’m also going to need your lunch hour. Lifting weights during your lunch hour is the best possible time for the person who partakes in beer drinking related activities. Try lifting weights in the morning. After a good night of drinking I assure you won’t be up to the task. Lifting weights after work just cuts into your beer drinking time. Trust me, I’ve tried all three. In the mornings you risk a heart attack and at night you risk missing the big game that’s on TV. Using your lunch hour eliminates both of those scenarios and breaks up your workday nicely.


The way I see it there are two different kinds of attitudes in any weight room. You have the guy in the corner doing three sets of dumbbell curls with 25 lbs, ten reps each. You have the guy on the bench press who throws a 45 lb plate on each side and never changes it. You have the guy who does a set of sit-ups between every set. You don’t want to be that guy. No, if you want to get big you have to push yourself; you can’t just go through the motions. How are you going to get big doing 25 lb dumbbell curls? Hell, my sister can do that! If you don’t change the weight on the bench press you might as well not even do it. Through some weight on there, actually challenge your body. The attitude that you need every time you go to the gym is that you’re going to lift more than you did the previous time.

Here’s the thing: we’re looking for sets of 6-8 reps with as much weight as you can handle. Start off with a weight that you can do 10-11 times for a warm up set (note: we only do a warm up set for the first exercise of the day); after that start adding the weight. For example, if you can do 11 reps on the lat pull down machine with 180 lbs, drop the pin down to 200 lbs or 210 lbs and go at it. If you can do 8 reps, great, leave the pin there for your next set. If you get 6 reps on the next set take 10 lbs off and use that next. Continue to lower the weight as your body fatigues, keeping within the 6-8 rep range. After the lat pull downs switch to the standard pull up (still on the machine). Typically you can do more on the pull up than the lat pull down so drop the pin again to a heavier weight and work the same process for six sets. By the end of those twelve sets you’re going to feel it in your back, biceps, and forearms – and you still have one back exercise left to do.
The bench press workout is a little different than the back workout. You need to keep the same “lift heavy” attitude but you have to get to that point in a slower manner. The easiest way to explain it is to show you what I do.

1st set – 135 lbs
2nd set – 185 lbs
3rd set – 205 lbs
4th set – 225 lbs
5th set – 235 lbs
6th set – 245 lbs
7th set – 235 lbs
8th set – 225 lbs
9th set – 205 lbs

With this progression you don’t hit the heaviest point till your sixth set. You want to make sure you’re good and warmed up when you have the heavy stuff over your chest. But this doesn’t mean you don’t take the other sets seriously; you’re still trying to pump out as many reps as possible, even if they’re in the 10-15 rep range.

While I wouldn’t recommend this to any weightlifter, I typically don’t use a spotter except for that heavy sixth set. Actually, not many people in the gym I go to ask for spots. They have the bench presses lined up against the walls and in order to get in the spotting position you have to crawl underneath the bar; it’s pretty pathetic. I do nine sets because of this. While I’m sure I could get another rep out with each set if I had a spotter, after nine sets you’re gas tank is pretty much empty as it is; an extra rep here or there wouldn’t make any difference.

The whole point of this is you have to move some weight around. You have to handle as much weight as you can safely complete six reps. Doing three sets of ten reps won’t get you anywhere. What happens when you hit rep number ten? You stop, right? Aiming for a range of 6-8 pushes you mentally to get another rep. If you get five you’re going for six. If you get six you’re going for seven. If you get eight and you’re going for nine you’re probably not using enough weight. Make a mental note to put more weight on for your second or third set the next time you do that body part and move on. Constantly strive for more, both more weight and more reps. Don’t be the guy standing in the corner with the pink dumbbells.

The Workout

The workout I’m going to show you is simple. It has to be simple if you use the “lift heavy” attitude. You’re not going to be doing 20 lb triceps kickbacks. You’re not going to be doing wrist curls. Talk about a waste of time. The Beer Drinkers Guide to Weightlifting incorporates mostly big movements that allow you to use a lot of weight. Using a lot of weight is the only way to get big. Without further ado, here’s the workout.


Dumbbell shoulder presses – 6 sets
Dumbbell side/front combo raises – 3 sets
Dumbbell back raises – 3 sets
Shoulder shrugs – 4 sets


Barbell bench presses – 9 sets
Barbell incline bench presses – 4 sets
Standing triceps extensions – 5 sets


Lat pull downs – 6 sets
Pull ups – 6 sets
Horizontal dumbbell rows – 4 sets
Barbell curls – 5 sets

1 set of sit-ups after each workout

These are your three workouts. Working out four days a week you’re going to hit one of these twice in one week (say Monday and Friday). Normally I don’t like doing a body part more than once a week. On the other hand, six days of rest is just a little too much. Five days of rest is ideal but it’s impossible to design a workout around that unless you’re going to be lifting on the weekends. Weekends aren’t made for lifting weights. Weekends are made for drinking. This is The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting, not The Weightlifting Guide for Beer Drinkers. Beer comes first.

You’ll notice the day with the most sets is the back day with 21 sets. If you are a beer drinker and a smoker you will appreciate the almost two minute time span between sets (40 min / 21 sets). Take your time between sets. You want to be pretty much fully recovered – heart beat and breathing back to normal – before you start your next set. Grab a towel, wipe off, drink some water, do whatever it takes to get you prepared for the next set. Even though two minutes seems like a long time you’ll realize that you need it when you’re lifting heavy weights. Don’t take a newspaper or a magazine in to the weight room with you. If you get caught up in an interesting article it is bound to take away one or two of your sets as you lose track of time while you’re reading.

(I know some of you are asking, “When do you do legs?” I don’t do legs. I know the jokes and stereotypes of the guys in the weight room with huge chests, backs, shoulders and arms and skinny legs but I don’t have much of a choice; I tore the ACL in my left leg six years ago. The funny thing is I didn’t know that I tore it. I was in a pretty bad car accident and broke my leg. They put a rod down the inside of my tibia and repaired the LCL. Six months ago I tore some cartilage in the knee while doing squats and had to go in for surgery. I went in for a follow up and the doctor was showing me pictures of the surgery when she came to one photo, pointed and said, “This is where your ACL should be.” No one had ever told me that I had torn it before that. I always knew the knee was weak, but I just figured that was from the accident and playing basketball every day back in grade school and high school. Now, at age 30, I figured I’ve lived without it for six years, why get it fixed? It’s a horrible operation with at least 12 months of rehab. I’d have to give up my beloved Jeep Wrangler because of the manual transmission. The Wrangler is six years old and has 21,000 miles; I’m not giving that puppy up.

So no, I don’t do legs, but you’re more than welcome to throw a leg day in there as a fourth workout if you want (squats are your best option). Just please be careful.)


What’s the number one reason why people give up on working out? You know how people make New Years resolutions and go to the gym for three months and then quit in April? The increase in the number of people in the gym who don’t know what the fuck they’re doing really pisses me off. Working out in and of itself isn’t a bad thing; it can actually be addicting. The “work” you’re doing in the gym doesn’t really feel like work if you’re doing the right things and you’re seeing results. You can’t see results if you’re wearing a XXXL t-shirt. Go to Wal-Mart. They have tank tops for $3. Buy a bunch.

The reason most people quit any given workout is because they don’t see any results. Why would anyone wander around a weight room for an hour a day if they didn’t see results? I promise you The Beer Drinkers Guide to Weightlifting will not leave you wandering around the weight room. I promise you it will also get you results. You need to wear your new tank tops in the gym to see the results. Flexing in the mirror before you go to bed or when you wake up is gay. Seeing shoulder striations and veins pumping in your arms while you’re working out is totally not gay. Actually watching your biceps contract on a curl when the muscle is filled with blood just motivates you to do another rep. Why do you think they have mirrors in weight rooms? Sure, go ahead, flex a little in the mirror when nobody’s looking. Flexing while you’re in the gym and your muscles are pumped will show you much better results than flexing before you hop in the shower in the morning.

The tank top is essential for lifting weights. Not only will you be able to see results but it will also keep you cooler.

(Side note: if its summer time and you’re doing work outside, be sure to wear your tank top. You don’t want mid-arm tan lines in the weight room.)


I’m not a nutritionist. I can’t tell you what to eat with any scientific studies or reasons. I’m not going to tell you to stay away from carbs or only eat meat. Eat what you want to. In my “special” case, I drink at least 1,500 calories just in beer every night. Every night. Those skinny little rich bitches on The OC or The Hills probably don’t consume that much in three days (if they do I guarantee you they throw it back up). And that 1,500 calories is just beer; it doesn’t include the five meals I eat every day. Who knows what that chili dog from the cafeteria has in it? Have two!

Typically I eat five times a day. 9:00 am, 11:00 am, 1:00 pm, 3:30 pm, and 5:30 pm. The 9:00 “breakfast” is usually just some veggies or a breakfast sandwich from the cafeteria. The 11:00 meal might be a turkey sandwich or something with some meat in it. The 1:00 meal is the pig out meal. After a good workout I suggest you go all out and eat whatever you can. It doesn’t matter what it is, just pound it down. Some people will tell you eat lots of protein after a workout, some will say lots of carbs; I like Nike’s old slogan: Just Do It. The 3:00 meal is more likely just a snack to tide you over till dinner. Once again, with dinner just do whatever the hell you feel like. If you eat at 5:30 you don’t have to worry about all this food sitting in your stomach while you’re sleeping; most of it will have digested by the time you go to bed. I’d rather pig out at 5:30 than skimp and end up pulling out a frozen pizza at 10:30. Eating at 10:30 at night is not ideal.

If you’re a serious beer drinker I don’t think there’s any reason to have a serious diet. The two just don’t go together very well. I have other things to worry about than what I eat. Even if you’re just a six-pack a day drinker, that’s 600 calories (light beer). Don’t adjust your diet around your drinking. Unless your name is Britney Spears, you’ll do fine with this program.


So what are you waiting for? Go out, join a gym that’s close to your place of employment and give it a shot. You’ll be surprised at your ability to lift more weight after just one month. You may not see physical results after just a month, but the strength gains will be undeniable. The actual muscle will come as you start to increase the amount that you’re lifting. It has to. There’s no way around it. Lifting more weight requires more muscle. The two go hand in hand. Trust me, you will not be disappointed.

After a while you can try your own variations of this workout. The second best workout I can think of, if you have good knees, would be chest on Monday, back on Tuesday, legs on Wednesday, shoulders on Thursday, and arms on Friday. My only two problems with this workout are I can’t do the legs and I think there’s too much time off between workouts. With The Beer Drinker’s Guide to Weightlifting you hit one body part twice a week every three weeks. In three weeks you hit each body part four times, not just three. Over the course of a year this starts to add up.
If you take anything away from this I hope it would be to do big, compound exercises with as much weight as you can. Chest, back, and shoulders. Hit ‘em hard, hit ‘em heavy, and hit ‘em with the attitude that you want to get big.

Good luck.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Speaking About Pops

Dad just called. It's -6 degrees here in Milwaukee. Fuck.


People make fun of me all the time. No big deal, I bring it upon myself most of the time.

Everyone knows I don't buy soap. As in soap for the bathroom and shower.

You see, my dad travels a bit; not a whole lot, but more than I do. I have him trained. Each day he's at a hotel he will pocket the bars or soap so the cleaning lady will put new out. Dad then brings these home to me. I haven't boughten soap in over three years.

Dad's recent trip:

Add that to the stash:

I'll be good for a while.

(I know all you women are cringing saying "How can you use that cheap bar soap from a hotel?" Well, I'm a man, a manly man. I don't use lotion, wear stocking hats or gloves, no scarf, and certainly no umbrella. I'm 30! I'm a man! - little reference to Oklahoma State football coach Mike Gundy.)

Friday, January 18, 2008

Veronica Conte

You all know who Victor Conte is, right? The founder of BALCO, the supplement place where Barry Bonds used to go to get his fix? Well, this is Victor's daughter. At first glass yeah, she's cute, down right beautiful even. But then as you take a closer look...

Check out those God damn man hands!!! Tell me she wasn't rubbing "the clear" on Barry's upper inner thigh...

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Stranded/Drama Queen

I’ve had exactly nine beers since Saturday night. While this might not be unusual for your average person, for me, hell, it’s a fucking miracle. There are reasons for this.

Since I did all my Christmas shopping after December 21st all those bills are coming due at the beginning of February. Christmas shopping, the stupid medical bill for the knee surgery, the weekend get-away where I was almost left 150 miles from home without a ride home and a dead cell phone, all that shit’s coming up shortly. So I figured I’d stay home as much as possible this week. And since 2007 ended I’ve had a lot of wrapping up to do at work. I never thought, at age 30, it would come to the point where my knees hurt from running to and from the printer but friends, that’s quite the case. Three days away from the bar saved me at least $20 a night, $60 in total. I’m rolling in the Benjamins now.

The other reason I’ve stayed home lately is the Renter’s become a total drama queen. I haven’t talked to her since Saturday.

The Packer’s played at 3:30 on Saturday. Well, you know me, by 9:00 I pretty much needed a break from the beer. I suggested to the Renter that we go to the arcade and play some stupid video games for an hour or so. I was going to buy.

The arcade is 10 miles from my house. The whole ride there was peaceful and quiet. As soon as we pulled in to the lot she started going off on how it’s cold in the house and how she can’t sleep and what is she paying $400 a month for. Back then I thought I was just being a nice friend offering a place to stay. Back then I told her, before she moved in, that it’s hot in the summer and cold during the winter. It’s my house, that’s how I live. Yeah, my simple, calm statement recalling the conversation from way back when probably wasn’t even heard over her yelling and screaming. I might be an asshole but I sure as hell don’t yell and scream at people. Totally uncalled for.

She told me to go play some games while she called around looking for a place to stay. Yeah, like I’m going to get out of the car after I’ve been left 15 times further away from home before. Her not being able to sleep doesn’t have anything to do with staying up till 5:00 in the morning; no, of course not.

So, in order to avoid any shit like that happening again I’ve just avoided her. I’ve been staying at the parent’s house later than usual just watching TV. I’ve been reading a lot and writing on this stupid blog in my room at night. (Check out Tucker Max if you’re looking for something to read. There were times I had to wipe the tears out of my eyes in order to read since I was laughing so hard.) Pretty much just keeping to myself, whacking off in my room and going to bed at 10:30.

I don’t appreciate being yelled at and you better believe I will never hop in her car again.

Yeah, never again.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

New Year’s Lifters

With the new year and the new school year (remember, I lift at a local college), there are all kinds of fresh faces in the weight room. Unfortunately for me, most of these new faces are that of guys. No, I’m not gay, I just haven’t ventured out to the room with the aerobic machines where the chicks hang out. You tend to stay out of there when you smoke and only have three ligaments in one knee.

I’m not going to gloat and brag and say that I knew everything about weightlifting when I was a freshman. I knew what I was doing, just didn’t know how to group exercises together or how often to do them. Hell, I still don’t know all that much, but I have learned over the years. The students I observe in the weight room must have picked up their routines from a bunch of broads. I’ll watch them do a set of curls, then a set of shoulders, then a set of shrugs, then a set of pull downs, then a set of triceps, just jumping all around the various muscles and exercises. They will never get big this way. Hell, they probably won’t even see any results for over a month, if that; and the results are guaranteed to be minimal. I’d like to give them advice but that just isn’t me. I don’t like telling people what they should do. If somebody asked me what I did I’d gladly tell them; hell, I’d give them two or three different routines to try. I haven’t read a muscle magazine in years. I ask people, big people, what they do and then I try it. Big people didn’t get big just by chance. Sure, genetics has a lot to do with it, but typically big people have found routines that work for them. Even if I’ve found a routine that I like I’ll stick pick another guy’s brain in the weight room. It doesn’t hurt to ask.

And yes, I’m still working on my own little guide to weightlifting. I had some time on Monday night to write more on it since I’ve decided to try to stay out of the bar this week (save a little cash and it’s going to be a busy week at work). It’s just over 3,000 words. I’d like to spend a couple days editing it (you know, with my 8th grade English skills), and maybe get it up on here on Thursday or Friday. I know, 95% of you probably couldn’t give a fuck about weightlifting, but it’s something that I enjoy and would like to share with you. I know the FA will read it, although since he and his wife had a munchkin I doubt he’s had much of a chance to workout lately. Maybe it will inspire him to break out of his pussy shell and get back in the gym. Who knows. Anyway, it’s coming, like it or not.


So I get home on Tuesday night around 8:00, it's pretty much dark out, and somebody has left my garage door open. Great, just fucking great.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Handjob Protest Song

My buddy JD forwarded me this funny clip. Some guy made a song protesting handjobs. Pretty freaking funny.

Handjob Protest Song

Small World

Several days ago I posted the “Teabag” picture. I now know whose balls those were.

Mort, my buddy who set me up with a killer rate on my mortgage, called the FA on Thursday. He asked the FA if he had read the blog lately and if he had seen the sack picture. The FA, being the closet homo that he is, quickly pulled up the blog to check out the balls. It turns out there’s a whole story about the guy’s sack and Mort was there from the get go.

You know how people put disposable cameras on tables at their wedding receptions for the guests to take pictures with? Well, Mort was at this particular wedding at which Dave (dude with the saggy balls) took the camera into the bathroom to take the famous picture. What was supposed to be a practical joke turned into, well, you can read it for yourself.

A little background on the characters. Dave is the saggy ball guy. He’s dating Linda who is Jane’s sister. Jane was the bride at the wedding and Chuck was the groom.

Ok, here's Dave's email:

So, the other day my girlfriend, Linda, got a letter in the mail addressed to Mr. Smith [Linda and Jane’s father]. Her dad is living at her house currently while he works in the metro area, but she figured that it was meant for her because he doesn't get mail there. Inside was a letter along with some photos. As has been done at thousands of other weddings, I had taken one of the disposable cameras to the bathroom and took a couple of forgettable pictures of my balls. So this guy thought he could retaliate by sending my girlfriend's dad a letter exposing me. Below is the email I wrote in response.

Linda made me a take a couple of things out that pertained to her friend, but I still think it's funny.

Ah, Chuck. I feel this sudden connection to you. It’s as if I can actually see you with a smug, self-congratulatory look on your face: your beady eyes squinted, and your awkward mannerisms manifesting themselves on your rosacea-stained face. Oh, but it feels so good to retaliate from afar without getting your hands dirty, doesn’t it?—if only you could be a fly on the wall during the aftermath of your well-executed revenge, served up as the proverbial cold dish. But. . . it didn’t quite go down the way you fantasized that it would.

Actually, the self congratulations were all mine. It has been quite a while since I’ve laughed as hard as I did at those pictures and your letter. I had completely forgotten about those pictures taken in a futile attempt to salvage any fun that was possible on that Saturday night. Having those pictures sent back was probably the best thank you I could get from a wedding such as yours. I immediately got on the phone and told half a dozen friends as well as my mother and father. This minor photo gag would never have been worth telling if you hadn’t sent that letter. After the laughter finally subsided, it did occur to me, however, that this guy had a fair amount of nerve to send this addressed to Linda’s dad. Her dad? Really? I mean, to underestimate me and demonstrate that you don’t know who you’re dealing with is understandable. But to involve a 30 year old’s parent? Well that demonstrates something completely different.

Let’s dissect this for a moment.

When evaluating why this letter was sent, the obvious question becomes whether you and your new bride discussed the wording and addressee to whom you would send this, or if you acted alone. Knowing, as we do, that Linda and Jane were at one time very close, it seems illogical that if Jane were upset at the irreverence and disrespect of a couple of nutshots that she would bypass a conversation with Linda directly, and intentionally embarrass her with her dad along with intentionally sabotaging Linda’s relationship with her boyfriend. Also knowing that Jane has had a rocky relationship with her own father, it seems even less likely that she would undermine Linda’s relationship with her dad. An adult woman who feels slighted by a friend’s boyfriend in some way typically would go straight to the person she is upset with, not the father of her friend. If Jane did agree to sending this to Linda’s dad, then the only conclusion would be that she is content with ending their friendship, but it seems very implausible that she was even aware that this letter was sent.

So, the next question becomes: what is good ol’ Chucky’s intention with this since it is obvious he did this on his own?

If it were a matter of simply being offended that a guest took some pictures of his loose, warm testicles with your disposable camera, it would be easy to imagine some type of confrontational email or phone call; maybe a clever prank in return, maybe even a persuasive argument to convince Linda that she should leave her creepy boyfriend. Obviously it was more than that.

Sending a letter to Linda’s dad is clear proof that the intention here was to sabotage the friendship between your wife and Laurie. One thing that became instantly obvious to me as an outsider at your grand event was that you have very few friends. It could just be because you’re an uninteresting toolbox, but I could also easily speculate that you have found ways to sabotage other friendships your wife has as well. Obviously just sending an angry letter, email or the like to Linda or me wouldn’t be enough to ruin their friendship. The only way to do that would be to punish Linda somehow. Maybe you thought you were doubly clever and you could punish me at the same time and somehow break us up in addition to sabotaging their friendship. Oh, the glee of using Linda’s dad as a pawn in your game of manipulation and control! Well, not quite.

Let’s talk now about your word choices in the letter. But first let me quote your terse letter in its entirety:

“Mr. Smith,

I just wanted to let you know what kind of person your daughter is dating in Charles. Apparently this is what he thinks is appropriate to do with a disposable camera left on the table at someone’s wedding reception, where he is a guest. He’s quite a catch.

Happy Holidays”

Your word choices are very telling, Chucky. “Where he is a guest” tells me that you were positively seething at the thought of a stranger coming in and destroying the sanctity of your pseudo-barn reception. The audacity to disrespect Chuck, doctor of pharmacy at the venerable Wal-Mart drug store!

“Happy Holidays” is so easy to read. Look at how smug that sign off is--thinking you have just struck the fatal blow but maintaining a nonchalant breeziness. Ha!

But the best part of the whole thing to me is this: “what he thinks is appropriate. . .”

Appropriate? This is where it all gets funny. I love when a self-righteous person appoints himself the judge of what is moral, ethical, appropriate etc. When I thought of how I might respond to this whole thing, at the very first I was inclined to simply keep retelling the story to anyone I thought would laugh. It’s not often, after all, that a jest such as hijacking a disposable camera at a wedding gets to be relived like this. Too often you never get to find out what became of your funny Kodak moments, and you rarely get a reaction like this. But then I started thinking about the type of letter I might write. I started thinking, “if this guy thinks he can call me out to someone’s parent, I wonder if he’s prepared for the fallout of some of his skeletons being outed to the world?”

How might I begin a letter written to your parents, coworkers and friends (all 3 of them)? Hmmm. Maybe I would begin by recounting the story of how you and your ex advertised on the internet that you would like another woman to have a threesome with you. I would probably go on to say that the person who responded to the ad was Jane. You then had an affair with Jane and eventually left your wife. Appropriate behavior? I don’t really know if it is or not, but I’d be willing to bet that it would be embarrassing if a stranger sprung this on your parents and associates. Or maybe airing dirty laundry that I won't mention on your wife before she finally settled for you--a controlling douche bag of a half-man who thinks tattling to someone’s parents is clever. Let’s talk about who’s “quite a catch.” I guess she found someone in you who is as detrimental to her as other male figures in her life were.

I guess the real kicker in all of this for you is that this email has a number of people blind carbon copied so they can all judge for themselves what might be appropriate. I wonder if Jane will approve of the letter you sent after she sees all of this. Rest assured that in addition to everyone blind copied on this email, I can find addresses to both sets of your parents if you feel this needs to be escalated, Chucky. Unlike you, I don't feel the need to punish Jane as you tried to punish Linda, but the opportunity does exist.

And, for the record, Linda’s dad has two thoughts on this whole thing: that you are a contemptible dildo, and that someone who takes himself as seriously as you needed a good teabagging.

Happy Holidays, indeed.

Sunday, January 13, 2008


Have you ever thought about taking one of those rich bitches from The OC or The Hills or whatever it is MTV is calling it now and just fucking the shit out of her? We're not talking about foreplay and kissing and shit, just bend her over, stick it in and pound away till she starts crying - and then pound harder. I've never thought of that. You people are some sick mother fuckers!

I'd just put up with her bullshit for a year, get married, and take half of whatever I could and get the fuck out of Dodge.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

“I Love Kids!”

The shit that comes out of my mouth when I’m trying to get in the pants of a single mom.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

So This Chick...

...comes in to the bar and the bartnder has the hots for her. She talks to me for two hours and he gets pissed. I did the right thing and left, but fuck, why get pissed at me? I wasn't even looking for the poon. Shit, fuck the politics.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008


I was going to print this off and send it to Swandad over at Third and Long with some snappy caption like "This is Ohio State's 2008 football trophy" but I think I've given the guy enough shit over the last year. Wait, this is a new year. That's a clean slate in my book. Game on, Swandad!!!

Tuesday, January 08, 2008


Sometimes I try to come off as a dick or an asshole on this here site. Don't get me wrong, I can be when I want to. Most of the times I don't even have to try. But sometimes I feel like I'm lying to you. See, Tuesday night I stayed home and watched the movie Next with Nicholas Cage. Movie was ok, ending sucked, save two hours of your life and beat off to porn instead (pace yourself, two hours is a long time, I don't want you to injure yourself). After that was over I watched Cyote Ugly. Even though I've seen this movie a dozen times already I still, oh geez, be strong... I still cried three times while watching it. There is a sensitive side somewhere in me.

Uh, I can't believe I just told you all that.

And now I think I'm in love with John Goodman. Wait, I mean Piper Perabo!

Pizza, Cheese, Rumble

Last night I ate a medium pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut at 9:00 while I watched the game. As I’ve mentioned before, my body doesn’t handle dairy products all that well. Knowing that I had an early morning meeting I had to hit the sack at the end of the third quarter, around 10:00. I swear my stomach rumbled the whole time from 10:00 to 11:00. I couldn’t even fall asleep because of the violent gurgling going on down there. And then I started feeling pressure. Not knowing whether it was solid or gas I let a little one slide. Thank God it was just gas!!! After testing out the process a couple more times I decided it was ok to let the big daddy go. The big daddy was, well, big. You probably could have seen the covers flowing in the breeze. Oh, and it stunk pretty damn bad. But it was my fart, I kind of enjoyed it.

After the game the Renter came home and knocked on my bedroom door. “See, I told you to take the ov… Oh, what the hell? What’s that smell?”

Please don’t tell me you’re still trying to figure out why a tall, handsome, well edumacated guy with a great personality is still single.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Ohio State/LSU

31-17 at the end of the third quarter. Fuck. I wanted LSU and the over. But, like usual, I was a pussy and didn't do anything. Can't wait to see what the score is in the morning. I have to wake up early so I'm going to bed. Sweet dreams.


Pretty much everything in my life is set to a schedule. On a typical weekday I’ll get in to the office at 8:30, grab something to eat at 9:00, hit the lunch bag again at 11:00, sit on the shitter around 11:45, lift weights at noon, eat again at 1:00, crap again at 3:00, snack at 4:00, leave work around 5:00, dinner at the parent’s house at 5:30, crap at 6:30, hit the bar around 7:00.

The typical weekend goes like this: wake up at noon, grab something to eat (last Sunday it was a triple Whopper, a Whopper Junior, and onion rings), watch some TV, crap, take a shower, go up to the bar, crap again before I get too loaded (otherwise I could find myself in trouble), and then of course, get loaded.

Does anyone else crap three times a day? It’s not like I’m just sitting there trying to push shit out. All three are healthy, God-I-hope-I-make-it-to-the-bathroom-in-time legitimate shits. And the amazing thing is the last one of the day is the loudest, messiest, stinkiest, and arguably quickest one of the day as the cafeteria food purges my whole digestive tract in one fell swoop. Seriously, ain’t nothin’ solid about Mr. 6:30. The Renter laughs at me when I get home and leave my bag and coat in the hallway and race into the bathroom clenching the seat of my pants. And then all I hear is, “Good God you stink” for the next ten minutes.

I wonder if they’d put me in the Guinness Book of World Records.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Dingle Berry

Did anyone else see the two guys in the West Virginia game named "Dingle" and "Berry" sitting next to each other? Classic.


Everyone, can I get your attention please. I’d like you to meet my girlfriend Sally. Sally and I met on Yahoo! Personals a couple months back and we’ve been rock solid ever since. When I saw Sally’s personals ad I knew we’d be a perfect match. Her heading “You can look 4 love in ALL of my places” roped me in right away. I just had to continue reading.


I have a life that I adore, with incredible friends, a fantastic family, an exciting career in the hospitality industry in which I believe I'm making a positive difference, and own a great condo in a fun area of The Bronx. I'd love to meet someone where there is a mutual attraction.

I feel like I should be totally honest however, because I do have some idiosyncratic faults. This morning, I woke up with my finger in my rump that I had (forcefully) placed there the night before. And it's bleeding. I guess that I've just become too lonely as of late. Is there any way you can understand those kinds of needs?

Also, I seem to be growing a cute little pot belly upon which I want to get a fairly large tattoo of the Pope on a Chopper. Popes (or any other tarted up, megalomaniacal, gay, pedophile rapist in a dress) are so cool. (I'm told that every alter boy in the Vatican loves to get his Papal rump ride, come Christmas.) Even my baby sister has a tattoo now. She said I need one too, to blend in. I can't open my eyes without seeing Tattoos (and chrome motorcycles) anymore. So they definitely make you cool by definition, no experience necessary. At least in my book.

I try to stay safe while I go speeding inattentively on the BQE in my slammed H3 with chrome spinner rims which I got my last boyfriend to buy for me. And the only bad thing about blaring 11,000 watts of Hip Hop during my travels is that it keeps me from being able to enjoy talking on the phone. Which I do whenever possible. Especially while I drive. Also, I have no patience for people who speed in school zones. I don't need the hassle of MADD sending me back to jail for no good reason.

But please keep in mind that I was raised in Oklahoma and am still a little bit country. I love blaring Dwight Yoakum in my ride too, on occasion. Especially while in the more urban parts of town where I go to buy my "party favors." I have a great need to show culture to the non-English speakers of New York (Ebonics ain't English though I DO want my children to be wiggers) as well as all the "Hispanics" from Brooklyn to Hoboken. Because life is a journey of learning, living, laughing and loving.

On the subject of my country roots, I am very well known in Texas for my mechanical bull riding skills. I win awards and prizes for it constantly. And while it is not the safest way in which to earn a living, I have never been hurt to this day. The only down side is that I am afflicted with a near-lethal amount of crotch scarring because of the spandex pants they make me wear. But a little makeup conceals everything. Except the stink.

I spend an inordinate amount of time in front of the television, BTW. Game shows, basketball, soap operas, MTV and Pro (AKA gay) Wrestling really turn me on. Not to mention Reality shows. Especially when I can watch them with some McDonald's in my belly! Happy meals really do have the magic ingredients to make a girl happy.

Would you be willing to be my "friend?" Can you trust me? Maybe give me some money to spend and buy me nice things along the way? I also like cake. I'm otherwise easy to please and very down to earth and honest and my friends describe me as a giver and I am shy at 1st but warm up quickly. I love to laugh and always see the glass as half-full and live life to it's fullest while I look for the One special man in my life.

Be it known that I am far too intelegent for my current work riding bulls and am in training to be a telemarketer for Sprint.

And please, no "real" sex until after we're married. My bunghole is however, pretty loose I'm told... And I'll let you smell my fingers.


Sally, will you marry me?