New Years Resolutions

So, here we are at that time of the year where everyone will begin to make their resolutions for the upcoming New Year. Typically, people will resolve to lose weight, get a better job, start exercising, etc. All of these things would certainly be nice, but I have a few non-traditional resolutions for 2010.

In no particular order, my resolutions are:

• To stop cursing so much. But it’s going to have to wait until football season is over.

• To stop putting things off for the day. Instead I will put them off indefinitely.

• To stop confusing Joan Rivers with the Joker from Batman.

• To start taking my camera with me to Wal-Mart. I have missed way too many Kodak moments over the past year!

• To buy bigger clothes. That diet thing isn’t working too well.

• To stop being so verbally abusive to telemarketers. I will try my best to simply hang up on them.

• To stop trying to understand why the fattest girls wear the “clingiest” clothes.

• To learn Spanish so I’ll be able to get through the line faster at the DMV.

• To stop being so hard on stupid people.

• To stay out of Home Depot. It almost always translates into extra work for me.

• To learn how I can qualify for some of that “government cheese”. Working every day and paying taxes doesn’t seem to be getting me anywhere.

• To buy a new bathroom scale. The current one seems to be off by 30-40 pounds.

• To drink more beer. Since I cut back on my drinking a couple of months ago, I’ve gained ten pounds. I guess there’s some kind of weight loss characteristic in alcohol?

• To be more open-minded. Yes, I’m always right, but I should at least humor people that aren’t as smart as me.

• To buy a snow blower. Working the old traditional shovel makes me feel so Amish.

• To buy more lottery tickets. Happiness is becoming an instant millionaire.

• To stay off of the dance floor when I’m drinking. It’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt.

• To cut back on Red Bull and sleeping pills. I’m starting to feel like Elvis.

• To stay away from spicy foods. As I get older, Old Bay seasoning gives a new meaning to fire in the hole!


I know it’s a tall list and I might not be able to accomplish everything. But a man must have goals!

I look forward to sharing more stories, rants and adventures in the upcoming year. Wishing all of you a safe and Happy New Year.

KW

A Tale of Two Kitties

Close to a year ago, Tina asked me if she could bring home two kittens. Knowing that her question was just a formality and I really didn’t have a say in the matter, I said “Sure, why not?”

So, enter the two new additions to our household. I’ll have to admit, they were actually very cute. They would wrestle each other and play with their assortment of toys before eventually falling asleep on top of one another. I was thinking that this might not be so bad after all.

These two kittens were from the same litter. One was black and the other was gray. We toyed around with names for them before finally settling on Lewis for the black one and Lester for the gray one. These are the middle names of Tina’s dad and my dad.

From the beginning, we could tell that Lewis was going to be a handful. He was the one that would always be in places where he shouldn’t be. Lester would just quietly watch him as if to say, “My brother is such a jackass!”

So, now that they’re close to being full grown, it’s not surprising that Lewis's escapades have escalated. For instance, like clockwork, he’ll wait until the middle of the night, and then start kicking a random object throughout the house. And he insists on only doing it on hard surfaces, to ensure that he produces the most volume. I’ll toss and turn with the hopes that Tina will eventually get up and take care it. But it never works out that way. Eventually, I’ll throw off the covers and head down the dark hallway in search of the little furry bastard. And it never fails; I’ll either knock something over or stub my toe. And to add fuel to the fire, Tina will yell, “Do you have to make so much noise?”

Then, I’ll fire back, “Hey it was your idea to bring these cats home! Why am I the one who’s up every night hunting for the phantom noise maker? This isn’t right!” Before I even finish my statement, Tina is already back asleep!

I have found Lewis with everything from razors to wedding rings. If it’s hard and has the potential to make noise, he’ll attempt to bounce it across the floor at 3 am!

Sometimes, while I’m walking across the room, Lewis will pounce on my leg like it’s a tree. Then, he’ll just hang from my jeans and look up at me. I’ll glance over to the laid-back Lester, and he’ll just look at me as if to say, “I dunno, I think our mother dropped him on his head when he was born.”

If I’m walking down the steps of our split-foyer house, Lewis will race to the upper landing in an attempt swat at me as I pass him on my way down the lower landing. I’ve now gotten into a habit of holding my hands over my head as I go down the steps. It’s ok at home, but I get funny looks when I’m in office buildings.

And this morning, I was abruptly awoken when Lewis jumped from our bedroom window sill onto my stomach. It was like getting sucker punched. As I headed out of the bedroom, Tina, just waking up, asked, "Why are you all doubled over?" At this point, I'm too fired up to even respond!

I don’t know what I’m going to do with this crazy cat. I’ve tried everything from loading his food dish with Tylenol PM’s to tossing him into the clothes dryer for a few spins. But nothing seems to work! (Before the ASPCA sends out the goon squad, I’m kidding!)

I must mention the time when I accidently locked Lewis in one of my dresser drawers. He spent several hours reading the labels of my Levi jeans before Tina eventually found him and set him free. She swears that I did it on purpose. But, as tempting as it might have seemed to me, it was truly an accident. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

I’m hoping Lewis will eventually settle down and maybe take on some of the easy going characteristics of Lester. But until then, I guess we’ll continue our nightly adventures…..


KW

Dare We Say Christmas?

I am so sick of the political correctness that has infected Christmas in America. It’s like the word “Christmas” is a dirty four-letter word these days. Pay attention to any of the “holiday” advertisements. See how many actually mention the word Christmas. I promise it won’t be many, if any at all!

I don’t understand this. Isn’t Christ the whole reason behind the Christmas celebration? So, why does everyone feel like they have to walk on eggshells when referencing December 25? In case anyone is wondering, the majority of Americans are still Christians. So, frankly, if people are offended by the word Christmas, that’s a problem that they should just have to deal with!

Most retailers are scared to death to mention the word Christmas in fear of offending a potential shopper or two. To those retailers, I’ve got news for you; you’re offending the majority of your potential shoppers when you practice political correctness. When I make a purchase and the cashier wishes me Happy Holidays, I make sure that I respond, “And you have a Merry Christmas as well”. And if I’m in jolly mood, I’ll sing them the chorus to O’ Come O’ Ye Faithful….

O’ come let us adore Him,
O’ come let us adore Him,
O’ come let us adore Him!
Christ The Lord.

If they get offended, they can kiss my Christmas-carolin’ ass.

You gotta love the public schools too. Several years ago, not surprising, they caved into political correctness too. The traditional Christmas break is now called the “winter holiday”. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the customary “Christmas play” can not have any Christmas songs that reference Christ. You know, songs like Away in the Manger, Silent Night, Hark The Herald Angels, etc. Nowadays, the only ones that are permitted are PC-approved songs like Frosty The Sensitive Snowman and Rudolf The Yellow-Bellied Reindeer. In places like California, you might even hear the fun-filled, Grandma Got Run Over By A Prius. Or perhaps you’ll be blessed with the slightly edited Bing Crosby classic, (I'm Dreaming of a) White Non-Denominational Holiday.

And employers are no different. Even though the overwhelming majority of their employees are Christians, most companies will not dare mention the word Christmas. No more company Christmas parties. We are now invited to “Holiday get-togethers”. What are companies afraid of? Can someone possibly sue because they’re offended by the word Christmas? I’m almost afraid to ask that question!

I have to wonder if Christmas will one day be abolished altogether. It seems we’re heading in that direction. Hey, maybe it will be replaced with an all-inclusive, non-discriminating holiday like Kwaanza!

If I had a dime for every time I’ve been offended, I’d have more money than Tiger Woods’ ex-wife! When I’m offended, I deal with it and move on. Ok, maybe I rant a little. But I don’t expect anyone to change on my behalf. People in this country need to loosen up! I find it ironic that those who claim to be the most “tolerant” are the same ones who seem to be the easiest to offend. I guess open-mindedness only works when it fits their agenda?

To anyone that may have been offended by any of this, I sincerely wish you a very Merry Christmas!


KW

Bread, Milk & Toilet Paper

Alright, in case anyone hasn’t noticed, it snowed! All you have to do is look out of your window. But it still doesn’t stop all of the television channels from dedicating 100% of their time to telling us what we already know. Have we not been through this before??

When it snows in Maryland, I’m both amazed and annoyed at the panic that immediately sets in. Here are just a few things that drive me nuts:

• We do the news people keep telling me, “If you don’t have to go out in this mess, stay home?” Even if it was sunny and 75 degrees, I probably wouldn’t go out if I didn’t have to. So, why do I have to be constantly reminded??

• I don’t understand why there is always a run on snow shovels. Did everyone lose their shovels since the last snowfall?

• This morning, I see on a news flash that the Maryland Zoo is closed today. Did we really need to be told this? I don’t know, maybe there’s a militant parent out there that would say, “Come on kids, don’t just see the polar bear. Be the polar bear!”

• Why do all of the neighbors seem so happy about shoveling snow? Some of them will even bring beer out and turn it into a big party. Maybe I should bring out a lawn chair and kick back with my own beer. Then, while pointing at my sidewalk, I’ll yell, “Hey guys, you missed a spot! Let’s get moving!”

• Why do the news reporters feel the need to interview people out in the snow? Are we really going to learn anything? Haven’t we all been out in the white stuff before? Do we really need to be reminded that it’s cold, slippery and wet??

• We are told to not leave our pets outside during the blizzard. If you have to be reminded of this, you shouldn’t own pets.

• The need to stock up on bread, milk and toilet paper. In my forty plus years of life, the snow has never confined me to my house for more than a couple of days. I think I’ll survive without an overstock of these three items. Even if I could justify the bread and the milk, the toilet paper really baffles me. It’s not like the snow makes me grab a magazine and say, “Hey honey, it’s snowing again. I’m going to be in the bathroom for a while!”

I don’t know why we even have to deal with this cold, nasty weather anyway. Didn’t Al Gore win a Nobel Peace Prize and an Academy Award for telling us that we’re in period of global warming? Maybe this snowstorm is just a myth. Hey Al, I just checked, and it's definitely not a foot of lava on my sidewalk. So, how about stopping by later and shoveling off whatever this cold white stuff is!

KW

A Farewell To Nana

We all had our memories of my grandmother or, as most people knew her, Nana. She was a special woman who touched the lives of many people in her 90 years of life. She made us laugh, made us cry and often made us say, “Huh??” But this is precisely why we loved her.

So, although this is a somber occasion, I’d like to celebrate the lighter side of Nana’s life. This is the way that I’d like to remember her……

Nana, no doubt, had a way with words. Some of her expressions we didn’t quite understand. But at the same time, we loved hearing her say them. Here are a few that come to my mind…

As a child, I was a bit overweight. I got teased quite a bit, so it’s not surprising that I was a little self-conscious about it. So, I'd go over to Nana's house to visit. A normal greeting from a grandmother would have been “Hello Kenny, it’s so nice to see you.” Or even, “Geez Kenny, you’re getting sooo big.” But not from my Nana. Instead I got, “Aww, there’s my fatsy-boom-ba-latsy!” Yeah, it sounds cute and innocent. But to a chubby seven year old, it was devastating!

And if Nana would sense that I was upset, she would just smile and say “Gee, Manetti!” Oddly enough, it was comforting to hear her say this. But to this day, I still have no idea who Mr. Manetti is or what Nana’s fascination was with him.

Every now and then, Nana would get fired up about something. You might see her pointing her finger or maybe flailing her arms.  But when she threw in an emphatic “Go, da!”, you knew you pushed her to the limit. This was another mystery, because she would never really tell us where she wanted us to go. But we had an idea…..

Some grandmothers take up knitting. Others might dabble in the garden. My grandmother was a beer drinker. And she wasn’t any ordinary beer drinker. You see, she only liked her beer in a sixteen ounce can. The reason she told us, was that the traditional twelve ounce cans were just a tease. One sip and it’s all gone. I had a dream one time where Nana was knocking back beers with a motorcycle gang. In this dream, the bikers were saying, “Slow down Nana, save some for the rest of us!”

Nana was a little intimidated by modern technology. She never had cable TV, VCR or even an answering machine. And I don’t think she ever owned anything digital. To this day, she still has one of the old rotary dial phones. When we offered to get her modern push-button phone years ago, she refused by saying, “Gee Manetti, all those buttons are too confusing. ”

On a serious note…..

Nana was one of the most caring people that I ever met. She had a strong belief in God and prayed for everyone. When Ken Jr. was deployed in Iraq last year, Nana used to pull me aside and say, "Ken, have you heard from little Kenny lately? You know, I pray for that boy everyday." And there was no doubt that she did. And even though she had her own health issues over the years, she always worried more about other people than about herself.

When her health really started to decline a couple of years ago, Nana went to live with my sister, Karen. And although this would surely come with added stress and responsibility, Karen wouldn’t have it any other way. As trying as it was, she watched after our grandmother until her final day. Karen has a heart of gold and her big brother is very proud of her.

And it would have been really easy for Tim (my brother-in-law) to get frustrated with the disruption to the normal routine. But he never did. Instead, he supported Karen one hundred percent. Tim, you're a good man and I'm glad you're a part of my family.

During all of this, Kelly (also known as “my other sister”) went way beyond the call of duty, especially during Nana’s final days. I can’t say enough good things about you, Kelly. You are a true friend.

And Kathy, this goes for you too. Even though your plate was full with your own things, you were always there when Karen needed a hand.. Our family can't thank you enough.

Over the past week, many people passed through Karen and Tim’s house to say their final goodbyes to our grandmother. And although it was chaotic at times, it was touching to see all the people that cared about her. Nana will truly be missed.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what kind of car you drive, how big of a house you live in or how much money you have in the bank. If you don’t have family and friends, you’ll die poor.

Yesterday afternoon, Nana danced through the gates of heaven a very rich lady…..


KW

Christmas - A Lost Tradition

When I was younger, I really looked forward to this time of year. Christmas decorations were everywhere and there was a feeling of festivity in the air. And generally, people just seemed to be in a better mood between Thanksgiving and the New Year.

Although this is still somewhat true, it has diminished considerably over the years. Instead of people feeling festive and euphoric, many feel nothing but stress. There are various reasons but there a few that stand out to me.

For one, the pressure to go out and spend, spend, spend has gotten out of control. I’m not sure when the primary goal of Christmas became gift exchanging. But that’s pretty much what it’s all about anymore. Just look at the overload of advertisements from the retailers during the Christmas season. Lexus even has one now….”Give that special person a gift that they’ll remember forever”. Are you kidding me? Who can afford to give a $60,000 car as Christmas gift?

And to make your kids happy on Christmas morning, you pretty much have to take a second mortgage out on your house. Video games, I-Pods, digital cameras, cell phones, etc. These things aren’t cheap. And it’s not like the kids will be satisfied with one of these gadgets. They want them all! And not only do they want them, they expect them.

To compound this problem, this is the time of the year where companies traditionally try to trim their expenses. Of course, this usually involves job cuts. For the past fifteen years, instead of feeling festive, I feel mostly anxiety. Never knowing if the company will send any or all of us a special “cost-cutting Christmas gift” is the primary reason for this.

I am not a politically correct person. So, it really ticks me off when I hear businesses and organizations refer to Christmas as "the holidays". The "Christ" in Christmas is there for a reason. What idiot decided that the word "Christmas" might be considered offensive? Frankly, I couldn't care less if someone finds it offensive. Deal with it. (I could go on and on about this, but I want to stay on my main point).

With all of this being said, here’s my biggest problem with Christmas today. Simply, it has lost its meaning. For those who might not know, the primary purpose of Christmas is to commemorate the birth of Jesus Christ. Although December 25 is not necessarily the day Christ was born, nonetheless, it’s the day most Christians celebrate it.

Unfortunately, the birth of Christ has been overshadowed by the arrival of a fat guy in a red and white suit named Santa Claus. Ask any kid to expalin the meaning of Christmas. Most will tell you that it means that Santa Claus is bringing them boatloads of toys. And that’s pretty much it.

I’m not an overly religious person. But I just find Christmas in America to be so hypocritical anymore. Jesus is the reason for the season. So, why isn't He the primary focus? I don’t think that overindulging each other in expensive gifts was part of the original plan.

I’ll end on a positive note. If there is one thing I still like about Christmas, it’s that people tend to treat each other nicer. And I do believe that this was part of the original plan. If we can do it for one day, how about we try to do it everyday?

I hope everyone has a safe and very Merry Christmas……

KW

Section 8 - The Decline of an American Neighborhood

Home ownership is part of the American dream. Most of us go to work everyday in order to achieve this kind of dream. After all, who doesn’t want a place they can proudly call home?

So, we save our money from a young age and eventually accumulate enough to make that down payment on our first piece of Americana. It doesn’t matter if it’s a brand new home or a “fixer-upper”. It’s yours and you’re proud of it. You might make improvements to it over time. Perhaps you’ll build a garden or install a swimming pool. You maintain your property and make it look as nice as possible. After all, your home is a reflection of you.

BUT STOP RIGHT THERE……………………

While you’re taking pride in your own home, Uncle Sam is busy moving Fred Sanford and his trailer full of crap into the house across the street. So here it begins: the decline of the American neighborhood…….

Day One

I watch as the graffiti splattered moving van rolls onto my street. It’s followed by what I’m assuming will be my new neighbors. I’m not really sure of what model car they’re driving. It’s got a primer colored hood, tinted glass and low profile tires with spinner rims. The thought of having to look at this piece of shit every night makes me a bit nauseous.

So they get out of the “car”, and my attention is now drawn to the loud rap music from the car stereo. I can’t understand every word, but the word “f*ck” seems to be pretty prevalent. And, of course, my new neighbors seem to know every word as they dance to the beat in the middle of the street. Even though there are only two of them, they make the noise of a stadium crowd. I close the door and try to pretend this isn’t happening.

Day Three

My new neighbors are now moved in. They’ve had several friends come by and visit them over the past 24 hours. Some even came rolling by at 2:00 in the morning. And everyone seems to feel the need to blow their horn several times to announce their arrival. Of course, I wake up every time this happens.

Day Seven

It’s Saturday, and from the looks of the old grill on the front lawn, I assume my new neighbors are preparing for a cook-out. I cringe at the thought. By noon, the guests start showing up. Their cars block several of my other neighbor’s drive-ways. The party soon swings into to full gear. To say its loud would be an understatement. Thuderous would be a better way of desribing it. Empty beer cans and half eaten plates of food begin to litter the street. The party continues well into the night. The first police cars start showing up around 10 pm. Shortly afterwards, the party finally ends.

Day Fifteen

The house is already starting to show signs of decay. There’s at least one broken window and the grass is about a foot high. The weight bench on the front lawn will definitely make the house easy to find for future cook-out guests.

Day Eighteen

I go out to get my mail and find a half eaten slice of pepperoni pizza in my mailbox. I can’t help but think that my new neighbors had something to do with it.

Day Thirty

My new neighbors have decided that it makes more sense to park their ugly car on the front lawn than on the street. So, in addition to the high weeds and trash, I now have to look at their new lawn ornament everyday.

Day Forty-Five

I get a knock at the front door. I’m shocked to see that it’s my new neighbor. Reluctantly, I open to door to see what this asshole possibly wants from me. He tells me that he’s having another cook-out today and wants to know if he can “hold” my lawn mower. I politely tell him to screw off and then close the door.

A few hours later, it appears that one of the other neighbors lent the asshole a lawn mower. There are huge mounds of grass scattered over his lawn and sidewalk. In fact, you can hardly see the sidewalk. I’m not sure which was worse, this or the twelve inches of weeds!

As the guests begin to roll up, things get louder and louder. One guy pulls up and gets out with a pit bull. The dog immediately bolts and proceeds to take a dump right in the middle of another neighbor’s manicured lawn. The thought of picking it up never enters the dog owner’s mind. He takes a swig of his 40 ounce beer and acts like nothing happened.

The party has barely gotten started and the police begin to arrive. This goes on several times throughout the day. It’s not until a brawl breaks out in the middle of the street that the cops finally shut the party down. I can’t get that song out of my mind, “Bad boys, bad boys, what cha gonna do when they come for you….”

Day Fifty

I awaken to the sound of a fire truck siren and flashing red lights. Apparently, there’s been a fire of some kind at the Section 8 house. I later find out that my new neighbors fell asleep with the crack pipe burning. The master bedroom is pretty much destroyed. The owners will be overjoyed to hear this.

Day Sixty

Things have been fairly quiet. Interestingly enough, no one has come or gone from the house in over a week. I’m beginning to think that my new neighbors might be dead. My luck might finally be changing!

Day Sixty-Five

As I drive past my neighbors’ house today, I’m instantly hit with the “good news/bad news” feeling. The bad news is that the front lawn looks like a tornado just stuck. There is furniture and clothes scattered everywhere. The good news is that I’m officially informed that my Section 8 neighbors are finally gone!

Things are good again……until the government foots the bill for the next bunch of social rejects!

KW

Closing Firehouses

As I watch the morning news this morning, I hear about three Baltimore City fire houses that will close up in about a month. Of course, the residents in these communities are upset because this will surely mean longer response times by emergency personnel. I can certainly understand their concern.

Of course, the closings are a result of money problems in the city government. This shouldn’t be that surprising when you have a Mayor who steals gift cards from the needy.

I have some solutions to cope with the vanishing firehouses. First off, how about we stop shooting each other? Studies have shown that individuals without bullet wounds tend to not need the services of paramedics as much as those with a "cap busted in their ass". Since someone gets shot in "the city that bleeds" every day, we could avoid over three hundred 911 calls per year just by cutting out the shootings.

Let’s cut out the drug abuse. This will eliminate most of those pesky overdose calls. And on the same note, there are plenty of fires started every year by idiots passing out with the crack pipe burning. Put the pipe down and save an emergency call.

And to the street walking ladies of Baltimore, let’s stop selling your bodies for a drug fix. Not only is it degrading, it's extremely unhealthy. Your need for a paramedic will decrease dramatically if you don’t get in cars with strange men. Didn’t your parents teach you this when you were a kid??

Stop hanging out aimlessly on the street corner and get a job. The need for a paramedic is far less likely while you’re being productive in the workplace than while you acting like a twelve year old on the street.

Stop speeding through city traffic on dirt bikes. Not only are the police tired of chasing you, the paramedics are tired of scraping your ass off of the pavement.

And lay off of the lake trout. I have no idea what lake trout is, but I’m thinking that it can’t be good. So, leave it alone and possibly save yourself a trip to the hospital.


KW

Another Wal-Mart Adventure

I've voiced my fascination with Wal-Mart in the past. But it’s now reached another level for me. I’ve gotten to the point where I’m actually terrified of the place. This became evident to me yesterday…..

I dropped by the local Wal-Mart yesterday to pick up a few things. This, in itself, wasn’t an easy decision. I went back in forth in mind whether I should be just pay an extra few bucks and go to Target. But the cheap-skate in me finally won out. And into Wal-Mart I went.

I don’t really have a good explanation of what happened next. All I know is I walked through the door, took a quick glance at the surrounding shoppers, then I experienced some type of panic attack. Almost immediately, I felt as if I was just dropped into the set of The Night of the Living Dead (except many of these “zombies” had mullets). I try not to prejudge people, but this is truly the way I saw it.

It didn’t take long for me to break out in a nervous sweat and I had an instant urge to run out of there. I looked towards the exit door, but it was blocked by a crowd of shoppers and an cranky Wal-Mart employee who was checking receipts. They would probably catch me if I made a run for it. I’m not sure if they would eat me, beat me or simply release me. But I wasn’t taking any chances.

So, I had to improvise……..

Keep in mind, I was really confused and disoriented. My only thoughts were, “I’ve got to try to fit in with these people and I’ve got to make them think that I’m one of them!”

So, not having long enough hair to imitate a mullet, I simply ruffled it to give myself that “just woke up” look. To accent this look, I dropped my lower jaw and left my mouth open. I drooled a little too. To add a little flair, I started to drag my right leg behind me. At this point, I really started to believe in myself.

Now, keep in mind, if I put on this kind of charade anywhere else, I would probably be committed. But here, no one even batted an eye. My new look must have been totally convincing.

So, I circle around and hobble towards the exit door. During my initial escape attempt, I knock over one of those “Roll Back the Prices” signs with the big yellow smiley face. This obviously draws unwanted attention to me. From the looks of some of the shoppers, you would have thought I just kicked a puppy. I can’t help but think that the big Wal-Mart smiley face is some kind of religious symbol to them. As if I wasn't already upset enough, now I'm thinking that I might have committed some kind of sin!

In an attempt to "apologize", I rock back and forth and smack myself in the head several times. Amazingly, this works! And the shoppers immediately go back into their trance.

After what seems like an eternity, I approach the exit. I have to wait for a distraction before I attempt the final escape. As luck would have it, one of the cashiers forgot to remove the anti-theft tag off of some dude's WrestleMania DVD. As the guy goes through the exit door, alarms and lights start going off. Thank you, God! I immediately run through the door like an NFL full back busting through the goal line.

After I make it through the door, I keep on running. I don’t even look back. I jump into my car and leave rubber on the parking lot. I barley miss an incoming shopper who's driving towards me on riding lawn mower. Once I finally hit the open road, the emotion hits me like a ton of bricks. I realize that this could have been the end for me.

Is this an isolated event? Or has anything like this ever happened to you?


KW

Let It Snow?

So, after Mr. Meteorologist tells us to expect a few flurries, I’ve been watching it snow for the past four hours. The only good thing is that it doesn’t appear to be accumulating on the sidewalks and streets. (For now!)

(By the way, why do weathermen instantly become rock stars whenever there's a little snow?)

I used to like snow when I was a kid. It would often us get out of school for the day. And that was reason enough to appreciate it. It would also allow us to get our sleds out and hit the hills of Garrett Park. And when we got tired of dragging our sleds up the hill, the snow provided us with an endless supply of ammo to throw at passing cars. (As a kid, this got me in more trouble than I care to mention. A strong word of advice: Don’t ever throw a snowball at a police car!)

But I’m an adult now. And as much as I’d still like to hurl a hard-packed snowball at certain individuals, I don’t do it. So, it doesn’t leave much use for the white stuff anymore. I’ll tell you what it does do. It makes my day much more complicated and raises my blood pressure.

I can't belive that people actually wish for this stuff. What good is it? For instance, here am I minding my own business, then BAM! I’ve got eight inches of velvety, white bullshit to shovel off of my sidewalk! I didn’t ask for this! Why should I have to shovel it?

But I know the drill by now. So, I grab my shovel and head out the front door cursing. And inevitably, while I’m breaking my back trying to get rid of this stuff, someone will stop and ask me, “So, do you think we’ll get any more tonight?” Do I look like Norm freggin’ Lewis? How the hell do I know??

After the shoveling is done, I’m usually in a less than good mood. Besides having an aching back, I know I’m going to have to eventually drive in this mess. In this case, it’s not the snow that bothers me as much as my fellow Maryland drivers. I will never understand this. People in this area are certainly no strangers to snow. But as soon as the first flurries begin to fall, everyone (except for me, of course!) suddenly turns into Mr. Magoo! If I had a large truck with a plow, there would be a lot of cars stuck in the roadside ditches. I would simply push them out of my way. You see, I have places to be.

And I hate when the snow appears in the middle of the night. This is usually when I’ll get called in extra early for work. Then I have to deal with an inch of ice on my windshield. Sometimes, I’ll just stand there looking at it, as if it’s just going to magically disappear. After a few minutes, I’ll shake my head and mumble, “I can’t believe this bullshit" as I head back into the house to find my ice scraper.

And don’t even get me started on the massive runs on the grocery stores when snow is in the forecast. I’m totally convinced that the weathermen and the grocery chains are in cahoots. When sales are down, just forecast snow! Problem solved!

Hey, you might think that I’m being a bit ridiculous. But until someone volunteers to shovel my walk, scrape the ice off of my windshield and chauffer me around, I’m going to continue to complain!


KW

The New American Business Model

To say that the workplace in America has changed would be a tragic understatement. The good old days of companies’ adequately staffing their departments are a thing of the past. Nowadays, the business model is to reduce the workforce and do more with less.

And to make matters worse, this is all happening while the unemployment rate is over 10%. So, while there is an obvious business need for most companies to hire, they refuse to do so. In fact, many companies will look at ways to lay more people off!

A little of over twenty years ago, I decided to hang up my tool belt and go into the field of Information Technology. So, I enrolled in a local technology school, graduated and started in what I thought would be a secure career. After all, computers were the future. There would always be jobs in this field, right? Not quite.

While many construction jobs in this country have been hijacked by illegal immigrants, countless jobs in the technology sector have been outsourced overseas, primarily India. Of course, it’s all done in the name of the almighty dollar. The modern day American business owner has no loyalty to this country. If he can save a few bucks by having a guy named Haji halfway around the world to support his customers, he won’t hesitate to do it.

One of the number one customer complaints, when it comes to customer service, is that they can’t understand the person on the other end of the phone. And how do companies respond to this? They outsource even more jobs to India! In other words, if the customer has a problem with it, they’ll just have to brush up on their foreign language skills.

And the old days of “the customer is always right” is a thing of the past. I’ve seen it all over the place. If that new appliance you just bought doesn’t work, good luck on getting things fixed. In the old days, the retailer would jump through hoops to make things right. Today, you’re lucky if you can even get someone on the phone. And if you’re lucky enough to speak to an actual person, be prepared for a confrontation. It's like the whole country has turned into used car salemen!

Customer service has deteriorated across the board. This is evident even in something as simple as ordering a cheeseburger. Pay attention the next time you order something in a fast food restaurant. The kid behind the counter will usually mumble incoherently while he/she is taking your order. And don’t expect them to smile either. That would be asking way too much! (I have to mention that Chick-Fil-A is the exception in this case. The owner of that company still understands that successful businesses are built on positive customer experiences. For that reason, I'll continue order the number one with a Diet Dr. Pepper).

And what is the end result of all of this?

1. American workers will continue to lose their jobs.
2. Those lucky enough to keep their jobs can expect heavier workloads with no additional pay.
3. Workforce morale will greatly suffer.
4. Quality of manufacturing and service will deteriorate.
5. Customer satisfaction will continue to decline.

I'm not sure when all of this started or what caused us to get to this point. But I'd be willing to bet that greed and corruption played a major part. Sadly, I think we may have sold our future down the river in order to save a few bucks today.

Welcome to the new way of doing business in America……

KW

Black Friday - A Survivor's Story

It never fails. On the busiest shopping day of the season, I find myself needing some mundane item. Last year it was an extension cord. This year it happened to be a cable for my computer. Could I live without these things for a day or two? Maybe. But I decided to venture into the stores anyway.

As I pull up into the Best Buy parking lot, I can tell it’s going to be an adventure. There are countless cars roaming around looking for parking spaces. It kind of reminds me of sharks searching for a baby seal. Eventually, I pull into a spot at the far end of the parking lot. The thought of walking a mile and a half to the store starts to discourage me. Immediately, the old Clash song, “Should I Stay Or Should I Go” starts pounding through my brain.

As I approach the store, I can tell that this was a bad idea. People are actually squeezing through the front door sideways! So, I follow suit and squeeze my big ass through there as well. Once I’m inside, I immediately wish I was outside. The place is absolutely jam packed! This has to violate every fire code law there is. But, in the name of profitability, the shopping must go!

The whole scene is surreal. I haven’t seen so many people carrying TV’s since the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina! Even pre-school kids are carrying huge video game boxes as they bump into everyone yelling, “Mom! Can I get this? Please!!”

I make my way to the section where the computer cables are. Of course, there’s a group of people blocking my way. So, I start jumping up and down as if I'm on a pogo stick in order to find the right cable. I'm red as a beet and out of breath, but I finally see it. Quickly adapting to my new surrounding, I lunge over top of the hostile crowd and try to snatch the cable. The first time I miss, and it’s a little embarrassing. At least five people turn and look at me as if to say, “What the hell are you doing??”

So, I play it off for a minute or two, hoping everyone will forget about me. Taking short controlled breaths like an Army sniper, I try to time my next lunge more carefully. This time, I knock over a middle-aged woman with a mullet haircut (I was in Glen Burnie). An unfortunate civilian casualty. The good news is that I snatched the cable! In one fluid motion, I stumble toward the exit. I looked like Rocky after he went a few rounds with Apollo Creed.

And just when I think that there’s light at the end of the tunnel, I see the check out line. To my horror, it’s backed up to the end of the store! Now, what? Do I wait in line for three hours to pay for a $10 cable? I never advocate stealing, but the thought of sticking this thing in my pocket and stumbling out the door does indeed cross my mind. I figure that even if I get caught, I'd be out of the police station in less time than I'd spend  in this line. But, even under these most trying circumstances, I can’t do it.

So, I scan the endless check out line for someone I can connect with. I overhear two guys near the front of the line having a political conversation. I listen closely  to see if their from the left or right. Then I hear one of them referring to Nancy Pelosi with a barrage of four letter words. My big break! So, I nonchalantly chime in with, “You got that right!” It doesn’t take long before I’m fully engaged in their conversation. In fact, I take over their conversation. Before you know it, they’re patting me on the back and giving me high-fives. I sensed that the rest of the line was whispering, "Look at that asshole."  But to my two new friends, I was the man!

Shortly afterwards, my new friends’ are called to the register to check out. I immediately shift gears, hand them ten bucks and say, “Damn guys, I enjoyed our conversation so much, I forgot all about this cable. Could you do me a favor?"

Of course, they said, “Absolutley!” And I was home free! For a split second, I felt a little guilt. But it quickly passed.

My friends, this is a survival story. Due to my quick thinking and total disregard for my own safety, I won this battle. Many others aren’t so lucky. Shopping on Black Friday is an extremely dangerous endeavor. If you choose to venture out, proceed with extreme caution. Please heed my warning…


KW

A Day Of Giving Thanks

So, here I am on another Thanksgiving morning. I’ve been here a time or two before, so I pretty much know what the day has in store for me. In a few hours, I’ll be gorging myself on what will seem like a never ending supply of holiday food. And then, I’ll inevitably say, “Man, I can’t believe I ate all that!”

On this day, I’m obviously thankful to have a wonderful family and great network of friends. But I’d like to take a moment to give thanks for some things that we have a tendency to overlook. Bear with me….

I’d like to give thanks to the following:

• The turkey on my dinner table for making the ultimate sacrifice for our dinner pleasure. All I can say is, “You da man!”

• The rainy weather that prevents me from raking up the leaves before our holiday guests arrive.

• GlaxoSmithKline for making the Tums that I’ll surely need lately.

• My DVR so I won’t be lulled to sleep watching the Detroit Lions on the traditional 1:00 game.

• Wal-Mart for providing all of us with a source of entertainment all year long.

• Screwy Louie for lighting up B&A Blvd with his bicycle on those dark foggy nights (you have to live in Glen Burnie to understand this).

• 7-11 for keeping their doors open today just in case I have a sudden urge to grab a Chili Cheese Big Bite.

• My slippers for giving me something to throw at Tina’s cats when they try to steal a piece of turkey.

• Sweatpants for their expandability

• Black Friday shoppers for continuing to amaze me.

• Tupperware for sending the tons of today's leftovers out of here.

• All of the rednecks who park their cars on their front lawns. This leaves more street parking for my guests.

On a serious note. I’d like to sincerely give thanks to all of our men and women of the US Armed Forces. It’s because of them that we are able to live in a free society and enjoy days like today. We too often take this for granted. Keep in mind; while you’re spending Thanksgiving with your family, many of our troops are a half a world away working to keep us safe. Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers……..


KW

My Introduction To Southern Culture

Just so nobody gets the wrong idea; I want to set the record straight. I love southern people. To me, they are the most genuinely friendly people in this country. They live simple lives, pull their own weight and are generally happy. Southern culture is truly part of Americana.

But, by God, it does take some getting used to.......

With that being said, I would like to illustrate how I was introduced to southern culture. You see, my father was born and raised in the city of Winston-Salem, NC. (Yes, this is where the name of the cigarettes came from). My dad and his sister eventually moved up to Maryland but the rest of his family remained in North Carolina. So, growing up, we would often go down to visit them.

To say that it was a culture shock would probably be any understatement. Honestly, this was like a different world to me. For instance, the vocabulary is something that took me a while to grasp. One time I asked where the bathroom was, and one of my aunts replied, “It’s over yonder.” First of all, I had no idea what “yonder” meant and I was afraid to ask. And secondly, she was pointing out the window!

So, my young mind began to race and I explained that I had no clue what she just said. My aunt then smiled and said, “I recken y’all don’t have outhouses in the city, huh?” At this point, not only was I confused, but scared too! Did she just say outhouse? She’s got to be joking, right? To my horror, she wasn’t!

So, I decided that I would not go the bathroom for the entire weekend. If this meant not eating or drinking, so be it. I would prefer to deal with the hunger rather than find out what’s behind the mystery door of the outhouse!

Well, dinner time came around, and after skipping lunch, I was a bit hungry. So, I sat down with the rest of the family at the dinner table. There was plenty of food but I really didn’t recognize much of it. There was something called collard greens (or collards). In another bowl was something called okra. And the only bread was this heavy dry stuff called cornbread. But what really blew my mind were the fried pork brains. I couldn’t believe that they were really going to eat these. At this point, I realized that not eating for the whole weekend might be as bad as I thought!

Later that evening, I asked if I could have a soda. With a confused look on her face, my aunt left and returned with a box of Arm & Hammer baking soda. When I explained that I was looking for a Coke or a Pepsi, she said, “Oh, you want a pop.” I was really starting to doubt that I would make it through the weekend.

It was during this time, that I was trying to keep track of everyone’s name. I was used to normal names like John, Jim, Mary, Sue, etc. So, when I started hearing names like Myrtle, Alvin, Patsi and Jim-Bob, it threw me for a loop. I also had an uncle named Cotton. And I think it’s an unwritten rule that every family must refer to one of their kids as Junior.

Upon visiting one of my uncle’s homes, I got to hang out with my cousins and some of the other local kids. At one point, I noticed a really cute girl. Although I was only eight years old, I figured I could impress her with my charm and sophistication. So, I proceeded to tell her all about my cool Huffy bike and baseball card collection. Instead of responding, she reaches down and grabs a Styrofoam cup and spits into it! And not only was it just spit, it was this nasty looking brown spit. I was speechless! She might as well have turned into Medusa and sprouted snakes from her head!

I immediately ran over to one of my cousins and said, “Did you see what that girl just did? She spit out a bunch of brown crap into a cup!” My cousin just smiled and reached into his back pocket and pulled out a “pouch” of something called Red Man and said, “Here, you wanna chew?”

At this point, I was waiting for the banjo-playing kid from Deliverance to drop out of the sky! I ran into the house and told my parents, “Please take me back to the city. I'm scared!!”

I managed to survive the weekend, and went back for many more visits over my childhood. Eventually, I adapted to their culture and learned to deal with it. I found out that these people were exactly what John Denver was talking about in his song “Thank God I’m A Country Boy”.

Ironically, after my initial exposure to southern culture, I respect these people more than anyone. Most southern folks would give you the shirt off of their back and expect nothing in return. There’s something to be said for that……


KW

The Senior Bikers Of Glen Burnie

I could probably write a book on the idiosyncrasies of the place I used to call home, Glen Burnie, MD. But I’ll save that chore for another day. Today, I’m going to address the rather peculiar phenomenon of old men and mopeds.

Yes, that’s right, silly old men impeding traffic around town driving these silly looking “bikes”. If you get stuck behind one of them, don’t plan on getting anywhere on time. Because I’m guessing these things top out at an annoying 10 miles per hour. That’s great if you’re ten years old, but how can a grown man feel good about that?

These guys are in a class by themselves. I’m not sure if I would call them a gang. But I guess you could consider them some type of club. And their clubhouse is the local Dunkin’ Donuts. You’ll see their “bikes” neatly lined up out front as the members congregate inside over endless cups of coffee. I can only imagine what they talk about.

The typical “biker” looks something like this: Long gray hair, full beard, flannel shirt, faded "hi-water" jeans and old dirty tennis shoes. Occasionally, one might wear a pair of work gloves or a scarf. My guess is that they're going for that "homeless" look. And there always seems to be an object strapped behind the seat for the world to see. It could be anything from a bottle of Geritol to a blow-up doll. Yes, it’s strange. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!

When these guys decide to go on a “run”, they inevitably piss off all of the drivers with real vehicles. And let me tell you, Glen Burnie isn’t the most forgiving place. You’ll hear terms of endearment like, “Hey, you old bastard, get the f*ck out of my way!” And one time, I saw someone roll down their window and chuck a Mountain Dew can at one of the poor bastards. Of course, the old men are oblivious to the whole situation.

It doesn’t take long for a long line of cars to collect behind one of these guys. I’m wondering if this has ever made the official traffic reports. I can hear it now: “We’ve got some slowing on the east side of 695 due to some road work. And, this just in, we’ve got a three mile backup on B&A Blvd. due to some clueless asshole on a moped!”

I did have the rare occasion of seeing a young guy on a moped recently. But being in Glen Burnie, you know there’s a twist. Sure enough, the guy weighed about 350 pounds! Both halves of his ass where spilling over each side of the seat. It looked like Fudgy The Whale trying to swallow the Gordon’s fisherman! And the worst part about it is that we were going uphill! I have to admit, I really felt sorry for the poor moped. But somehow, after what seemed like a week, the guy finally made it up the hill. I guess he bought the model with the diesel engine.

Anyway, I think you can see how ridiculous this whole thing can be. Just beware if your driving through….


KW

If I Was The Man

I’ve often wondered what I could do to make the world a better place. More particularly, what I could do to make our country a better place. And even though I love the passion and excitement of a heated political arena, I don’t think I could ever make it as a politician. For the simple reason, I don’t do political correctness.

So, for what it’s worth, I’d like to share some of my ideas on how I would handle things if I were in charge. As you’ll see, I would not likely be the most popular leader. But no one ever makes it to the top without pissing off a few people. In no particular order, here are my ideas for a better country:


1. The War on Terror (or whatever politically correct moniker Obama gives it these days) will now be known as The War on Radical Islam. If Muslims are offended, too bad. I'm offended when Islamic fundamentalists fly planes into our buildings. The last time I checked, it wasn't the Mormon Tabernacle Choir who was obsessed with blowing us up.

2. Effective immediately, anyone convicted of molesting a child gets the mandatory death penalty. This especially goes for pedophile priests! To me, there’s nothing worse than some monster who robs a child of their innocence.

3. Judges would have to take responsibility for the murderers, rapist and pedophiles that they turn back out to society. If the judges truly believe that these people are “rehabilitated”, they'd better be ready to answer for them!

4. English will be the official language of the United States. If you want to continue to speak Spanish, stay south of the border, amigo!

5. Anyone in this country illegally will be arrested and ultimately deported. There will be neither amnesty nor road to citizenship. If you want to become a citizen, come through the gates legally. And any businesses caught employing illegals will face stiff penalties.

6. There will be term limits for Senators. I think it’s ridiculous to watch a 90 year old man in the Senate struggling to stay awake.

7. There will be strict oversight on welfare recipients. Anyone caught committing welfare fraud will be hit with stiff penalties. I’m sick of footing the bill for their sorry asses! On top of this, welfare recipients will be required to complete some type community service. Every effort will be made on the government’s behalf to train these people for some type of vocation. Feeling sorry for these folks doesn’t do them a bit of good. Teaching them a job skill and instilling pride does!

8. There will be tax breaks for married couples. Children that grow up in a household with a mother AND father tend to be more successful. It’s about time that we get back to some traditional values!

9. There will be federal conceal and carry laws that allow law abiding citizens to sufficiently arm themselves. Because nothing stops a bad guy with a gun better than a good guy with a gun!

10. Animal cruelty will be treated as a felony. There’s no absolutely no reason for abusing an animal and strict penalties will be enforced. On this same note, NFL quarterbacks will not be rewarded with multi-million dollar contracts after they've commited animal abuse.

11. There will no more bailouts of the car companies. Instead, there will be large tax incentives to buy American cars. For example, buy a GM car and get a $5000 tax credit. Cars will sell, buyers will get a break and the tax payer doesn’t get stuck with the bill. It’s a win-win-win!

12. Convicted drug offenders will have two choices: mandatory rehab or jail. You say this is harsh and drug abuse is a victimless crime? See if you feel the same way when Kerry the crack addict does $1000 damage to your work truck and delivers all of your tools to the local pawnshop!

13. CIA interrogators will be allowed to do what they need to do to get information from terror suspects. War is ugly and sometimes you’ve got to get your hands a little dirty. If it saves American lives, it's worth it!

14. Soldiers in the field will not have to fear prosecution from their own government for following orders. We have the best military in the world and our commanders will be trusted to do the right thing!


Obviously, the list could be considerably longer. But I have plenty of time to come up with more stuff before Election Day!


KW

Coming To America

Only liberals like Barrack Hussein Obama could justify giving terrorists like Khalid Sheik Mohammed protection under the American judicial system. In other words, treat him just like he was an American citizen.

So, today Attorney General Eric Holder announced that Mohammed (the mastermind of the Sept. 11 attacks) will be tried in a New York courthouse. This particular courtroom happens to be right down the street from where the Twin Towers once stood. This is maddening!

This will no doubt create a circus at the very least. And then, we can expect the typical delaying tactics of whatever piece of shit attorney decides to represent Mohammed. And don’t be surprised if it’s someone from the ACLU! After all, terrorists are people too!

The worst part about all of this is that this monster, who is responsible for the deaths of thousands of Americans, could walk free! Because you know the defense will be hammering on things like: he wasn’t read his Miranda rights, he wasn’t given a speedy trial and any incriminating dialogue was the result of harsh interrogation. When it’s all said and done, there could very well be a mistrial, hung jury or an acquittal! It happens too frequently already in our justice system with murderers, rapists and pedophiles. Why should we assume that it can’t happen in this case?

And let’s say the bastard does get convicted and gets life in an American prison. He’ll quickly become a rock star in there. Newly "reborn" prison Muslims will look to Mohammed as an inspiration. It definitely won’t be good. My only hope would be that one of the other “unsympathetic” prison gangs would put him out of our misery! This guy deserves to be hung by his balls!

What Mohammed and the rest of his “peaceful” Muslim buddies did on 9/11 was an ACT OF WAR! And, as a result, they should be tried in a military tribunal. I bet no one ever considered trying the Japanese who bombed Pearl Harbor in a civilian court. But then again, that was a much different time. And we certainly didn’t have “leaders” like Barrack Hussein Obama and Nancy Pelosi!


KW

The Grinch Who Stole Gift Cards

You gotta love Baltimore City. To say that it has problems would be putting it mildly. Sure there are gangs, drugs and pot holes large enough to swallow your car. But how bad are things when the freggin’ Mayor is stealing gift cards intended for needy families? You can’t make this stuff up!

What was Sheila Dixon thinking? Did she possibly think that she wouldn’t get caught? Did she think that Martin Owe’Malley would protect her? Or was she just jonesin’ to go on an impromptu shopping spree?

I can see it now….Dixon stuffing her purse full of the cards as she scurries out the door. A trail of gift cards littering the floor behind her as she yells, “Deck the halls with boughs of holly, my ass! I’m going to Best Buy!!”

I never thought Dixon was that bright. But come on! Stealing gift cards for the needy? As John McEnroe used to say, “You can’t be serious!”

What could she have possibly bought with the cards? Maybe a new boom-box to listen to the latest Kanye West CD back at City Hall? Or perhaps a new slide projector so the City Council could see the crime statistics more clearly?

I thought long and hard about what could have possibly motivated Dixon to do such a notorious thing. And I think I’ve got it. She was sick and tired of Marion Barry getting all the attention!

KW

Nancy's A Happy Girl

This morning I woke to the sight of Nancy Pelosi’s gleaming face on the front news page. I know by now that if Queen Nancy is smiling, it can’t be good. Sure enough, I soon find out that the House of Representatives passed the Healthcare Reform Bill 220-215 last night. By five votes!

I’m still amazed that this type of thing is happening in America. I believe that most Americans want a limited government. So, how is it possible to hand over something as important our healthcare to a government that has a history of f*cking up everything it touches?

Think about it, Social Security is on life support while Medicare is virtually dead. And now we’re supposed to believe that the same government that ran these two programs into the ground will not do the same with healthcare? Please stop pissing on my leg and telling me it’s raining!

Speaking of Medicare, part of the Healthcare Bill includes that $400 billion be slashed from the Medicare budget over the next decade. Not really surprising to me since part of the original Bill included “end of life counseling”. In other words, when people get old and become a burden, just let them die. How do groups like the AARP get behind something like this?

As we likely prepare to put tens of millions of newly insured Americans into the system, I have to seriously wonder how it’s possible. After all, the number of medical providers will remain the same. So, how can they possibly accommodate the inevitable flood of new patients? The first and most logical thing that comes to my mind is that they’ll have to ration healthcare. Hey, if you break your leg, just wait patiently and we’ll have someone look at it in a few weeks. After all, it’s not life threatening, is it?

With an estimated price tag of $1.2 trillion, the money has to come from somewhere. So start digging deep into your pockets America. Because when the bill comes due, YOU are the one that will be forced to pay.

This morning there’s little doubt that Queen Nancy and her House Democrats are happy as Bill Clinton in a cheerleader’s locker room. But I really hope that they believe in the Healthcare Bill enough to risk their jobs. Because they may have f*cked us this time, but come the next election, they may be the ones who are going to have to bend over!

KW

The Gym Revisited

Well, after several months of laziness and bad eating habits, I finally forced myself back into the gym this week. I’ll have to admit, I went kicking and screaming, but I did go. So after finally getting in a few workouts, I expected to feel better. But quite the contrary. I actually feel like I just went through the extended cycle of a heavy duty washing machine!

No pain, no gain. Isn’t that what they say?

And if the pain and discomfort isn’t enough, I got on the scale yesterday and realized that I’ve gained a couple of pounds! What kind of bullshit is that? Exercise is supposed to help you lose weight! I explained my frustration to one of my buddies in the gym. In an effort to not discourage me, he tells me that I’m probably building up muscle and muscle weighs more than fat. As much as I’d like to believe him, the noticable jiggle of my man boobs convinces me otherwise.

Several gym buddies asked where I’ve been for the past few months. Too embarrassed to tell them the truth, I made up a story about being in jail for nut-kicking the Oriole’s bird. I don’t know, it seemed to sound more dramatic than saying I’ve been lying around drinking beer and watching Sopranos reruns.

And even though it’s been a while, the characters in the gym remain the same. For instance, the most overweight women still insist on wearing the tightest clothes. And it’s not just the tightness that disturbs me. They wear those clingy polyester-type pants that highlight every dimple of cellulite from their ass to their cankles. Ladies, for the love of God, please stop it!

And of course, the bulky muscle heads are still there trying to lift ridiculous amounts of weight. I want to try to get a couple of huge (but very light) plastic dumb-bells that have “200 lbs” etched into each side. As I prepare to lift these things, I’ll call one of the muscle heads over to spot me. As I “struggle” to lift the weight, I’ll grunt and yell out like a wounded wildebeest with Tourette’s syndrome. “Whoa, bitch! Watch me! Watch me! You got it?? One more rep! ONE MORE REP!!!” It would be interesting to say the least.

And I don’t get this. When I look around the gym, 99% of the people are overweight and out of shape. Quite different than the Bally’s commercials where everyone has a sculpted body with 3% body fat. Why don’t I ever see these people when I’m at the gym? Maybe they sneak in at two in the morning while the rest of us fat-asses are sleeping? Who knows?

And something else that bothers me is that there is a McDonalds right across from my gym. Talk about about something that can break a man's spirit. This would be like the stadium beer man setting up outside of a AA meeting. "Budweiser here! Get cha cold Budweiser!"

With this being said, my plan is to continue a regular routine and not go on another four month hiatus. We’ll see how that works out…….

KW

The Joy of Flying

In the overall scheme of things, flying seems to make more sense than driving. Why would you want to drive two or three days when you can jump on a plane and be there in a few hours? The good points probably outweigh the bad. But in usual fashion, I’m here to tell you about the bad side….

First off, just getting to the airport can be a chore within itself. The outside of the airport can be pandemonium. Crazy foreign cabbies cut off the shuttle busses while confused housewives drop their frantic husbands off at the terminal. The whole scene is best viewed from a distance.

Once you finally get inside the terminal, you’ll usually have to wait in a long line to get your boarding pass. This is also the same place where you’ll usually pay an additional fee for having the airline check your bag(s). I don’t get this. Most people carry at least one piece of luggage. Why charge them for this? This is like charging a person for bringing their head with them. I better watch what I say; I don’t want to give the airlines any new ideas!

After finally getting your boarding pass, you’re forced to go through a security screening by the intellectual giants of the TSA. On one of my last flights, I had to practically disrobe in order to get their approval. I thought for sure a full body cavity search was in the works! For the record, I would walk to my destination before I let these assholes search my …..….. oh nevermind!

Eventually, if you’re lucky, you actually make it the boarding gate on time.

As a result of the baggage fees, many passengers don’t check their bags. Instead, they carry them aboard. Although the rules clearly explain how large a carry-on can be, most passengers conveniently ignore it. They’ll bring aboard suitcases big enough to hide Oprah Winfrey's ass! This creates another set of problems as there is only so much overhead storage space inside. This always pisses me off because, you see, I play by the rules. I bring only a small laptop case. But because of all the inconsiderate assholes bringing their luggage onboard, there’s no room in the overhead bin for it. It's bullshit, I tell ya!

Once I get seated, it doesn’t take me long to realize that comfort isn’t part of the airline’s plan. Unless you’re one of the munchkins from the Land of Oz, legroom isn’t an option. My knees are already touching the seat in front of me. Then, the asshole sitting in it decides to recline. Of course, I’m pissed but what can I say? For a split second, I think about reaching over the seat and yanking the inconsiderate bastard's hair. But I decide it's probably not a good idea. So, there I sit resembling a praying mantis with my hands pinned up against my chest.

Shortly after taking off, the captain announces that it’s now safe to move about the cabin. At this point about half the passengers immediately stand up and head towards the bathroom. We just left the terminal less than 30 minutes ago. And now all of a sudden everyone has to piss??

The flight attendants soon begin pushing big metal carts down the aisle in order to dish out snacks. One of them leans over and asks me if I’d like a drink and/or a bag of pretzels. Looking up from the praying mantis position, I respond, “That sounds f*cking delectable!! But unless you’re going to feed it to me, I don’t see it happening.” She moves on up the aisle. Was it something I said??

The girl sitting next to me decides to start up a conversation. She tells me that this is her first trip to Baltimore. She wants to know what Charm City is known for. I tell her murder and gonorrhea. She nods and goes back to reading her in-flight magazine. I guess I wouldn’t be a very good tourist guide.

After an otherwise uneventful flight (this is a good thing), the captain instructs the flight attendants to prepare for landing. The plane makes a rapid decent and before long we’re back on the ground, safe and sound. I pass the flight crew on the way to the exit. I thank them for getting me home safe. The pilot smiles but the flight attendant that offered me the pretzels seems a bit hostile. What's her problem?

Once I gather up my bag from the luggage carousel, I bolt out to the parking lot to get back to my preferred method of transportation: my car. Flying is definitely the faster way to go, but it does indeed have its issues……

KW

Football Interviews

I love watching NFL football. But I never quite understood the interviews before and after the game. Do they really tell us anything we don’t already know?

Hours before the big game, there are countless interviews of the coaches and star players. The reporters will ask brilliant questions like: “What do you have to do to win today?” And then the responses will be things like: “Well, we have to go out and play hard. We have to play as a team. We have to prevent the other team from scoring. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…….” It drives me nuts!

I’ve even heard some reporters ask the question: “Do you think you’ll win today?” For once, I’d love to hear someone respond with, “Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I think we’re going to get the living shit kicked out of us today.”

And after the game, we’re forced to hear hours of the same ol’ bullshit….

For instance, the winning quarterback will usually say something like, “We came out to play today. We were ready. We gave it 110 percent. In the end, we put more points on the board and as a result, we were victorious.”

Hmmm…….. you scored more points than the other team? And won? That’s f*cking amazing! Thanks so much for enlightening us!

When asking a receiver about his winning touchdown catch, we’ll hear something like, “From the time the ball left the QB’s hands. I could tell it was coming my way. I guess you could say I anticipated it. Yeah, you can quote me on that, I anticipated it! And anticipation resulted in a victorious score for me and my teammates today!”

WTF????

And what’s up with all of the athletes thanking God? At the post-game interview, the first thing they’ll say is, “First and foremost, I’d like to thank God.” After spending three hours of trying to decapitate the guys on the other team, all of a sudden they become religious. Call me crazy, but I think God has more important things to do than worry about the outcome of a football game.

I dunno, maybe instead of all the bullshit interviews, they could make some better use of the time by showing some Seinfeld reruns? Just a suggestion…

KW

The Sensitivity Of Halloween

When did we become such an oversensitive country? No matter what the occasion, there will always be some asshole complaining about being offended. Halloween is no exception. I’d like to address a few recent incidents (in my own charming way, of course!).

The first one involved Halloween decorations in the city of Frederick, MD. Among the decorations in a local park, there were three dummies hanging high in the trees. It’s all in good fun right? After all, THEY’RE FREGGIN’ DUMMIES! But the NAACP didn’t see it that way (big surprise, huh?). The Frederick chapter of the racist organization says that it evoked images of lynchings. Give me a break, you asshole! It’s a Halloween decoration! And if it makes you feel any better, the heads of the dummies were WHITE!

Doesn’t the NAACP have anything better to do? Do they drive around town trying to determine what could possibly be conceived as racist? I guess they feel like they have to justify their existence by drumming up bullshit like this. Not that it matters, but I’ve seen enough Clint Eastwood westerns to know that there were plenty of white people hung too!

Last week, there was some controversy over a space creature costume being sold at Target and other retailers. The costume was a space creature with the words “Illegal Alien” printed across the front. Personally, I think it’s funny as hell. Since we’re not going to throw your ass in jail, we should at least be able to have a few laughs at your expense. But of course the PC police don’t see it that way. They say we’re being “insensitive”. I say they’re being insensitive to us when they ignore our laws and sneak into our country illegally!

I’ve also heard that there was a controversy involving a haunted trail of some sort (I think it was in New Jersey, but I’m not sure). Apparently, part of the set up involved actors posing as escapees from an insane asylum. It didn’t take long for more PC nut-jobs to come out and say that this was “insensitive” to the people with mental disorders. Maybe. But crazy people are still scary as hell! Does anyone remember Billy Bob Thorton in Slingblade?

And even the Vatican has chimed in with its two cents on the October tradition. It says that Halloween is “anti-Christian”. Well, so is the molestation of young boys by pedophile priests. But you didn’t seem to be too vocal about that for several decades!

It’s hard to imagine what’s going to be next. Maybe carving pumpkins will be banned. After all, we’re using a sharp weapon to disfigure a perfectly innocent pumpkin. Perhaps treat or treating should be outlawed. After all, isn’t it similar to panhandling? Maybe we should stop watching scary movies. Because there are people with weak hearts who might find it hazardous to their health.

People really need to get a life and stop being so overly sensitive. The politically correct crowd in this country should either grow some balls or move to France!

By the way, if anyone wants to push the envelope with a risky costume tomorrow, feel free to drop by my house. I 'll drop an extra Snickers bar in your bucket for your efforts!

KW

The Levi Lovefest

As I drink my morning coffee, I glance at the TV. I notice that CBS is interviewing nineteen year old dimwit Levi Johnston AGAIN! How many times are they going to have this idiot on? And they consider themselves a serious news organization? What a joke!

In case you don’t know, Levi Johnston is the former boyfriend of Bristol Palin (Sarah Palin’s daughter). Johnston is also the father of Bristol’s baby. So, it’s not surprising at all that desperate liberal news sources would be using Johnston to make the Palins look bad.

Last year, the liberals ironically looked down their noses Bristol and Levi for having an out of wedlock baby. When inner city welfare recipients are dropping new "out of wedlock" babies every year, they say nothing. But in true liberal tradition, they absolutely refuse to let facts get in the way of a good argument.

I almost feel sorry for Johnston. He’s about as sharp as a watermelon. When he’s baited with questions by the news people, he usually mumbles an incoherent response. Of course, the ulterior motive by the media is always to make Sarah Palin look bad.

During the 2008 Presidential campaign, I could almost understand the smear tactics used by networks like CBS. I don’t agree with it, but in some twisted way, I understand it. After all, rolling in the gutter and hitting below the belt are things that come natural for liberals. So, if they can take advantage of the unsuspecting knucklehead boyfriend of a prominent Republican’s daughter, I expect them to do it. They’re relentless in these situations.

This morning on CBS, Johnston was talking about his upcoming photo shoot for Playgirl magazine (No, I’m not making this stuff up!). I guess this gives Johnston more credibility? I don’t know how anyone can take either of them seriously.

KW

The Rev Is Comin' To Town

I’m always reluctant on writing about things that deal with race issues. My feelings are that anything I say as a white man can only come back and haunt me later. But when I woke up and looked at the front page of the MD Gazette this morning, I couldn’t wait to start venting. You see, I learned that Reverend Jeremiah Wright was coming to my neighborhood next month to speak at a NAACP banquet. I immediately turned red and my blood began to boil.

Just to eliminate any confusion on how I really feel, let me start off by saying that Reverend Wright is a racist asshole. I have no respect for the man. He hates white people and he seems to be ashamed of his country. I never understood people like Wright. If he hates this country so much, there’s a simple solution: GET THE F*CK OUT!

Wright has said many controversial things over the years. Many of his racially divisive sermons were given while our President sat quietly in the pews. This gives me enough reason to believe that the President and First Lady are racists themselves. Why else would they sit there and listen to Wright’s bullshit for twenty years? And didn’t Michele Obama only recently become proud of her country?

Unless you’re black, Reverend Wright seems to have a problem with you. Of course, the double standard on racism in this country protects him from being called a racist. Wright believes in black liberation theology. Because, you see, Christianity is the “white man’s religion”. Of course, it pisses white people off to hear his comments. But there’s nothing that can be done about it. He’s protected simply by the color of his skin.

So, here he comes. From the hate filled pits of his church in Chicago to the small town of Glen Burnie, Maryland. The NAACP is having a Freedom Fund Banquet at Le Fountaine Bleu to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the organization. (By the way, isn’t the NAACP a racist organization by definition? Could there be a National Association for the Advancement of White People? Of course not! That would be considered racist.)

So here’s my take on race in this country. I had nothing to do with slavery. My family wasn’t even in this country until after the Civil War. So, don’t blame me for what happened 200 years ago! Yes, there were wrongs committed by this country against blacks. But there have also been amendments and policies put in place to even things out. Can't we all just move on? Living in the past isn't doing anyone any good! If you aren't where you want to be in life quit blaming everyone else and take some responsibility for yourself. Frankly, the bullshit is getting really old.

I think Martin Luther King made a great point in stressing that we should judge a man by the content of his character. So, when I call a black man like Reverend Wright an incendiary asshole, it doesn’t make me a racist. I’m simply making an honest decision based on what I believe his character to be. And I believe Reverend Wright to be a piece of dog shit.

So why would a place like Le Fountaine Bleu in Glen Burnie allow a hate monger like Rev. Wright speak at their facility. Quite simply, they’re afraid to turn him down. Because, if they put up any sign of opposition, they would immediately be called racists. Assholes like Jesse Jackson would be organizing boycotts against their business. So, they would rather just go against their principles, ironically, to avoid a controversy. When will this nonsense end?

It’s a sad day in Glen Burnie…..

KW

Hunters And Gatherers

Before I even start this one, I want to please ask that everyone put their weapons down. I’m pro-Second Amendment but I don’t want to have to keep looking for snipers as I’m writing this. You can pick your guns up at the door on the way out.

Let us begin…..

Hunting has been around forever. Some people would argue that it’s necessary to sustain life. I’ll buy that to some degree. After all, they didn’t have Miracle-Gro back in Fred Flintstone’s day. So, if prehistoric man wanted to eat, he had to take the slingshot out and look for a Wooly Mammoth.

Millions of years later, the supermarket was invented but men still continue to hunt. I have a hard time understanding this. Why would someone want to spend a weekend freezing their ass off in a tree stand just to shoot a deer? Then, after you shoot the thing, you’ve got to gut him, then drag the poor bastard through the woods back to your truck. Seems like a lot of work for a mediocre piece of meat.

I can run down to the local wholesale club and have my steaks on the grill before my hunter friends even have their tree stands in place. And I didn’t have to get my hands dirty. Hey, I know there was some dirty work involved in getting my steak from the pasture to my grill. I also know that I have no interest in being part of it. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite. But as long as there are supermarkets, I have no plans on killing my own meals. I prefer to be a gatherer rather than a hunter.

(By the way, isn’t sitting in a tree stand and waiting for a deer to wander into your sights more like sniping rather than hunting? Just a thought…….)

Some guys have told me, “There’s nothing like a great piece of venison!” Ahh, bullshit! I can get a filet mignon at any Outback Steakhouse that will run circles around that deer steak. And all I have to do is walk in the door and ask for it! No climbing trees. No freezing my ass off. No dragging an animal carcass through the woods. And no mess! (other than a possible spilled beer at my table.)

For those guys who truly like deer meat, God bless you. But for those who do it simply for sport, I’ve got a suggestion. Take up golf or tennis and treat yourself to a New York Strip when you’re done playing.

All right guys, I’m finished. Give me a five minute head start before you pick up your guns….

KW

Rush & The Rams

Rush Limbaugh is at the center of another controversy. That shouldn’t be too surprising. After all, Limbaugh has been pissing off liberals for years. They’ve tried to attack him any way they could, but Limbaugh not only survived, he got stronger.

So, when Rush announced that he had joined a bidding group for the NFL’s St, Louis Rams, it didn’t surprise me that the usual suspects would be gunning for him. Liberals have accused Limbaugh of being a racist. (Wow, where have we heard this one before?). Not surprising, many blacks have jumped on the race train as well.

Most of these accusations stem from 2003 when Limbaugh made a controversial comment about Philadelphia Eagle’s Quarterback Donovan McNabb. Basically, he said that McNabb was overrated by the media because they wanted to see a black quarterback succeed. What’s the big deal? Call it racist if you want but I don’t see it that way. Even if you do find it offensive, isn’t this still America? And don’t we still have the right to express our opinions?

Some black players have said that they would not play for a team that Limbaugh owned. I think this is bullshit! You put millions of dollars in front anyone, and their principles are instantly compromised. And if they want to stick by their guns and boycott a Limbaugh owned team, let them. There will be a line of other players willing to take their spot!

Of course, you can’t complete any race hustle without the two Mack Daddies of race baiting, Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson. I doubt that anyone take these two assholes seriously anymore. But nonetheless, they refuse crawl back into the woodwork.

Sharpton has written a letter to the NFL Commissioner stating that Rush Limbaugh is too “devisive” and “anti-NFL”. Are you f*cking kidding me? Divisive? Here’s a guy that made a career out of dividing the races! But in typical liberal fashion, it’s all fair game until something doesn’t go his way.

And Jesse Jackson. What can you say about this clown? He’s like an annoying cartoon character. During a recent telephone interview, Jackson said that Limbaugh got rich by "appealing to the fears of whites" with an unending line of insults against blacks and other minorities. What a crock of horseshit! If this isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is! Jackson has made a living of race hustling. He’s done far more harm than good to race relations in this country. The last thing Super Jesse wants is racial harmony. It would put him out of a job!

The most ironic part of all of this is that there are black ownership groups also interested in buying the Rams. Since we're on the subject of race baiting, would it be possible to allow a "white" ownership group to join the bidding? I think we know the answer to that one.

Personally, I don’t care if Rush Limbaugh buys an NFL team or not. But his political views shouldn’t be a factor in deciding whether he’s given an opportunity to do so. So, to all of the typical hypocritical race baiters, please do me a favor and SHUT THE F*CK UP!

KW






.

Excuse Me, Sir

If one more person comes up to me today and asks me for money, I’m going to go postal! For God’s sake, will you people please leave me the hell alone?!?!

I was downtown earlier today, so it’s not surprising that I ran into the predictable “will work for food” assholes. You think I’m being a little tough when I call them assholes? Too bad! I’m tired of their bullshit. They’re liars. They’re not working for any food. In fact they wouldn’t work if you offered them a hundred bucks an hour. I’d actually have a little respect for them if they would at least hold up a sign that said something like “Who am I kidding? I want to get shitfaced! So, how about helping a brother out?”

On the way home from work, I stopped off at the local Giant supermarket. I’ve had a stressful day already and I’m not in the mood for any left handed bullshit. Well, as soon as I get out of my car, here it comes. I'm immediately confronted by a middle aged woman who looks like she may have hitchhiked from Patapsco Avenue. She gives me a bullshit story about running out of gas. She’s “so embarrassed” and just needs enough gas money to get back to Annapolis. Just to get her away from me, I give her roughly $1 in loose change and head into the store.

Well, I come out about twenty minutes later, and I’ll be a son of a bitch! She heads right at me again! This time I meet her head on and say, “Haven't we met somewhere before??” The stupid bitch doesn’t even remember me! Kids, let this be a lesson. Stay away from drugs!

Shortly afterward.....

I had a couple hours of online work that I needed to finish at home. Anyone that really knows me can tell you that I hate to be interrupted when I’m working on something. So, right on cue, I hear a knock at the door. It’s a f*cking sales guy! He wants me to buy some magazine subscriptions so he can win some kind of contest. Can you believe this bullshit? I told him he should stop by the bowling lanes tonight and buy my team a round of beers to help us win our contest! He goes back to his scripted routine until I finally say, “I’m sorry, I don’t have time for this bullshit. But good luck.” As he’s walking away, he sarcastically says that he doesn’t need “sorrys and good luck”, he needs people to pull out their checkbook. At that point, the only thing that was getting pulled out was a bucket of whoop-ass! He’s lucky I didn’t drop kick his ass right in the middle of my front lawn. That would have been a sight for the neighbors!

So God help me, I pity the next fool that solicits me!



KW

Hollywood Loves Roman

Leave it to the left to defend the indefensible. To them, for every bad thing, there’s a good excuse. So, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the libs are rushing to the corner of admitted child rapist, Roman Polanski. Like non-alcoholic beer, I’ll never figure them out….

So after being a fugitive for over thirty years, Polanski was finally arrested in Switzerland last week. It’s still up in the air whether or not he’ll be extradited to the US. But if he is, expect the protests from the Hollywood types.

Already this week, intellectual giant Whoopi Goldberg has claimed that what Polanski did wasn’t “rape rape”. What the hell does that supposed to mean? Let me break it down, you silly bitch. When someone forces another person to have sex against their will, it’s called rape. When an adult male has sex with an underage girl it’s called statutory rape. When a 44 year old man drugs a thirteen year old girl and has sex with her, it’s called a sick bastard raping a child! So yes, it is rape rape, you extremely unattractive bonehead!

And speaking of unattractive boneheads, check this out. Woody Allen is coming to Polanski’s defense. Can you believe this bullshit? This is actually funny! Here’s the same guy who married his f*cking stepdaughter! Are you kidding me? I wonder if Woody and Roman hang out at the Toys R’ Us together?

The argument is that Roman's crime happened a long time ago. Plus, they say, the victim has moved on with her life and has forgiven Polanski. I might have bought some of the bullshit if Polanksi had stayed in the US and faced the music. But instead, he fled to France (that’s reason enough the hate him!) and continued to live the good life for over thirty years. Hollywood even felt the need to award him with an Oscar a couple of years ago. I can’t say that I was surprised.

How can anyone possibly defend this guy? He gave alcohol and drugs to a thirteen year old girl before he RAPED and SODOMIZED her! You don’t defend a guy like this! You crack his f*cking skull with a pipe wrench! At the very least, you throw his ass in jail so it can be on the recieving end!

KW

Beer Is Good Food

I remember the old Miller beer commercial: “When it’s time to relax, one beer stands clear……..” Like many other average guys, I like my occasional cold beer(s). All right, who am I trying to kid. I like A LOT of beers. Through the years, I’ve consumed so much beer that it’s a wonder I have any brain cells left. But, somehow, I continue to defy logic and live on!

I consider myself a bit of a beer connoisseur. At this stage of my life, I’ve sampled (and I use that term lightly) almost every variety. Light, dark, flavored, domestic, imported, wheat, unfiltered, etc. I have very seldom met a beer that I didn’t like. And it works both ways because a beer has never crossed my path that didn’t say, “Drink me!” As a result, we have built a rock solid relationship over the years.


The type of beer a man drinks can tell you something about him.

• A light beer drinker is possibly watching his weight and doesn’t really care about taste. Or, I dunno, he might just be a pussy.

• A micro-brewed beer drinker might be sophisticated and independent. He probably drives a BMW or an expensive sports car. He also might be an egotistical asshole.

• A straight up Budweiser drinker likely owns a pick-up truck stocked with Lynyrd Skynyrd CD’s. And he’s always got a 55-gallon drum of whup-ass he’s ready to dump on someone. So, do yourself a favor and stay out of this guy’s way! By the way, this is probably the same guy who will crush a beer can on his forehead.

• A person who sits at a bar and switches between different beers is a bartender’s worst nightmare. He’s probably a guy who can never make up his mind on anything. Or he might just have ADD.

• A person who drinks his beer out of a forty-ounce bottle in a paper bag probably owns an unregistered handgun and the latest Snoop Doggy Dogg CD.


Drunk (no pun intended) in moderation, beer not only tastes good but it becomes a conversation enhancer. After a couple of cold ones, I sometimes find myself uttering words that I didn’t know were in my vocabulary. For instance, after being three sheets to the wind, I might say something like, "Excuse my abruptness, but that's a delectable f*cking lunch meat tray!" Ironically, after too many beers, the uttering can quickly change to bumbling. Like Clint Eastwood used to say, “A man must know his limitations”. Personally, I often wind up saying, “In all of the confusion I kind of lost count. Was it five or was it six?” Wait a minute; Clint Eastwood said that too, didn’t he?

Another benefit of drinking beer is that it has the tendency to make people more interesting. I’m serious. Sometimes I’ll walk into a party and see people that I really have no interest in talking to. However, after knocking back a few pints, these idiots don’t seem that bad anymore. By the end of the night, I’ll usually say something like, “It was great talking to you. I really can’t understand why everyone thinks you’re an asshole.”

Think about it. Your wife asks you go to some boring social gathering. Relax. As long as there's beer there, you're going to meet some interesting people.

And, not that I’m talking from personal experience, but I’ve been told that beer can make members of the opposite sex seem MUCH more attractive. You walk into the bar and see Frankenstein’s daughter. By last call, she’s somehow transformed herself into Angelina Jolie. Not sure how this happens….

Benjamin Franklin was once quoted as saying, “Beer is proof that God loves us.” Interesting theory but I would like to add a line to Ben’s revelation: “Hangover’s are proof that God wants us drink in moderation.” Hangovers! What kind of bullshit is this? It’s like cashing in your winning lottery ticket only to be robbed as you leave the bank.

Anyone who’s ever been the victim of a hangover knows exactly what I’m talking about. After a night of fun and frolic, the fee will come due the next morning. And it will come in the form of a pounding headache, nausea and the general feeling of wishing you were somewhere or someone else. Chirping birds will feel like sledge hammers upon your skull. Walking from one end of the house to the other will feel like a cross-country journey. The ringing of the phone will be more than you can possibly handle! And of course, you’ll swear that you’ll never drink again but we all know that’s just the pain talking. If someone could ever come up with a hangover proof beer, he’d become an instant millionaire.

With this being said, beer is indeed good food. Cheers!

KW