Top 10 Cubs Games of 2016


SPOILER ALERT, but I think we all know what #1 will be.  That one is easy.  After that, not so much.  Obviously, you don’t get to be World Series champs without some ridiculous performances on the field, and some blowouts of the first order of magnitude.  Those games are always fun, but sometimes the close games in extra innings, or the walk off homer (or bunt?!?!), or the come from behind win, are even more memorable.  And then there are games with great stories, like Chapman’s arrival, walking Harper six times in one game, and games where, to be honest, a lot of guys were out there questioning Maddon (not me, Probie, Gramps nor Seadick, but some guys were).  And then you had the POSTSEASON!  Obviously these games were MUCH more important than any regular season game.

How would one even attempt to consider all these factors and name the Top 10 games, let alone IN ORDER??  Well, that’s what premiere blogging is all about.  You’re welcome. Continue reading

Viral Alert – Girl With No Legs?


Given my oath to keep everyone informed when something is going viral on the Internets, the picture above is the latest thing driving people outside their minds.  What the hell is going on here?  Someone is missing a pair of legs, and damned if I can tell if it is girl #2, or girl #3.  Is the picture even real, or photoshopped?  All kinds of theories floating around out there.  Click “read more” to find out the truth, or don’t, your call. Continue reading

SeaDick’s Best Albums of 2016

Alright Monkey fans, I know what you have been saying “SeaDick, where’s the rest of your Best Albums of 2016? For fuck’s sake, it can’t consist of just four albums and it’s almost 2017!”  Mea culpa. No excuses, just an apology and the rest of the list. [Sidenote: I am sure all the smart readers out there have noticed that these posts have been styled as a “Best of” and not a “Top XX.”  So Mr. “Premiere Blogger,” you are just going to have to try to figure out the difference. Only a moran, would insist on ranking everything. It doesn’t always have to be a zero sum game you guys. That’s why we have all those meaningless college bowl games. One last digression as well, Pipes keeps describing himself as a “premier” blogger. I’m going to let my man Inigo Montoya speak out on that:

Alright enough of the digressions. Without any further ado, here are the rest of my best albums of 2016 in alphabetical order (because if you aren’t ranking them, they should be alphabetical so that people don’t think they are out of alphabetical order for a reason.  This is known); Continue reading

Idyt’s Guide to Blogging Basics for Basic Bloggers

We have some new bloggers at the Monkey with a Gun Blog lately, and I, for one, could not be happier.  Seriously!  The only thing better would be if Fergie and Erika Eleniak were leading a yoga pants protest down my street.  I don’t want to be the only person on here casting stupid ideas into the darkness.  It gets lonely, you guys.  You need others in the mix offering their random and useless thoughts to get your own random and useless thoughts flowing.  Steel sharpens steel, am I right? Continue reading

Pell City Cracker Barrel

I was driving from Atlanta to Birmingham.  GPS projected that I was going to be late, and I desperately needed a toilet.  Then I saw the sign that said “Welcome to the Central Time Zone.”  And just like that, I had time to spare.

I passed the Talladega Superspeedway.  I have good memories of the Superspeedway, but I had a train in the station, and my trains run on time.  I pulled off of Interstate 20 at the Pell City exit and recklessly navigated the Cracker Barrel parking lot, bypassed the rocking chairs and weaved my way through the peppermint sticks and the Jesus CD’s to the hostess station.  The nice thing about your Cracker Barrel is that everything – including the shitter – is in exactly the same place in every store.

The morbidly obese hostess in her Holly Hobby dress nicely asked – “just one today sugar?”  I told her yes, but that I needed a minute.  Knowing where I needed to be, I took a confident step in the direction of the consistently located Cracker Barrel Men’s Room.  She casually placed her left hand on my left forearm, and said “here you go baby, you look like you need this.”  She then gave me a used copy of the USA Today.  Now I am not a germ nut, but it did occur to me that this scene had likely played out a few times already that day with some of the men of Pell City.  Nevertheless I tucked the McNewspaper under my arm, and glanced at it while I made room for “Grandpa’s Country Boy Fried Breakfast”.  I can’t for sure say that was the name of the breakfast, but that is exactly as I remember it, so that is how I have to tell it.  It was a great overall experience.

Handing the paper back to Holly I wondered if I had ever had it so good.  It is amazing what getting a little extra time and a soiled copy of the USA Today can do to turn a day around.  If you happen to be in Pell City – accept my condolences – and stop by the Cracker Barrel.


Your President is Making Appointments based on how People Look and No One is Surprised in the Slightest


They are out here saying that your president Donald Trump rejected John Bolton as Secretary of State because he didn’t like his mustache.  I may surprise some people with this hot take, but I’m with your president on this one.  That mustache is awful.  A man can’t make good decisions about what happens on the world stage if he can’t make good decisions about what happens on his own face. Continue reading

Idyt’s Top 10 TV Shows of 2016


In the year that was 2016, I actually wasn’t entertained that much.  Well, the election entertained me for 5/6 of the year.  And then I got my head dashed against a brick wall.  So yea, other than Cubs games and the World Series, it has been a a dreadful, awful year.  In between the disappointments and misfortunes, I have retreated to the darkness, and stared at that “black mirror,” as it were.  To salvage some positive from those hours of wasted time, here are my top 10 TV shows of 2016. Continue reading

Twitter Guessers Aren’t Real


If you want to be internet famous, and who doesn’t, all you gotta do is Twitter predict some wildly improbably event with uncanny specificity, and then have that wildly improbable event actually happen, specifically as you uncannily predicted.  If you can do that, you will go viral on the Internets, the secret dream of everyone these days. 

The latest Nostradamus is @FanuteGod who tweeted back in April that the Giants would go 11-5 and only lose to the Eagles, Redskins, Steelers, Vikings and Packers.  Assuming the Giants beat the Redskins next weekend, this prediction will be dead on balls accurate.  The odds of predicting the Giants’ EXACT win-loss record, and who they would lose to this season, are somewhere between the odds of IJ not drinking a beer today and Gramps ever voting for a Democrat, and by that I mean damn near impossible. Continue reading

Merrill’s Marauders


My nickname is Mongo.  It is not a great nickname, but it is not horrible.  Over time my nickname has started to drift to Mango.  Again, not great, but not that bad.  Nicknames can be far worse.  One of my teammates in high school was apparently daydreaming in the shower, and from that day forward he was known as Rod.  Even the coaches called him Rod.  He quit the team.  May god strike me down with cancer of my one testicle – I cannot remember his real name to this day.  But I did not sit down to tell you about Rod, I sat down to tell you about Garb.

Garb was a great man, an American hero and my best friend.  I met Garb in 1967.  By the time that I met him he had no legs.  Garb fought in the big war.  Mostly in China and Burma.  He was part of an elite unit – the 5307th Composite Unit (Provisional).  The 5307th was a United States Army long range penetration special operations jungle warfare unit.  They were the original special forces – total badasses.  If you don’t know about them, you should look them up.  The 5307th also had a kickass nickname – Merrill’s Marauders.  But I mostly didn’t sit down to tell you about Merrill’s Marauders (although the title of the blog might suggest that I did), I mostly sat down to tell you about Garb – one of Merrill’s Marauders who lost both of his legs when he stepped on a land mine in Burma.

Garb and I were inseparable as I grew up.  He taught me how to gamble, he took me to the track, he taught me how to fight, he taught me how to swear – but most of all he told me how to cowboy up.  Garb drove a Cadillac that was about 100′ long.  Now of course it may not have been 100′ long, but that it exactly as I remember it, so that is how I have to tell it. Garb didn’t have any special controls.  He drove by adjusting the pressure on his pedals by lifting his wooden leg with his right hand, leaving his left hand free to steer and smoke an unfiltered Lucky Strike.  I ran the radio.  In the front seat.  Without a lap belt.  It was a different time.  But I didn’t sit down to tell you specifically about the times we had growing up.  That is another blog for another time.

By the time I got to college Garb was pretty old.  He was not driving the Caddie any longer. He stayed close to home.  I got hurt, and spent a long time in the hospital.  The hospital was a long drive from where Garb lived, and it was an effort for him to get there.  My initial prognosis was that I would be a quadriplegic for life – which was a bummer.  After a few weeks though it became apparent that my spinal cord was not severed, and that there was a chance I could make some type of recovery.  When it became apparent that there was a chance I could get better Garb phoned my Dad (there are many blogs to be written about my Dad, but today is not the day).  Garb never wasted syllables.  Hemingway would have characterized him as abrupt.  He told my Dad – “I need to see the kid.  Tomorrow.  I want to be home before dark.”

Garb visited me and gave me advice that I still remember to this day.  It was not a warm and fuzzy meeting, but the benefit of time gives me perspective that I did not have at the time.  Garb told me – “You caught a shitty break.  You have had enough time to feel sorry for yourself now.  It’s time to get work.  Everything is on you.  You need to work hard, and scratch out what you can.  Don’t look for sympathy – you learn to take care of yourself.  You don’t let people wipe your ass for you.  Don’t use this as an excuse to be less than you can be.”  That was pretty much it.

Eventually Garb died.  I had the honor of delivering his eulogy.  I talked to family members to learn more things about Garb.  I asked his brother Clem (which is a shitty nickname) about the origin of the nickname “Garb”.  Clem told me – “the guy was a garbage can in centerfield! Two thirds of the earth is covered by water, the other third was covered by Garb in center field.  He was amazing … before the war of course.”  It never occurred to me that Garb was short for garbage can.  And I still do not understand why a garbage can – a squat immobile object – is symbolic of a man who can cover a lot of ground.  There is probably a story about the nickname – but I never got more information.  What I did learn though, as confirmed by multiple sources (not that I didn’t trust Clem), was that a month before Garb left for the war he was drafted by the St. Louis Cardinals.  He carried a nickname for the rest of his life that reminded him of the life he could have had, yet never mentioned it to me, or anyone.

I have come to regard it as the best nickname of all time.  It keeps me grounded (well.mostly).