For the Eighth Rant of Christmas, TB Gave to Me….

Posted on December 22, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Gluttony is not a secret vice.” –Orson Welles

….EIGHT pounds a’gainin’.

9 pm. Arrive at Moma’s.
9:15 pm. Chocolate pie.

7 am. Juice, cinnamon blintzes…..Cinnamon blintzes, are you kidding?

8:30 am. The usual. Biscuits, scrambled egg casserole, cheeses grits and a Coke, leaded. And I’ll take one more o’them blintzes. On second thought, they’re small. Make it a double.

11 am. Some peanut brittle.
11:15. Couple o’ sausage balls.

11:45. “Don’t make lunch yet Moma. Please, I implore you.”

12:30 pm. Lunch. Beef ribs, sweet potatoes, extra brown sugar please, jello-cool whip business. Broccoli is still good for you buried under a mountain of cracker crumbs and a fortress of cheese ain’t it? Bread and butter, natch.

1:30 pm. Coconut pie, fresh whipped cream. My favorite Xmas tradition. Better give me jussssst a sliver of the chocolate too before sister polishes it off. I’ll just stay here at the table awhile. Y’all go on about your business.

4:00 pm. Couple a’ more sausage balls. It’s a weakness.

5:30 pm. “Don’t heat anything up Moma. Everybody’s stuffed.”

6:15 pm. Leftovers.

8:30 pm. Sister hasn’t polished off that chocolate pie yet. I better get another sliver before she does.

9:00 pm. “Why’d you make TWO chocolate pies this year Moma? Wish I’d a’ known.

It’s only the 22d. This is ridiculous. No mas. No mas.

What’s that Moma? You need to make space in the fridge for tomorrow? Ok, gimme a couple a’ more a’ them blintzes….

….SEVEN Christs in Christmas, SIX Christmas Parties, FIVE. GOLD. ADS. FOUR freakin’ stitches, THREE triple AAA’s, TWO Billing Errors and a Lounge in a Mall ain’t no Lounge.

BONUS QOTD:

“No mas. No mas. I don’t want no mas.” –Roberto Duran

Posted in Christmas, Humor | Tagged , , , | 9 Comments

For the Seventh Rant of Xmas, TB Gave to Me….

Posted on December 21, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.     –Charles Dickens

…..SEVEN CHRISTS in Christmas.*

“Keep CHRIST in Christmas.” This, from many of the same people who send TB bogus, hate-filled chain emails, are working on their third marriage, fourth bankruptcy, fifth rehab stint and worship the heathen idol Nick Saban on the (old-school) sabbath.

Let me make a suggestion: why don’t you holy rollin’, self righteous, internet proselytizin’ hypocritical* Palinites put Christ back where he really belongs–in your own hearts. You worship your way and I’ll worship mine and we’ll talk about how we do it right and nobody else does at church on Sunday. And another thing, don’t think I don’t know that you know that I know that your really just spoutin’ off all this Christ in Christmas business to glorify, not sweet, innocent, all-powerful baby Jesus, but your own pathetic selves.

I already know what Christmas is all about and I don’t need your Facebook statuses and bumper stickers to remind me. It’s about honoring the genius of the early church in convincing fun-lovin’, hell-bent, rape and pillagin’ pagans to accept a religion of sobriety and peace***. How’d they do it? They let ’em keep the biggest party of the year for starters–yeah, Christmas–highlight of the ancient pagan social calendar. Because any historian or theologian worth a damn knows Christ wasn’t born in mid-winter, some monk with a marketing degree just made it up; though a lot of pagan-Christians were conceived that time of year to be sure. Let’s not insult the memory of our pagan ancestors by forgetting that Christmas is supposed to be the season of celebration, of partyin’, of escape and gluttony. After all, MAS is Spanish for MORE. Let’s put the MORE back in Christmas–that’s what I say!

And another thing. You think there’s a “war” on Christmas? Well, there’s not. Quit being paranoid and stupid. If there is a war about Christmas it is the war you people wage on my own idea of what it should be about, expressed beautifully above by good ol’ Chuck Dickens.

And another thing. Why so focused on putting the CHRIST in Christmas? Is one day a year all you can stomach? I’d like to see some o’you put the CHRIST back in Arbor Day. Or August. And another thing! I don’t say “Xmas” because it sounds stupid. But sometimes I write it because it writes faster. Christians have been doing that for hundreds of years because “Christ” in ancient Greek began with the letter “chi” and the closest symbol to that in the Roman alphabet is “X” and so “X” stands for Christ and because from time immemorial people’s hands have cramped up writing “Merry Christmas” on papyrus Christmas scrolls for each of the 77 people on their list. And another thing! That nativity scene outside your house is real nice, but you do realize there were no wise men present at the birth of Christ, right? They showed up about two years later, and I don’t think there’s much of a market for frankincense or myrrh these days but can you imagine what that gold would be worth now if Joseph invested it prudently? Zero, probably, but if he put it in a safety deposit box it would probably….but I digress….

Come to think of it, not many wise men around these days either. Could use a few….

…….SIX Christmas Parties, FIVE. GOLD. ADS. FOUR freakin’ stitches, THREE triple AAA’s, TWO billing errors and a Lounge in a Mall ain’t no Lounge.

————————————–

*I realize this post probably insults virtually anyone who may read it, but remember friends, it is all tongue-in-cheek. TB loves me some Christmas.

**I can’t believe I went with that cliche.

***In theory.

Posted in Christmas, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

For the Sixth Rant of Christmas, TB Gave to Me….

Posted on December 20, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Unbelievable. I do the nicest thing that anyone’s ever done for these people and they freak-out. Well happy birthday Jesus, sorry your party’s so lame.” –Michael Scott (The Office)

SIX Christmas Parties.

Doesn’t anyone have better things to do? “Hi, GREAT to see you. Yes, things are GREAT. Sure, business is GREAT…..uh huh, family’s GREAT….you too I hope? GREAT. See you next year.”

“Oh, hi. GREAT to see you too….etc, etc.”

Except it’s not GREAT to see any of ’em and they sure as hell didn’t score a point in the game of life as a result of the forced chance encounter with TB. Why must we do these things? The spouse’s office party, the next door office’s office party, the neighbor, school, church, the office-you-hate-but-you-still-have-to-go-because-they-are-a-client-office party….enough is enough! We don’t want ’em, we don’t need ’em, GO AWAY!

Oh, sure, as with anything a Christmas Party can occasionally have its moments, like back in the late 90’s when TB’s ass (allegedly) got photocopied right before–yada yada yada–but you can’t recapture that magic, especially after you get married. If you must have a  party, do it ONCE, blow it out, make errors in judgement that can be collectively “forgotten” by acclimation but if you try to make it an annual event it gets harder and harder each year for everyone to forget the vile acts of revelry committed by others, even harder to forget one’s own. Memory leads to fear. Fear leads to hate. Hate leads to….a miserable month of annual Christmas parties.

Hell yes I need a drink! But I need it on my on schedule, at my own pace, among my chosen company. I don’t want to be standing next to an artificial tree loaded down with meaningless trinkets purchased on deep discount at Walmart some long ago December 28, discussing “how business is” and the price of gold with Phil from down the hall, holding a miniature plate in one hand overloaded with cold chicken wings and faux crab dip and some rotel that can’t be scooped by the six chips–whoops five, one fell off–and a watered down punch in the other while trying to hold my elbows in close so they don’t bump in to drunk, old-ass, prowlin’ Barb’s enormous breasts as she trolls through the throng, all the while averting eye contact with Sally Slutes who dresses in Christmas sweaters with lambs and has a “keep the Christ in Christmas” bumper sticker on her used Land Rover but after a couple of punches starts thinking she’s still single and its still 1997 and she still looks like she did then and that havin’ a big time in the copier room is the true meaning of Christmas parties.

Nah, skip it and just give us a $20.00 bonus in lieu of the fellowship. It might not mean much to you boss-man but it sure as hell would take a bit of the sting out of getting screwed over by the Acme Slutty Toy Corp and their crack customer service guy–Ahmed, or Bill or Sue; if nothing else I could go sit in a dark lounge somewhere and have a drink–a real drink–in peace. Ahhh, peace on Earth, goodwill toward men. Yep, I’m a lot more likely to find it in there….

…FIVE. GOLD. ADS. FOUR freakin’ stitches, THREE triple aaa’s, TWO billing errors and  a Lounge in a Mall ain’t no Lounge.

Posted in Christmas, Humor | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Thursday Pickin’ III, Regular Season Wrap Up

Posted on December 16, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Week:

Is it due to your sub par performance that we all must suffer? –Zeek

It’s hard to believe another season of Thursday Pickin’ has come and gone. On second thought, it’s actually not hard to believe. Easy, even. But I couldn’t think of anything better with which start this post. Truth is, I’m distracted with the normal operation of the blog because I’m preoccupied with dreading the fourth of six crummy Christmas parties I have to go to tonight. Well, that’s not really true. It’s just a dinner and I don’t dread it, but I need a topic for my SIXTH rant and I hate Christmas parties and I wanted to drop a preview because I’m more interested in crackin’ myself up right now than I am in showering accolades on all of you championship level Thursday Pickers.

Basically, it’s this. TB won my last couple of POTW’s to finish the season with a bit of salvaged pride. That’s a nice way of sayin’ my picks this year really sucked. I went 6-8 on POTW’s and 27-34-4 on bonus selections. The TBU fared much better, finishing 159-129 for the year.

The final regular season standings:

  1. Tiny D  684
  2. BR  655
  3. Flyin’ J  650  (For the record, the Week 14 winner at 4-0 plus tunage points)
  4. BW Buzz  592
  5. Face  577
  6. Pitalo  577
  7. JLou  574
  8. SmilyJ  564
  9. Sweet  548
  10. Larry  519
  11. CTJ  506  (your 3 week run of excellence is noted)
  12. TDW  505
  13. TKH  481
  14. Fig  461
  15. RSR  455
  16. Fish  450
  17. TB  432
  18. MD  431
  19. Mac  397
  20. Zeek  374
  21. Irv  308
  22. Feidt’s Follies  164
  23. Harmony  (Awesome)

Thanks again to everybody for making the season a lot of fun here in the TBU.

PS, I need a good acronym for the champ. Suggestions needed, even from Zeek.

In the meantime, stay tuned for more Christmas ranting.

 

Posted in Sports | Tagged , , , , , , | 20 Comments

For the Fifth Rant of Christmas, TB Gave to Me….

Posted on December 15, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.     —JRR Tolkien

….FIVE. GOLD. ADS.

(Before continuing, please be advised the following was written and is intended to be read with the shrillest, most manic manner possible. If you are pregnant or nursing, or if you are under the care of a physician for high blood pressure, depression, OCD, random tics, chronic apathy or the Clap, please leave the TBU immediately.)

At least. Every day. Gold is up to something like twenty-two thousand dollars per ounce for cryin’ out loud and they tell me to BUYBUYBUY! On the radio, on tv, via smoke signal…I can’t escape this message. The economy is ready to implode. ANY DAY NOW! Why these ads didn’t bother me from when they really took off in November ’08 up til the present, I can’t explain.  Maybe it’s because we just incurred another enormous “co-pay” for those four precious stitches. Maybe it’s because of tension in Korea, or Wikileaks, or the ongoing bloody war on the winter solstice, or maybe it’s the sudden realization the credit card bill for the one Sally Slutzzz I bought and the three I had to pay for thanks to Rajhib, or Marceau, or Herm or whatever the hell his name was, or maybe I’ve spent a few minutes too long in line waiting to get my batteries or too little time in lounges the last few years; I can’t pinpoint exactly the genesis of this, my season of discontent, only that these ads imploring me to buy gold have created a sudden urgent desire to exodus the hell away from it all!*

Ok. I gotta protect me and mine. Better get some gold. But where in the wide world of sports am I supposed to come up with the cash to buy it in the first place? And who in their right mind will trade real, tangible, shiny pieces of paper that say I get gold if the world loses it’s final tenuous links with rationality in exchange for my hypothetical greenbacks? Will my scraps of paper that say I own gold protect me from the marauding hordes? Will they come in handy in my bunker? Perhaps, if there is no running water. Hell I don’t even have a bunker yet! Don’t I need one of those before I get my gold slips?

Ok, forget the paper. I want the real thing baby. Does that cost extra? Because the hordes will surely leave me alone if I hold up my beautiful rocks to ward them off when they start marauding. Or does that only work with vampires? I just don’t know. I just know I need gold, gold I tells ya! And bullets! And Spam!

But I can’t get any gold. My meager funds are rather tied up at the moment. As a matter of fact, so are everybody else’s, not counting the people with so much damn money they can afford to go on a gold buying spree and consequently have absolutely no reason to. So screw you Comcast and Sirius and USA Today and the Penny Pincher at Burger King and Phil from down the hall, neoconservative zealots and pseudo-liberal appeasers! I can’t get any gold. I wish I could. ‘Cause I guaran-damn-tee you if I did get enough to have a rootin’ interest the karma would be strong enough to break off in your ass right along with mine when the investment crashes. So shut the fudge up** for a few days and let me try to maintain the tatters of a positive mental attitude just long enough  to make it through Christmas with a smile on my face.***

(sigh) On the upside, if it all crashes down in the next couple of weeks and I still don’t have any gold, or a bunker, I will have a mint condition Sally Slutttz and her rarely seen sidekick Barbara Boooty. And plenty of batteries. And a happy Scamp. You’ll be beggin’ me to trade, Phil, but I think I’ll pass.

———————

*the following was omitted, due to a momentary use of judgment, “All these numbers in my head…it’s confusing. What’s my duty-ronomy as a husband and father?

**except I didn’t say “fudge.” It was the queen mother of all curse words.

***If you would like to have more information on how I feel about these ads and those who profit from them, send a self-addressed stamped envelope to “Kissmyass, S.A., a Himalayan Corporation”, 6971 F.U. Boulevard, Grand Junction, Colorado. I will send you a richly bound, full color glossy photocopy of (allegedly) my ass taken during a mid-90’s office party. Lips not included.

…..FOUR freakin stitches, THREE triple AAA’s, TWO billing errors and a lounge in a mall ain’t no lounge.

Posted in Christmas, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

For the Fourth Rant of Christmas, TB Gave to Me….

Posted on December 12, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns.” –Shakespeare, Henry IV

…..FOUR freakin’ stitches. In the face. The second time this year.

The Little Scamp is a pretty well-coordinated kid. But when she falls, by God she falls. On stuff. With sharp edges. Face first.

And so off to the plastic surgeon’s we went after retrieving the bloodied, bruised, but unbowed Scamp. Expecting histrionics, we were surprised to find her in the Principal’s office looking more sheepish about the whole affair than distraught.  The teacher had already wiped her face and the bleeding had stopped, so we could see the wound was superficial, but splayed. Sadly experienced at this game, we knew to skip straight past the emergency room and into the plastic surgeon’s office. They know us there. So even if the gatekeeper tried to give us trouble about “appointments” and “referrals” and such, Rock Star wasn’t gonna be buyin’. The best guy in town sews up the Little Scamp, and he does it now. No further discussion is necessary on that point.

But before we could get in the car, the Scamp insisted we go back to her classroom. Fridays are “show and tell” after all, and she was amped. Actually, she first insisted she was staying at school and we could get bent, but one look into the eyes of Rock Star ended that particular line of discussion, the look that cows even the legendary hardheadedness of the offspring of TB. Anyway, she marched proudly back to class, showed everyone her Rudolph and his Red Nose, accepted, not only unapologetically but gluttonously, luxuriously, their sympathy and love and admiration, offered and received with the dearth of self consciousness which only four year olds are capable. Then she gamely departed, not looking back, to face the needles and thread with the stoicism and blissful ignorance which only an almost four year old is capable.

Me? I spent four freakin’ hours waitin’ on four freakin’ stitches in the “patient’s lounge”–don’t get me started about that. Left a to-do list for Friday that featured items not done Thursday a mile long unattended at the office. Calculated our financial hit, based on experience, at about forty Sally Slutzzzes. Missed my Thursday Pickin’ regular season finale and playoff preview deadline (rescheduled for this Thursday). Had to watch Fox News all afternoon. And got the good word as we made for the exits that the Scamp won’t have to be put to sleep when the stitches come out. I get to restrain her. Which is gonna be pretty freakin’ rotten. Maybe I’ll let “Ishmael” or “Jean-Luc” or “Ralph” or whatever the hell his name was just send that Barbara Boooty after all. ‘Cause it’ll be the Little Scamp’s turn to rant come Wednesday, and I may need a bribe because, let me just say, the kid’s got “it” in her blood. Trust me. You can still see it on her shirt….

….THREE triple AAA’s, TWO billing errors and a lounge in a mall ain’t no lounge.

Posted in Christmas, Humor, Life | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

For The Third and Second Rants of Christmas, TB Gave to Me…

Posted on December 7, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Batteries Not Included”     –ubiquitous

……THREE triple AAA’s. Are you kidding me? What’s wrong with good old-fashioned all-American AA’s, two or four at a time no matter the product? What is this, some kind of ancient Chinese curse? You do realize, Mr. UBToys, that AAA batteries are only sold in twelve-packs. That means after I pay for four times as much power as I need so little Sally Slutzzz–the new Girlzzz doll that dresses like Kim Kardashian and says things to my precious, innocent, angelic Little Scamp like, “oh. my. god. math totally suxxx” and “uhhh, that is sooo ugggly”–just so Sally can dispense these pearls of wisdom from the minds of the marketing geniuses who brought us MTV without music to the impressionable ears of America’s future–after wasting that money I’m gonna be left with nine AAA’s rolling around in my junk drawer until next Christmas, cloggin’ up the place so I can’t put my hands on our measuring tape or the secret Coke codes that’s gonna win me the lottery or a safety pin or the four of clubs, until I need three more AAA’s for next year’s Sino-lead-coated treasure in which case I’ll find only two AAA’s remain and so another twelve pack will have to be bought ensuring the cycle will continue until the day comes when I need only a single AAA to go in my TV remote in which case the junk drawer will turn up only tape measures and bottle caps and paper clips and matchbox cars but not a single solitary AAA battery. Honestly, can’t we just outlaw AAA’s? And do they even make plain’ ol’ A’s? But I digress…..

…..TWO billing errors. Serenity now. Serenity now. “Yes “Joe” from Mumbai, or “Sven” or “Sahim” or whatever your real name is…..I spoke with “Bruce” last week, or “Jose” or “Rashi” or whatever his real name was. He ASSURED me this would all get straightened out….I ordered ONE Sally Slutzzz and you sent me TWO and charged me for two. I sent one back because that’s what Bruce said to do but then instead of a refund I got charged AGAIN. So I have paid for Sally Slutzzz three times and I only have one doll and that’s bad enough but do you realize I also had to buy twelve batteries to make her talk? But I digress. What’s that? Yes, I know she only requires three.  Yes, I’ll save the rest for another toy. Just credit my account and we’re all good. No. I would not like to speak with someone about refinancing my house. I want my forty-seven dollars and twenty-three cents back. No-no-no. I do not want to order Barbara Boooty. So what if I have nine extra batteries! Don’t put that in the computer Joe! Joe, if I get a Barbara Boooty I’m comin’ over there and kickin’ your ass. I saw Slum Dog Millionaire Joe. I know what’s up in Mumbai Joe. No, I am not interested in subscribing to “Field and Stream.” Joe, PAY ME MY MONEY! Joe, don’t hang up! JOEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…..”……

and a lounge in a mall ain’t no lounge.

Bonus Quote of the Day:

“Made in China” –ubiquitous

Posted in Christmas, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Thursday Pickin’ Season III,Week 14 (Friday edition)

Posted on December 3, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quotes of the Fortnight:

“Just stalking.”     —Harmony

“Looks like a dominating performance by the TB pickers.” –Sweet

Well, another season of Thursday Pickin’ is almost in the books. It’s been a year to forget for ol’ TB, but as it always does, the TBU comes through collectively to show all you degenerate gamblers the path to riches. One of these years somebody is gonna take advantage of the wisdom, experience and blind-ass luck that is assembled here. The last two weeks, led by CTJ and Flyin’ J, the weekly winners, have produced a 26-14-1 record on POTW’s and 68-40 on bonus picks. The season tally for POTW’s sits at 147-124. TB continued to slump through Third Week, but I got off the schnide last week with a winner. I was 1-1 on POTW’s over the two week period and 6-3-1 on bonus picks bringing my records for the year to 5-8 and 25-31-4. Something to build upon for next season, as they say. Below are the two-week point totals and the updated Season Standings.

Last 2 Weeks:

  1. Flyin’ J  136
  2. Coach TJ  136
  3. JLou  124
  4. BW Buzz  124
  5. Sweet  118
  6. Smily  100
  7. BR  99
  8. Pitalo  94
  9. TB  93
  10. Tiny D  88
  11. TDW  82
  12. Larry  78
  13. Mac  78
  14. RSR  78
  15. Zeek  78
  16. Face  78
  17. Irv  63
  18. TKH  60
  19. Fig  50
  20. MD  46
  21. Fish  34

Season Standings:

  1. Tiny D  628
  2. BR  605
  3. Flyin’ J  571
  4. Smily J  544
  5. BW Buzz  542
  6. Face  527
  7. JLou  525
  8. Larry  509
  9. Pitalo  509
  10. TDW  505
  11. Sweet  492
  12. Fig E  461
  13. Fish  440
  14. CTJ  438
  15. TKH  431
  16. MD  421
  17. RSR  405
  18. Mac  397
  19. TB  388
  20. Zeek  364
  21. Irv  282
  22. FF  164
  23. Harmony  (the best TP Stalker I even knew)

My Picks of the Week and your link to the odds:

  • Nebraska  +4
  • Florida St  +3′
  • Oregon  -16
  • UCLA  +7
  • W. Virginia  -20′

POTW, in a big way, Auburn  -5′

The Season Three Tunes List:

  • Get Off This–Cracker  (RSR)
  • Pyro–Kings of Leon  (TD)
  • Kiss Off–Violent Femmes  (Harmo)
  • Amie–Pure Prairie League  (JLou)
  • The Bird–Morris Day and The Time (Fig E)
  • Nobody Gets Me Down–T Model Ford  (Irv)
  • Werewolves of London–Warren Zevon  (Sweet–for one of the great opening lines ever)
  • Zombie–The Cranberries  (Coach TJ)
  • Touch Too Much–AC/DC  (BR)
  • Light You Up–Shawn Mullins  (Larry)
  • Black–Pearl Jam  (MD)
  • Silence–the original alternative music….roots grunge (Fish, TDW and BW Buzz)
  • Shout at the Devil–Motley Crue  (Zeek)
  • Vasoline–Stone Temple Pilots  (Pitalo)
  • Tighten Up–Black Keys  (Mac)
  • Steamroller–Elvis Presley  (SmilyJ)
  • Money–Pink Floyd  (Face)
  • Easy Money–Todd Snider  (Flyin’ J)
  • Ain’t Nothin’ But a Party–Dirty Dozen Brass Band  (Feidt’s Follies)
  • California 85–Bruce Robison  (TB)
Posted in Music, Music, Sports | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 32 Comments

On The First Rant of Christmas, TB Gave To Me….

Posted on November 30, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Day:

“Bah! Humbug!”     –Ebenezer Scrooge

….a lounge in the mall ain’t no lounge…..

Even if its at Saks. Listen up you little panty-waisted-skinny-jean-sportin-no-rimmed– glasses–wearin’ interior decorators…..I’ve had a long day walkin’ through your overly decorated and too brightly lit aisles dodgin’ little scamps and slow movin’ grandmas and waitin’ on cell phone distracted soccer moms for Jesus to find their checkbooks amongst all the lip balm and crayons and peppermints in their tote bags…..and when I see a sign for a lounge it’s the last straw. You know what a lounge is, you little knock-kneed-fashion-forward-disco-dancin’-fancy-boy twerp? It’s where I’m headed when I leave here. It has cigarette smoke that slaps you right in the face when you open the door and dares you to be man enough to defy it. There are two 1970’s era made-in-America RCA fourteen inch TV’s on a makeshift shelf in the corners above the bar–color TV’s, but the picture skips sometimes on all three channels. Oh yeah, there is a bar. It serves beer. And there’s a few well liquors back there just in case somebody really needs it. They’re all brown whiskeys. And if you ask the bartender chick who might have been semi-good lookin’ ten years, twenty thousand cigarettes and thirty tattoos ago for a purple hooter or a Red Bull she just stares back at you blankly. Maybe there’s a sign above her head that says “free beer tomorrow.” You can get a patty melt, the kind where the butter leaks out onto your shirt when you pick it up and you don’t care because there ain’t no chicks lookin’ to be impressed in a lounge so you just pour a little beer on it and take a big bite and look around to see if anybody’s sizin’ you up for a fight. In some lounges there’s a card table, maybe even  a pole with a three-foot diameter dance floor around it. And there’s ash trays full of butts, but nobody who’s smokin’ in there today seems to be using ’em. And there’s a Pac Man game in the corner that nobody plays. Did I mention there’s beer? And a pisser. And the pisser has every damn thing your little lounge has too and ads for a DUI lawyer and a bail bondsman just in case you need ’em, can your so-called “men’s lounge” say that? Didn’t think so. So quit callin’ it a lounge and remindin’ me of where I ain’t. ‘Cause by the time I got my Isotoners and a twelve pack of aaa batteries paid for I could’a used an hour or two in a real lounge instead gettin’ a lousy eyeful of your patronizin’ euphemistic excuse for one.

It was nice and clean though, so I appreciate that.

Posted in Christmas, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Thursday Pickin’ Season III, Week XIII

Posted on November 25, 2010 by travellinbaen

Quote of the Week:

“I’m late, but I’m not hungover any more. It was Third Week.” –Harmony

“The truth is out there.” –Sweet

Ok, it’s not only Thanksgiving Day, but the last week of the regular season of Thursday Pickin’. So…..no weekly standings will be posted today, so as to build suspense for next week. I’ll post the final regular season stats and last week’s point totals on next week’s wrap-up show.

Some of you will appreciate, more of you will get a chuckle out of the fact that TB got out and ran a 5K this morning. And now I am ready for some turkey. Tunes this week were inspired by the miserable middle two k’s I endured while most of you were watching Woody Woodpecker’s annual appearance on the tube. Next week’s finale will feature the playlist of the year, taken from your choices through the year, especially the weekly winners. You are invited, if you have nothing else up your sleeve, to highlight some tunage of your competitors you think oughta be on that ultimate TP playlist.

Here’s your link to the odds, and my picks for the week:

  • Auburn +4
  • Michigan  +17
  • Tennessee  -3
  • Oklahoma State  -2′
  • Georgia Tech  +13′

POTW  South Carolina  -2′

My tunes, in the order which they occurred to me and cycled through my travellinbraen during the race:

  • Eye of the Tiger–Survivor (dedicated to BR)
  • Runnin’ on Empty–Jackson Browne (mile marker 1)
  • The Weary Kind–Ryan Bingham (mile marker 1.1)
  • Sloop John B (I wanna go home)–Beach Boys  (mile marker 1.2-1.9)

SOTW:  I Gotta Get Drunk–Willie Nelson (mile marker 2-3.2); the ‘possum heppin’ him out in the you tube version below

Some dessert, since its a holiday:

That’s it. Happy Thanksgiving TBU!

Oh, one more thing….State 34 Ole Miss 16  Go to Hell Ole Miss!

Posted in Music, Sports | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 34 Comments