We’ve been in something of a tizzy over on the String this last week as Gnoob has been regaling us with the tale of his trip to Phoenix . . . in a Sprinter Van . . . in a blizzard . . . with no headlights. I know what you are saying — sounds like a great story, what’s the issue? Well you’re right, even though it didn’t involve Gnoob abducting a hooker, it is a riveting story. The problem is that it is a looonnnnggg story and it took Gnoob the entire week to get the story out. In other words, its a story made for the MWAG Blog. We tried to get him to move the sordid tale over here, but to no avail. He said that the text string was his “medium” or some bullshit. I really think he is just intimidated by having to prepare a proper blog post. He is Gnoob for a reason:
Given that this is the second best String Sprinter Van story (the other one’s top secret, but Karen can verify) and since, much to our initial disappointment, it doesn’t involve Gnoob abducting a hooker or doing anything more than Gnoob being Gnoob, I have decided to share it with you since Gnoob is being a bitch and won’t do it himself. So, without further ado, here’s the story of Gnoob’s recent trip to Phoenix.
Some MAGAt Trumpster at the Federalist delivered a broadside last week claiming that “You’re Not Allowed to Knock Trump for Stormy Daniels If You Watch Porn.” Yes, that was the actual headline. The full article is here. So many ways to go with this one, but let’s just hit the high points and then take a deep dive into the logic at play which, although erroneous, is kind of interesting. And, that headline will be a little confusing at first, especially for Republicans, but I promise I to tie this all up like a Christmas bow by the end. So hang in there.
Got a call from Mongo a few weeks ago, who was in Cabo for the week for a wedding. Mongo asked me to come down to Cabo to work on a proposal we needed to get done to get some new business. Mongo said he was staying in some ridiculous house in Cabo, with its own pool and a “casita.” A “casita” is a “small house or outer building.” Mongo said I would actually be doing him a favor if I stayed in the casita so he wouldn’t feel like he was wasting money having that little house out there sitting empty. Wanting to help Mongo out, and considering that the stay would be as free as the salad at Olive Garden, I grabbed a flight to Cabo to go work on the proposal.
Jake and I still debate whose idea it was to get Bronson. The idea to get another dog was probably mine. But I swear to your god and mine that it was Jake’s idea to get a Rottweiler. I had never even met a Rottweiler. I had only seen them in the movies. A scary brute, silently guarding the estate or junk yard, available, if necessary, to kill or maul any intruder.Continue reading →
The kids and I left for Florida the day after Trish’s funeral. The trip served a couple of purposes. Mainly we needed to get Alexa back to school for the end of her freshman year at the University of Miami. We also needed more time to spend together as a family, just the five of us, and figure out how this new life might work without Trish. So on the Thursday after Trish died, the day after her funeral, we loaded up the family truckster and headed out on the 24 hour drive for South Florida.Continue reading →
Strange that I didn’t know the answer to that, but I didn’t, so I asked. Uncle Bud, his real name is Albert, but everyone called him Bud, was my dad’s oldest brother. As the oldest brother, Uncle Bud was the patriarch of the family, at least since my grandpa had died in 1983.Continue reading →
If I gave you one hundred guesses of the jobs I have held, you would never get this one. Hell, I could give a thousand guesses. If you guessed busboy, waiter, camp counselor, bartender, salesman, engineer or lawyer, you would be right, at least at some point in time. But there is one job I had that you would never guess. Not in a million years.Continue reading →
Had tickets for the U2 Joshua Tree concert in St. Louis on Saturday night but it got cancelled because of the riots. U2 concerts don’t matter, apparently. The stone set in my eyes, and a thorn twisted in my side. Well, by sleight of hand and a twist of fate, I got a call from Mr. Blue saying he was headed for the casino in Michigan City. With nothing to win and nothing left to lose, Ava and I headed for that jewel on Lake Michigan, in the shadow of a nuclear reactor, to meet up with Blue.
So I get there and Blue is into this table game Mississippi Stud, and teaches me how to play. I lost my ass, but I was HOOKED. I downloaded a Mississippi Stud app on the iPad machine, and was up all night Sunday deciding whether to triple up the odds on 3d, 4th and 5th street. Since that abortion on Saturday night, I have played thousands of hands on the computer, and have figured out EXACTLY where I went wrong, and how I will defeat this motherfucker in the future, and by the future I mean in a week and a half when SeaDick, Irish Jesus, Mongo, Kool, Keckie, and allegedly Captain and Butthead, descend on Vegas. So herein I give myself away, I give myself away, and describe how you too will defeat Mississippi Stud, like I will, in a week and a half in Vegas.Continue reading →
Alotta guys are out there saying that Sunday night’s episode of Game of Thrones was the best episode of television, ever. Well, who am I to disagree? It was awesome, no one can deny that. And probably the only competition is the prior GOT episodes from past seasons with major battles, like when the wildlings assaulted the Wall, or the Battle of the Bastards, or Hardhomme, when the skeletons just rained down over the cliff and overwhelmed the Night’s Watch. Those were awesome too, you guys. I mean, in that battle for the Wall, you had giants riding in on fucking MAMMOTHS, which are extinct, the last time I checked. People forget that.
So yea, I’m not going to quibble over which of the GOT battle episodes was best. I will admit I had a rager pointing north the entire battle scene with the dragon and the Dothraki’s and Bronn manning the ballista. But I do have a couple of complaints, because I don’t think the battle was realistic.
Like I said a couple weeks ago, I gotta break my blogging slump. Tried to get back in the groove a couple weeks ago, but work and life sometimes interfere with our true calling. Started a couple blogs on Trump and fucking Republicans, but that is just going to create controversy, and I certainly don’t need any more of that in my life. So here’s an easy one, and something we can all agree on—the Top Ten Greatest Songs EVER. Not exactly breaking new ground here, but since it is a list, in order, and covers the greatest songs EVER, it automatically qualifies for Premier Blog status. Can’t really argue with that logic.
Actually, although the Top 10 songs are pretty obvious, I suppose reasonable minds could differ on the ORDER of the Top Ten. And maybe there is some gray area as to the 10 spot. Hotel California really should be on the list, and I expect to catch holy hell for its exclusion. Oh well. That is what premier blogging is all about.