Food and drink

The other day a social worker asked me what I did for stress relief, and running was the first thing off my lips. Then I had to pause, and I came up with time with my family, and spending time outdoors, and then...cooking. I felt like crap the other day and called in sick, then ended up sleeping most of the morning and afternoon. I felt better when I got up, and without even really thinking about it started baking cookies, chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, and MizBubs ended up making a delicious pork stew and Irish brown bread. The house smelled great.

While drinking should not be tops on anyone's list of stress relief strategies, I have no doubt that the quiet, slow enjoyment of a tasty cocktail, glass of wine, fine whiskey or cold beer contributes greatly to a sense of well-being.

Sitting down and eating a dozen donuts or a pound of bacon at once might provide some satisfaction in the short run, it's probably not a good idea to lean on food as stress relief. That being said, the enjoyment of the right food at the right time goes a long way to restoring your spirit.

Take, for example, this lovely box:

See, at one time this box was full of 5.5 pounds of delicious handmade pastries. But, by the time I could find my camera, this was all that was left. Me and MizBubs came home at the end of a shitty day last week and found this box on our front stoop. Seems that the lovely Jin, of Uniquely Yours Pastry Shoppe, sensed my distress at the loss of my friend and did what she does best--she baked. Here's what we got:

• Lemon slices
• Cappuccino brownies
• Molasses cookies
• Apple crumble squares (these were like the top of my mom's apple crumb pie)
• Apricot scones
• Fruit muffins

Jin thoughtfully included storage instructions for items that had to be kept longer than 2 days. Trust me, we didn't need them. I can say I've never in my life ever had a better selection of baked goods.

_____________________

Sunday afternoon I marinated some chicken breasts in garlic, rosemary and olive oil. We ended up harvesting about 2 pounds of red chard from our garden, and we sauteed the chard in olive oil and garlic. When it was done we tossed the chard/oil/garlic mixture with roasted pecans, chopped crispy bacon and feta cheese, and mixed it all with some pasta. Then we cut the grilled chicken into strips and served it with the pasta. YOW. Good stuff.

So, what drink went with this Sunday feast? We returned to an old favorite, the Sazerac. While the best Sazerac around, in my opinion, is served up at the Napoleon House in New Orleans, the recipe we use is from the Gumbo Shop cook book. Bourbon (or rye whiskey), sugar syrup, Peychaud's Bitters, and absinthe with a twist of lemon peel.

_____________________

On Wednesday we continued with the New Orleans-themed drinks. MizBubs reached into her seemingly endless bag o' tricks and dug out a drink called a Brandy Crusta:

• 2 shots of cognac
• 1/2 shot of triple sec or Cointreau
• 1/2 shot of maraschino liqueur
  
• 1/2 shot of fresh-squeezed lemon juice
• 3/4 shot of cold water
• 4 dashes of Angostura bitters

Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into a chilled glass rimmed with sugar, with a lemon peel twist. When you're done it looks like this:

We followed up the cocktails by picking some Thai basil from our garden, and then tossing it with some ground beef from the freezer, along with garlic, chili paste, sugar and fish sauce. We served the whole affair over basmati rice.


And this carries us into the end of the work week.

Eat, drink and be merry.

Stupid reptile tricks

I've done a lot of stupid things in my life. Some of them involved the consumption of alcoholic beverages.

But I've never, ever put a venomous snake in my mouth to show off for a girlfriend. Now that is bad-asssss. Snakes in a motherf*cking mouth.

23 year old Matt Wilkinson, after consuming a few beers, handed his girlfriend a beer, not realizing he was also holding a 20" rattlesnake he'd found a few weeks earlier. (Yeah, I know, chicks dig a guy who brings a pit viper to a backyard barbecue.) When girlfriend protested, Matt stuck the snake in his mouth to show girlfriend how cool the snake was.

And damn if the snake didn't bite him. You can read Matt's story here.

As Matt said, "You can assume alcohol was involved."

Don't snorkel in the gator hole

As if any reader of this blog needs to hear that message repeated...

Unfortunately, a 59 year old man swimming in Lake Moultrie, South Carolina was not so lucky. That's his arm that you see in the alligator's mouth. Intrepid DNR officers shot and killed the marauding gator, cut him open and retrieved the arm from his belly. Some nurses picnicking nearby gave up a cooler and some ice to preserve the limb, but ultimately doctors could not reattach the arm. You can see the entire series of photos here.

The attack has heightened fears about alligators in human recreation areas. The alligator involved in this attack was 35-40 years old, and accustomed to humans. My sources tell me that young scout gators frequently train in this area before being shipped off to crack houses on the east and west coasts.

On a positive note, the trapper who killed the alligator has offered to mount the head and offer it as a trophy to the victim. Normally he'd donate the meat to charity, but seeing as how the gator was feasting on long pig it doesn't look like anyone would want the gator meat.

Remember--CONSTANT VIGILANCE!

Love Minus Zero/No Limit

YARRRRR

"There! That's what I think of ye. Before an hour's out, I'll stove in your old block house like a rum puncheon. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Before an hour's out, ye'll laugh upon the other side. Them that die'll be the lucky ones."

Thank you, Ol' Chumbucket and Cap'n Slappy.

GET GOING

All right you primitive screwheads, listen up!

It's Monday morning--time to get productive, time to get busy, time to get going.

Here's a frantic up-tempo version of Perez Prado's "Patricia" to help you on your way:

Hero cops reprimanded in gator incident

This story is from southside bureau chief Dena.

Two intrepid cops in Altamonte Springs, Florida, called on to confront a rogue alligator rampaging through an apartment complex, took quick and decisive action. They wrestled the gator into submission, saving God knows how many lives in the process.

Are they being feted like heroes? Commended for their actions?

No. They are being "counseled" which in police administrative jargon is the first step on the disciplinary ladder, right before verbal or written reprimand. That's right--instead of turning that gator into a 4-legged lead mine with whatever firepower they had handy, they went hands-on to neutralize the threat. No ricocheting bullets, no collateral damage. And now some police administrator, obviously soft on the issue of gator violence, wants to "counsel" them.

Sheesh. People wonder why cops burn out.

I can only hope that department's narcotics investigators take a close look at the residents of that apartment complex. Narcozoology tells us that, if alligators lurk in a residential area, so does the dope fiend.

Do something useful

Like, for instance, fold some laundry while you're swilling beer watching the game.

This adorable and efficient young woman can show you how:

Post-run Friday Random Ten

Tomorrow is the peak of the Chicago Marathon training season: a 20 mile run. After tomorrow, it's three weeks of tapering off to race day on October 7. After the 14 miler last week I developed a wicked sore muscle in my left calf, almost a charlie horse feeling. I've iced, stretched (obviously not enough or it wouldn't have gotten that sore in the first place) and poor MizBubs has worked her talented little fingers to the bone trying to massage the knots out of it, but it still nags. We'll see how it goes.

I did a brisk three miles when I got home from work tonight to try and work it out a little. I should have run 20 miles this week, but I've only run 8.

Anyway, I fired up the iTunes and here's what came up:

Blue Moon of Kentucky—Elvis Presley

I'll Be Your Mirror—The Velvet Underground

She-Wolf—Jessie Mae Hemphill

Something's Gotten Hold of My Heart—Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

It Can't Happen Here—Frank Zappa & The Mothers of Invention

Ace of Spades—Link Wray

Hiccups—The Empallos

99 Chicks—Ron Haydock and the Boppers

Cousin Family—Lord Invader

Waiting At The End Of The Road—Fats Waller

Here's hoping y'all have a good weekend.

I want one of these

I wonder if this works on alligators...

Freak of the week

Let's give this a try.

This week's freak is Carlton Davis, the Minnesota Toe-Licker, pictured at right. After stealing a woman's purse and cell phone he announced "now I'm going to suck your feet." And then he did. Thank you, Smoking Gun.

Now, because it is Wednesday (and Wednesday means weenie-wavers!) I'll give you a couple more freaks to consider. While their antics may not be as entertaining as those of some Republican legislators or gospel radio personalities, they're still worthy of note:

51 year old carpenter Percy Honnibal was found not guilty of indecent exposure. Mr. Honnibal likes to work in the nude because it's fun and it keeps his clothes clean and sawdust-free. According to the article:

"Alameda County Superior Court Judge Julie Conger ruled Thursday that although Percy Honniball of Oakland was naked, he was not acting lewdly or seeking sexual gratification."

Judge Conger added, "and anyway, naked middle-aged carpenters are hawt."

Finally, an unnamed freak from Canada, who got caught masturbating in a campus library while viewing porn on a computer. When approached by security the man responded "I'm almost done, can I finish?"

The I think I might be back Friday Random Ten

Words fail me.

I've always been confident in my ability to express myself, and I've always been a talker. I have a report card from when I was in first or second grade, and the teacher actually wrote something like "needs to shut up" in the comments. While my youngest has described me as "blabberous", I'm not just a talker--I've always been an avid reader, and I'd like to think I'm a decent listener. Me and words, written or spoken, we've always gotten along great.

Until this week.

I find it difficult to read, difficult to talk.

There have been more times than I can count in the last week when I've gone to say something and either forgotten what I was going to say, just staring, or even worse, started to speak and instead of words just...sounds...came out. When I did talk, every conversation ran the risk of devolving into ranting or sobbing. I haven't picked up a book or magazine since August 29, and I haven't been reading the news or blogs like I used to. I don't know why, but I just can't.

I did manage to read all the comments you folks left on my last post, and I read them a bunch of times, too, usually late at night or early in the morning. And I read the emails you sent. My brother and his beautiful wife came through with free tickets to the Renaissance Faire and gave me a perfect day with my niece and nephew walking around that glorious freakshow on Labor Day. That's the only day in the last week I really remember clearly. What I wish right now is that I could see each and every one of you, in person, so I could grab you by the hand and look right into your eyes and say "thank you." Thank you.

After the events of the past week, it just doesn't seem right to go back to posting the same bullshit I usually do. Sometime, soon I think, as I get back to my routine, I'll start visiting blogs again. I've tried, but what happens is that I see something that entertains, amuses or moves me, and I want to comment, but I can't. And then I feel dull, and guilty for not commenting.

Fortunately the Interwebs provide opportunities to engage in ritual behavior like the posting of random song selections from your MP3 player. Like memes or quizzes, it gives the opportunity to do something without really doing much. Like going into the office, being there physically for 8 hours, and essentially just moving some papers from one end of the desk to the other.

So here it is, today's random ten:

When You Get Drafted—Dead Kennedys

Nothing like starting with angry thrash.

Trouble's Braids—Tom Waits

Of course there's Tom Waits. A few days ago I went to an all Tom Waits, all the time, format in my car driving around. I just came out of it yesterday. This one is a great poem from Swordfishtrombones.

A Pistol For Paddy Garcia—The Pogues

A spaghetti western instrumental that I got as a bonus track on a reissue of Rum, Sodomy and the Lash.

Ball and Chain—Social Distortion

Boy, is this one perfect. At least I didn't end up locked up or alone in a cheap motel room this week. I have some hard thoughts about my choice of career these past 19 years, but that will pass. This is a great sing-along when you're down: "You can run all your life, but not go anywhere..."

All Mama's Children—Carl Perkins

The good thing about being from Irish and hillbilly stock is that you're allowed to transition, seamlessly and enthusiastically, from maudlin to raucous. Carl Perkins is here to help you do that. Now rock!

I'm Still Here—Tom Waits

Yes indeed.

Red Tan—The Raveonettes

A few years ago I heard about the Raveonettes and bought a CD for my eldest, and now she's got everything they've done. I love it when my kid's music shows up and surprises me. At their best the Raveonettes remind me of Jesus and Mary Chain or the Velvet Underground, but poppier. How often do you hear brooding guitars and dreamy vocals combined with sleigh bells?

I Need Your Lovin' Kiss—Harold Jenkins

Harold Jenkins was an artist on Sun Records and he does some classic stuttering, hiccuping rockabilly here.

I Can't Find My Mind—The Cramps

Holy shit. Lux Interior got inside my head.

Wait—Lou Reed

A ridiculously upbeat, nearly twee song at the end of the brilliantly grim Street Hassle. Not a bad finish to this random ten.

Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you around, I promise.

I don't know how to say this

I probably won't be posting any time soon, or commenting much on any of your blogs.

Without going into a lot of morbid detail, a friend of mine, a coworker who I've known for 12 years, killed himself last week.

This man was, without a doubt, the best of all of us. There were no signs of depression that we could see, and he was literally the last person any of us would have thought to be at risk. I was put in charge of coordinating the department's arrangements and acting as the department liaison to the family. The last week has been a blur of meetings with grieving family, funeral directors, priests, social workers, Honor Guard members and phone calls and visits with other officers. We stood guard over his coffin Friday night during the visitation, and he was so loved that his procession was over a mile long on Saturday.

MizBubs attempted to post something to explain my absence, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She has been an amazing woman through this, and no one should have to have heard the things she listened to me saying these past few days.

It has been a difficult time. I had two days off and I'm back at work now, finishing up some administrative details. My online classes were supposed to start yesterday, and my classroom classes start Monday. It may be too much for now, and I need to decide whether to continue or withdraw by the end of this week. The Chicago Marathon is 4 weeks away, and while I feel healthy, I'm also more exhausted than I remember ever feeling in my life.

Go find someone you love and hug them, and tell them you love them.

Freak of the Week

I know you're all expecting to see another sex fiend for Weenie Waver Wednesday. Sorry to disappoint, but Idaho REPUBLICAN Senator Larry "Glory Hole" Craig has sucked all the oxygen out of the weenie waver news cycle with his antics this week. I mean, really, what's the point digging up obscure perverts from small market media outlets when you've got a CONSERVATIVE REPUBLICAN senator getting arrested?

Of course, I have to put up a link to the arrest report and mug shot as a courtesy. Thank you, Smoking Gun.

_____________________

For this week's freak I return to a topic that's near and dear to me: narcozoology. This story comes from South Side Bureau Chief Dena. As a bonus, this also counts as a "Germany or Florida" story!

Amateur entomologist and herpetologist Mark Vogel, of Dortmund, Germany, was found by police after neighbors complained of the stink. Rather, they found what was left of him:

A police spokesman said: “It was like a horror movie. His corpse was over the sofa.

“Giant webs draped him, spiders were all over him. They were coming out of his nose and his mouth.

“There was everything there one could imagine in the world of reptiles.

“Larger pieces of flesh torn off by the lizards were scooped up and taken back to the webs of tarantulas and other bird-eating spiders.”

Being an expert in both the fields of narcozoology and crime scene reconstruction, and having the benefit of sharing a bourbon with the intuitive and perceptive MizBubs, I now have a working theory of his death. Remember, narcozoology is a bold new science, unafraid of making great intuitive leaps, unconcerned with the lack of what old science calls "facts."

Mr. Vogel, high as a kite from an afternoon spent licking toads, became dizzy and staggered into one of the glass cases holding Bettina, his prized black widow spider. Hilarity ensued as the case broke open, Mr. Vogel engaging in a furious but relatively brief dance as Bettina, startled from her meal of termites, bit him repeatedly.

Hey.

Nothing. Just "hey".

We got our electricity back late Saturday night. Telephone and cable TV Sunday night. Internet access late Monday night.

We were very lucky--no water in the basement, and the tree limb that came down didn't damage anything. We had plenty of ice, and between the cooler and our deep freeze, nothing spoiled.

The library and public schools were all closed on Friday because of the power outage, and I wasn't scheduled to work.

All in all, a not unpleasant few days. We were very, very lucky.

Now, it's time to drop the youngest at school and then go run 9 miles. See y'all later. It looks like I got some catching up to do.

Chacarron Tubular powder

This video speaks for itself. It is a gift to me, and to all of you, from my youngest daughter.

Enjoy!

Splotchy asked for snotty

I was recently asked to participate in Splotchy's Green Monkey Music Project. Maybe I should have been offended that he thought I'd have plenty of snotty music, but no--I was flattered! And, as it turns out, we've got plenty of snotty music. I sat down with my eldest daughter and we started picking out tunes.

The first tune that came to mind was Iggy Pop's "Dog Food" off his 1980 album Soldier. That is one snotty record, and before I re-read the instructions, and contacted Splotchy directly because I was too dense to follow them anyway, our list of 37 snotty songs was about 2/3 Iggy Pop.
We whittled that down and here's what we ended up with:

Dog Food by Iggy Pop--From the opening puking sound to the closing line "dog food is my whole life, dog food composes my wife" this is one snotty song. Close runners-up to this opener were I Snub You, Take Care of Me, Loco Mosquito and I'm a Conservative from the same record. Shoot, why didn't we choose any Stooges songs? Beats me...

Platypus by Green Day--My daughter picked out this one, and at first I didn't recognize it. Then, when it degenerated into a series of obscene insults halfway through, I did. Good choice.

Fodderstompf by Public Image Ltd.--I knew something from Public Image would show up on here. Is anyone in the world snottier than Johnny Lydon? I ended up going with Fodderstompf because Johnny insulted me, personally, when I shouted it out as a request at a PIL show at the old Granada Theater. His response to my request: "You think I can remember all the f*cking words to THAT? F*ck you you silly c*nt." Runners-up were Religion from the same album and Track 8 from "Flowers of Romance."

Dirt by Lou Reed--This one's almost too dirge-like to be snotty, but Lou still manages. Dirt is off the phenomenally brilliant but depressing album "Street Hassle." We almost chose Vicious from "Transformer" but that seemed too obvious.

People Ain't No Good by The Cramps--One of my favorite bands, ever. To me, most of their songs are too snarly to be snotty, but the chorus of little kids singing "people ain't no good" put this song right into snottyville.

Baby's On Fire by Brian Eno--My daughter surprised me with this one. She's recently gotten a bunch of Brian Eno, and she suggested this right away. This is way snottier than I remembered, a perfect combination of lyrics and tone.

Pretty Vacant by the Sex Pistols--We knew we had to have a Sex Pistols song on here somewhere, and once again my kid came through. "We're so pretty, oh so pretty, we're vacant...and we don't care..."

Oh Bondage, Up Yours by X-Ray Spex--This is one of MizBubs' favorite songs from the old days. No one sounded like X-Ray Spex. In perhaps the snottiest move of all, lead singer Poly Styrene left the band and joined the Hare Krishna.

Bonus round: Sit On My Face Stevie Nicks by The Rotters--When Splotchy asked for one more track this was the first one I thought of. I first heard this as a high school senior in late 79 or 80. So over the top it's really a novelty song, almost a parody of punk. When I looked it up I was amazed to find out that the Rotters are still around. Jello Biafra described them as "another one of those bands that forgot to break up."

Weenie-Waver Wednesday

This week's weenie-waver is 52 year old Kenneth Ray Burton, pictured at left. You can imagine my surprise when I found the picture and he wasn't a doughy, crazy-looking white guy.

Mr. Burton was sentenced to 13 years in prison for a series of incidents on the Bay Area Transit System. He originally faced a sentence of 25-to-life as a result of an earlier conviction for sexual assault.

According to San Mateo County Chief Deputy District Attorney Steve Wagstaffe,

“He thinks women like it when he exposes himself to them...He thinks he’s doing them a favor.”

IMPORTANT NOTE:
-added at 2:25 pm

Do not be alarmed. The man pictured above, Kenneth Ray Burton, is NOT "Gordon" from Sesame Street.

Gordon from Sesame Street is played by an actor named Roscoe Orman. He is loved, not feared.

This is Roscoe Orman:

On, Wisconsin!

I don't know what it is about Wisconsin and sword crime, but here's another story from our cheese-making, brandy-swilling neighbors to the north.

24 year old Brian Schmid and 22 year old Renee Ferrerri were arrested after robbing a gas station with a samurai sword. An alert police officer remembered seeing a number of Japanese style swords in the couple's apartment when he was there in May to investigate a domestic disturbance over rent money.

Guess what? Alcohol was involved.

The couple cooked up the robbery plan at Jeeper's Gin Mill, where they stole the work car they used for the occasion.

In her statement to police, Ms. Ferrerri said they

"...planned the robbery because they were tired of their lives and they just ‘gave up.’ (She) said the plan stemmed from both of them wanting to leave the area and start over and needing cash in order to accomplish this.”

What's new in Iowa?

Iowa is so much more than corn, soybeans and Pork Queens.

I know that some east and west coast elites refer to the midwest as "flyover country." I think they'd be surprised if they understood just how interesting places like Iowa are, if you just put aside your prejudices and get to know the people there.

For instance, in Des Moines Iowa they have deranged, naked, hammer-wielding lesbians going on rampages.

How's that for diversity, east and left coast cultural elites? Huh?

32 year old Satin Delfrano, got pissed off, got naked, got a hammer and went on the attack against several other women, some car windows and ultimately a cop.

Alcohol was involved.

Hey, kid

How'd you like to make $20?

The Caring Continuum

I told you not to eat the Japanese pizza

The Zuiikin Gals ate it, and now look what's happened:

Ever feel just wound up and kind of pissed off and you don't know why exactly?

I ask because that's how I feel right now. There are a few things going on...

I'm trying to get a handle on the end of summer, the start of school, blah blah blah, balancing work schedules and personal lives of two adults and two teens blah blah blah trying to get the house organized because we might try and sell in the spring or we might just stick it out here a few more years if we can use our space more efficiently blah blah blah...

Paying college tuition for our eldest while simultaneously fronting the money for my tuition at the same time (at least I'll get reimbursed at the end of the semester) feeling absolute terror at the idea of having to go to school again even though no one's making me do this and I could withdraw right now if I wanted to blah blah blah...

We've totally lost the ability to control Rio's fur and the combination of tumbleweed-sized clumps of German shepherd/Husky mutt fur and high mold counts are starting to get to me. I need to see my allergist since I'm starting to wheeze and have a hard time breathing again, and that's not good when you're trying to run 35 miles a week blah blah blah...

And don't get me started on the f*cking president. I've got about a half dozen Katrina-related stories saved up because I keep telling myself I'll sit down and write some incredibly articulate and devastating critique of this administration's criminal abuse of the Gulf coast, New Orleans in particular, but I probably won't because I'll be tired and easily distracted by the next news story about some freak clown who can't keep it in his pants blah blah blah. Iraq. Foreclosures, bankruptcies, I go nuts watching the working stiff get f*cked over, and our economy resembles a sick Ponzi scheme, a house of cards. I can barely watch the news without crying. I'd like to punch something. I drink because I care.

I wish that the people I met and talked with every day were more like the people whose words I read in blogs every day. I wish the whole world were more like my family. I wish the whole world were more like my dogs.

I can't believe it's Monday already. Good lord.

Sunday afternoon cocktails

Nothing fancy today. It's raining, we've been running errands all day, and frankly we're just a little worn out. School starts for our youngest this week and the endless rain and chill have really driven home the message that summer is over.

It's a good time for a bourbon and water. A basic, but comforting drink for grown-ups. Our house bourbon is Wild Turkey, but we occasionally have Maker's Mark or Booker's on hand. Tonight it's a Wild Turkey, about 2 shots in a glass full of ice, topped off with a splash of water. Repeat as necessary.

Crawling into the 21st century

I finally decided to see what this here "Technorati" is all about. I get curious when I see logos on blogs that I visit, and I want to be like the cool kids.

Technorati Profile

Hold on! That Japanese pizza looks suspicious

As you all know, our motto here is CONSTANT VIGILANCE! An example of that constant vigilance was shown by our youngest daughter, whose discerning eye discovered some pretty disturbing things about that "pizza." She wanted to study the video in greater detail, and so she visited the Pizza-La website for more information. While she was there she found this image containing all the "ingredients" shown in the commercial:


Because of her discovery, I've come to the conclusion that, at the very least, this Japanese pizza desires a revival of the WWII era Axis. Witness the Hitler Onion:


Maybe it's not supposed to be Hitler. Maybe it's just some jailbird white supremacist sporting a Hitler mustache, with a tattooed teardrop commemorating the punk he shanked in the yard. I don't like it.

Things get worse. It's obvious the Japanese have no respect for the integrity of our borders, because they've also included some kind of sombrero-wearing undocumented vegetable:

Our staunch moral values are under attack as well. You thought leaded baby goods and contaminated toothpaste were bad? Hah. Pizza-La has decided that an angry condom makes a good pizza ingredient:

There's more.

Have you ever thought to yourself, "hey, this pizza lacks impact, I think it could use a bomb." The corporate masters at Pizza-La must have had that same thought, because they put bombs on their pizza. Bombs disguised with sunglasses and bird beaks, but with the tell-tale fuse still burning on their little animated heads:


I've saved the worst for last. It seems that Pizza-La might even hate our freedom and want us all to die in an orgy of Islamic fundamentalist violence. Pizza-La? More like Pizza-Bin Laden. Why else would they put a turbaned extremist next to a vial of weaponized anthrax on your pizza?

Let's have some Japanese pizza!

Why am I doing this?

Getting up at 5:30 in the morning to run 16 miles on my day off...

Waking up, lying there staring at the ceiling for a few minutes taking a silent inventory of every ache and pain, every stiff muscle and sore joint, thinking about the relative virtues of more sleep versus rolling my ass out of bed and JUST DOING IT.

Only 50 days left until the Chicago Marathon. The hardest part of the training is coming up now, increasing mileage every week peaking with a 20 mile run on September 15. Then, not a a moment too soon, comes three weeks of tapering off before race day on October 7. Really I only have about 4 weeks of difficult training left, then 3 weeks of coasting.

I'm really not built for this. I know I have arthritis in my knees (which knock wood hasn't manifested itself this year) and I'm about 20 pounds overweight. I run like I'm carrying a refrigerator up a flight of stairs; probably the only thing that would make it worse would be if I took up smoking as I ran.

Thing is, though, I crave that endorphin rush, and I keep reminding myself of that. Hopefully, by the time I finish today, I'll be carried away by a giddy megalomania, making huge plans for future running adventures, my achy pre-dawn angst swept away in a rush of good brain chemicals. I'll eat better, starting today. I'll do those stretches religiously. At least 5 pounds will melt from my frame between now and October. I'll finish faster and stronger than I did in 2004.

Yeah. And maybe I'm a Chinese jet pilot.

Did I mention that I've gone totally around the bend? I'm going to be running a second marathon in December: the Las Vegas Marathon, 8 weeks after Chicago. I'm proving something to myself; I don't know what, but I'm proving something. I meant to mention this on Thursday-- I think I might be running in an Elvis costume, helping to set a world record for most running Elvii in a single event. Oh yes.

It's time to get going.

That's not just any clown

Back then he was "Ronnie the Clown"

Here you see him removing his makeup.

Who is this clown? Rather, who did this young clown grow up to be?



...wait for it...

Christopher Walken

*EDIT: I totally forgot to mention two bloggers who came together within a 24 hour period to help create a perfect Christopher Walken blog trifecta. First, when I was poking around in the ether I found the always perfect Fat Boy Slim video over at Frank Simarco's place. I wanted to leave a comment about something I'd read years ago--that Christopher Walken always works a dance step into every single movie he does. While I was looking up sources to make sure I hadn't just imagined that fact, I found the clown picture.

The next day, I think, I found An Open Letter to Christopher Walken over by The Pop Eye.

Bottom line? It's Christopher Walken's world, baby. We only live in it.

Stupid hillbilly criminal of the week

No, this is not going to become another regular feature. But it could. There are some types of criminal activity that, in my experience, can only be perpetrated by f*cked up hillbillies.

Kasey Kazee decided to rob a liquor store in Ashland, Kentucky. He wrapped himself in duct tape to disguise his identity. He managed to grab two rolls of coins from the register before he was chased out of the store by a club-wielding employee (the club was also wrapped in duct tape), chased down and tackled.

The cops took plenty of pictures of Mr. Kazee as they removed the tape. Mr. Kazee then granted a jailhouse interview and denied being the "duct tape bandit."

My mom knows his family. Seriously.

Last Elvis tribute of the day

Who is this clown?

Ok, I've gone a little contest happy maybe.

Who is this clown? Answer in the comments and I'll reveal the clown's identity on Friday.

Baby let's play house

We've got our life size cardboard cut-out of the King set up, and the candles are lit. If anyone wants to stop by and pay their respects, we'll have plenty of peanut butter and banana sandwiches...

Are you lonesome tonight?

Damn. I still wish he'd stuck around and aged like Johnny Cash.

Mike Mette Needs Your Help

I'd like to take a few minutes of your time to draw your attention to a man who needs your help.

Mike Mette is a Chicago Police officer who is currently fighting for his job and his freedom after being wrongfully convicted of a crime in Dubuque, Iowa, and sentenced to 5 years in prison. Here's the short version of the story:

Mike was visiting his brother in Dubuque, where they stopped by a party near his brother's home. They looked around and decided to leave, and a guy at the party took offense. The guy and a friend followed Mike down the street. This guy eventually attacked Mike, and Mike knocked him out. Through a bizarre series of events, Mike got charged with a felony, and was sentenced to 5 years in prison.

Mike has gotten an unbelievably raw deal, and the more I've heard about the case the angrier I've gotten. Chicago Tribune columnist John Kass has described the sentence as "hogwash" and he also wrote a follow-up column. Word has started to get out, and tonight Mike's case is going to be featured on Anderson Cooper's show on CNN.

A number of friends, family and fellow officers have gotten together and formed a defense fund for Mike: The Michael Mette Defense Fund

I urge you to visit the site and look around; there are links to several articles and documents relating to the case. There is going to be a fundraiser on Thursday, August 23 if you live in the Chicago area.

Please donate something if you can. This is a good man going through a nightmarish experience, and he needs all the help and support he can get.

Thank you!

Hey baby...wanna party?

Where does the time go? I've just managed to get my head around the idea of the weekend being over, and here it is Wednesday already. And Wednesdays mean weenie-wavers.

This week's subject is 49 year old Richard Hedin of Pennsylvania. Cops found him when they were called to investigate a suspicious person. He was in a stranger's hot tub. Naked. Drunk. With a crack pipe.

I am happy to see a noteworthy freak emerge from the Keystone State. I wonder if he drove there from Virginia?

And the winner is...

It's a two way tie!



Yes, readers Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein and Dino aka Katy have tied, with 11 correct answers each. Well done! (Although, Dr. MVM, while I don't think Katy is doping, she might have had an unfair ethnic advantage. I'm just saying. You might want to have your people look into it.)

2nd place, also a tie, goes to Chris and Kirby, with 10 correct answers each. Great job!

3rd place went to MizBubs, with 9 correct answers, called out to me in person as she read the screen and handed me another beer.

I was thinking of a tie-breaking LIGHTNING ELIMINATION ROUND, but MizBubs informed me that the incest story about the brother & sister with 4 kids has been too widely publicized to be useful for such a purpose.

Here are the answers. Each "Germany" or "Florida" is a link to the item's original story, and I'll have a few comments at the end.

1. A man stabs his friend in the back with a fish. FLORIDA
   

2. A bus driver tries to kick a woman off his bus for being too hot. GERMANY
   

3. Police don't charge man who upset his neighbors by throwing a computer out the window. GERMANY
   

4. A man is arrested for beating his brother with a garden gnome. FLORIDA
   

5. Family members are arrested for giving alcohol to a 10 month old baby and videotaping it. FLORIDA
   

6. Zookeepers get in trouble for killing animals and selling them as meat. GERMANY
   

7. Police, alerted by neighbors complaining of a bad smell and uncollected mail, do a premise check expecting to find a corpse. They find a man with hygiene problems and dirty laundry. GERMANY
   

8. A hospital patient bit a nurse in the face and armpit when the nurse refused to give the patient more painkillers. FLORIDA
   

9. A naked tattooed woman is spotted gassing up her sports car and buying smokes. GERMANY
   

10. A man asks a passing police car for a ride, and gets arrested because he forgot to dump the weed he was carrying at the time. FLORIDA
    

11. A 480 pound woman dies after spending 6 years on the couch. FLORIDA
    

12. A 340 pound man is sentenced to 18 months in prison for repeatedly playing dine n' ditch. GERMANY
    

13. A stripper performs CPR on her customer after he falls out during her performance. FLORIDA
    

_____________________

Ok, a few things. No offense intended, but anyone who guessed "Germany" for # 5, or to a lesser extent, # 10, really needs to put a little more thought into this. I'm thinking of hosting some type of training program, including extensive reading and field work, to better acquaint some of y'all with the patterns and habits of F.W.T. (Florida White Trash). I may have to limit class size based on what kind of early-model porno'd-out conversion van I'm able to procure for transportation, and how big a trailer we'll be staying in while we're in the field. You'll have to bring your own Busch Light, crack and lottery tickets.

I had to leave some information out of the descriptions in order to not give things away. For instance, if I had specified "catfish" for question # 1, it would have immediately identified it as a Florida story. Some of you had some pretty good reasoning behind your choices, and some of the questions were tricky. Clearly, lots of people associate bad smells and poor hygiene more with Florida than Germany. People tend to associate garden gnomes and cannibalism or biting with Germany, and tattoos with Florida. It's easy to get those confused.

Johnny Yen brought up an interesting point when he picked # 11 as Germany, saying that someone that size would "only have lasted 3 years in Florida." Now, here's where it gets counterintuitive: a logical person would think that the insane heat and humidity of Florida would do in the morbidly obese faster, and that would seem to be reasonable. But if you've spent any time in the deep south, especially in Florida (although I'll put Louisiana up against any state in the union in the Gilbert Grape's mom-sized character department) you know that epic obesity goes with heat and humidity like Yoo Hoo goes with Moon Pies.

Finally, I'm pleased that two contestants went with the "it's all Florida" technique. Not a bad bet. Big Orange went with the straight "all Florida", which brought him 7 correct answers. Grant Miller, clearly taking advantage of his background in journalism, picked "all Florida" with the added caveat of identifying #6 as a German story. Well-played, Mr. Miller!

For those of you who got fewer than 5 correct...make sure you get on my mailing list so you can sign up for the Official S.R.C. Euro-Freak or Gator Trash Home Correspondence Course when it's released.

Thanks for playing the game!

Not today, terrorists. Not today.

Germany or Florida: Lucky 13 Update

There's still time to participate in yesterday's Germany or Florida contest. Click here to view the questions, or just scroll down, and place your choices in the comments!

So far we have 9 contestants, and there's currently a two-way tie for most correct. Two contestants have used the novel "all Florida" approach; where is the bold reader who will step up and say, proudly, "it's all Germany"?

Remember, if you don't play Germany or Florida, the terrorists have won.

I could sleep for a thousand years...

This is unexpected.

I was lucky enough to work days for three months straight, and the sleep was wonderful. Deep, satisfying and refreshing. Now, just a couple weeks into working evenings, I find myself all twitchy and restless. Exhausted, yeah, but restless.

MizBubs brought the new Chuck Palahniuk novel, Rant, home from the library for me and I've started that. We'll see how that goes. Ironically, one of the themes of the novel is the division of people, by curfew, into "daytimers" and "nighttimers."

So, fellow bloggers. Are you "daytimers" or "nighttimers"?

Germany or Florida: Lucky 13

It's been far too long since we've played Germany or Florida. From time to time I find and bookmark suitable news items, and then they sit in my “ideas for blog posts” file. And sit, and sit, dying the slow sad death of the unpublished blog post.

Not today, dammit!

Today is going to be different! Today, my life will have meaning! Today, I will use all those Germany or Florida stories!

Let's get started.

I will give you a list of news items with a brief description of each. You guess whether the story comes from Germany or Florida. On Tuesday or Wednesday I'll publish the original stories, and whichever lucky reader gets the most correct answers will get nothing and like it. No, wait, that doesn't sound right. Here, how's this: whoever gets the most correct answers will have the satisfaction of knowing he or she is the most discerning of SRC readers. I might even send the winner my award-winning recipe for pruno.

_____________________

Germany or Florida?

1. A man stabs his friend in the back with a fish.

2. A bus driver tries to kick a woman off his bus for being too hot.

3. Police don't charge man who upset his neighbors by throwing a computer out the window.

4. A man is arrested for beating his brother with a garden gnome.

5. Family members are arrested for giving alcohol to a 10 month old baby and videotaping it.

6. Zookeepers get in trouble for killing animals and selling them as meat.

7. Police, alerted by neighbors complaining of a bad smell and uncollected mail, do a premise check expecting to find a corpse. They find a man with hygiene problems and dirty laundry.

8. A hospital patient bit a nurse in the face and armpit when the nurse refused to give the patient more painkillers.

9. A naked tattooed woman is spotted gassing up her sports car and buying smokes.
   

10. A man asks a passing police car for a ride, and gets arrested because he forgot to dump the weed he was carrying at the time.

11. A 480 pound woman dies after spending 6 years on the couch.

12. A 340 pound man is sentenced to 18 months in prison for repeatedly playing dine n' ditch.

13. A stripper performs CPR on her customer after he falls out during her performance.

_____________________

I'd like to take a moment to thank Dena, Katy and Beth for sending me some good stories over the past couple of months.

See you tomorrow.

Sunday afternoon cocktails

Today's cocktail, courtesy of the clever and playful MizBubs, is:

The Frozen Watermelon Margarita

5 cups of watermelon, cubed and frozen
1 cup of tequila
1/2 cup of Cointreau or Triple Sec
1/2 cup of fresh lime juice
1/4 cup of sugar

• Put all the ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth.
• Pour into a margarita glass (we use wine glasses here at the Compound) and garnish with a chunk of watermelon.
• Enjoy!

_____________________

Honestly, there's just not enough time, and yet so many of us still find some to piss away instead of doing something useful with it.

My bride is the exception to this I think, at least this weekend. She set about re-organizing our dining room, which included cleaning out china cabinets and book cases.



And where did all that stuff go, at least for now? Our living room, of course:

For a while there our living room looked like the hotel room in Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas, only without the water damage and adrenachrome.

By the time cocktail hour rolled around today, she had it all straightened out, more or less. We got a big-ass box o' books headed for the library tomorrow, to be donated, and we filled our recycling bin with old magazines and papers.

Breathe easy, Bubs, it will all be better soon. Grab your drink and take a look out the front window. Enjoy the Brown-Eyed Susans. Get some sleep.

Given a choice

Given a choice, would you take Christian Clowns?

Or Christian nudists?

Before you choose, read this article:

Naked Before God

I'll leave it up to you to decide. Ministering clowns or Bible-believing nudists. I'll tell you this, though--at the rate things are going, Tennessee and Virginia are both well on the way to becoming the new Florida.

Freak of the Week

Our regular Weenie-Waver Wednesday feature is being folded into Freak of the Week, since I have to get out of here early to attend a boring seminar on workmen's compensation. There are two dental-themed stories this week (sorry Coaster Punchman, sorry Dale) and one interesting exhibitionist.

Here they are:

A Maine Dentist is trying to get her license back. She lost it for a number of reasons; was it the belly dancing costume, the booze-fueled office parties featuring naked boobies, or the botched oral surgeries? Who can tell...

A Singapore odd-job worker pled guilty to insulting a dentist's modesty: "While the dentist was scaling his teeth, he started making lewd remarks, moaning and groaning loudly while using his hands to caress his chest..."

I tried to find a mug shot of 60 year old Verle Peter Dills, but I failed. Mr. Dills was arrested after a neighbor complained about him lurking around his yard with a video camera and tripod. The police subsequently found "...the video camera and a “large amount” of 8mm and VHS video of Dills engaged in masturbation and sex acts with traffic signs near his home..."

Amputee Criminal Update

David Wiley, armless, one-legged and briefly famous for eluding police, is on his way to prison for 5 years.

Is there any bandwagon I won't jump on?

Probably. Just not today.

Dale already has a cool Simpsonesque avatar. Fabulous Chicago author Amy Guth has recently been Simpsonized.

South side bureau chief Dena, source of many of my favorite freak stories, has also undergone the transmogrification.

Now it's my turn. I present to you the Simpsonized Bubs, complete with my mutt Duffy:

Duffy is much more handsome in real life, but I think I benefited from my cartoon makeover. I lost some weight and have apparently gotten some impressive dental work done. I'm pictured here, tiki drink in hand, doing some field investigative work.

Oh. It turns out that Simpsonizing might be a cure for Shy Avatar syndrome.

Could it get any worse? Well, yes. It could.

Just a little update on the blog rating system that awarded yours truly an NC-17 yesterday:

I discovered that, while my NC-17 rating remains, the variety and frequency of offensive words cited in the rating change.

Here's the offensive word count as of 10:50 AM:

• retard (9x)
• sex (8x)
• dead (4x)
• corpse (3x)
• ass (2x)
• bastards (1x)

I have become more offensive by 1 retard, 1 sex, 3 corpses, 2 asses and 1 bastard. It looks like the extra corpses, asses and bastard have driven zombie, kill and crap off the chart.

Someone's degree in statistics is obviously being put to good use.