Swordfish Gone Wild


I liked this so much, I just HAD to reblog it! To read about that One Point Perspective at the supermarket was a dream come true. He’s really some kind of genius! Has anyone noticed that I’m writing this crap about myself?

Originally posted on The Nudge Wink Report:

Like most people, I trudge this earth daydreaming about being the person to come up with the next big thing.  It’s either that, or becoming a famous writer who commands the respect an admiration of all who read my work.  Having checked back on my typical blog posts, I think we can all agree that it’s safe to scratch the famous writer option off of the pipe dream list.

I was strolling through the bedlam of weekend shoppers at my local grocery store in just such a daydreaming state.  As I steered my cart to avoid ramming a pair of hungry cougars, I noticed the sign below.   Look closely, and you may notice something a little strange.

If you were too stunned by the sticker shock to notice anything else, take another look.

That’s right, the store in question is advertising both types of fish as “wild”.  A quick…

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From The Driver’s Seat – Shopping Center Edition

I don’t know about you, but I’m sick and tired of reading reviews of the latest supercar from Maserati and how it compares to the Lamborghini.  Even if I won the lottery I doubt I’d drive one of those cars.  With this in mind, I’ve taken it upon myself to review a few other rides.  These models are readily accessible to almost anyone, and can be experienced, if briefly, for just a few coins.

This is a sad approximation of one of the true classics.  Notice the faux stone disk wheels instead of the original limestone cylinders. (Photo by the author)

This is a sad approximation of one of the true classics. Notice the faux stone disk wheels instead of the stock limestone cylinders. To add insult to injury, all of the interior wood grain has been replaced with plastic trim. (Photo by the author)

 Flintstone Mobile

The ride quality on this one really suffers in a side by side comparison to the original. The polycarbonate body is no match for the standard giant log construction. In addition, the lack of foot contact with the pavement results in both a significant decrease in both road feel and braking.  Aesthetically, the absence of an animal skin canopy on this model truly detracts from the classic-yet-primitive lines of the original.  The missing roof is all the more apparent should the driver become a victim of  pterodactyl droppings.

This donkey looks a little shady, we might have to check that barrel for a hidden panel.  Why the hell is that cactus so happy? (Photo by the author)

This donkey looks a little shady, we might have to check that barrel for a hidden panel. Also, why the hell is that cactus so happy? (Photo by the author)

Tijuana Taxi

This one harkens back to a simpler time, life moved at a slower pace, and racism was fun.  Today’s edition displays a Hitler-youth version of the traditionally Mexican donkey, complete with blond hair, a Dr. Seuss-inspired hat, and what appears to be a serious skin condition covering his hide.  The ride was nearly as disappointing as the altered appearance.  The anticipated rhythmic rocking in the saddle on the back of a jack-ass has been replaced with a rather jerky anterior-posterior motion not unlike the mechanical bull at Gilley’s Saloon in Vegas.  The tinny mariachi music emanating from the grinning maw of the adjacent cactus offers little to enhance the experience, though it does reflect the original South-Of-The-Border charm which the ride had prior to its P.C. make-over.

Look at the face on that Mr. P wouldja?  He looks like Kim Kardashian is about to squeeze her big caboose right into that tiny seat.  Geez, that tater has a thing for tushies.  (Photo by the author)

Look at the face on that Mr. P wouldja? He looks like Kim Kardashian is about to squeeze her big caboose right into that tiny seat. That over-sized Tater Tot sure has a thing for celebrity dumpers. (Photo by the author)

Mr. Potato Head Buggy

This is an updated version of a vehicle which was a short-lived, commercial flop.  Historians feel the problem may have stemmed from using the words “potato” and “bug” in the name.  Sadly, this version does not offer the driver the option of changing out the facial features of the Potato Head seat-back or front-grill, which was honestly the only thing to differentiate this dud of a spud from the Rocket To Mars out in front of the Shop-N-Save.

The ride'll run you 75 cents.  Fro thart kind of scratch, they should supply the user with a cute little chain to to attach their cute little wallets to their cute little belts.  (Photo by the author)

The ride’ll run you 75 cents. For that kind of scratch, they should supply the user with a cute little chain to attach their cute little wallets to their cute little belts. (Photo by the author)

Lil’ Harley

This is a miniature version of the classic Harley favored by outlaw bikers (and investment bankers going through mid-life crises).  Though a rumbling soundtrack accompanies the swaying ride, the lack of wind in the hair, bugs in the teeth or frightened glances from neighboring minivan passengers detract from the overall experience.  The nearby bench does provide adequate seating for your old lady (or Mommy), as the fine print points out that “this hog don’t come with no bitch pad“.

Vehicle design notwithstanding, Baby Kermit exhibits an undeniable lack of any resemblance to Miss Piggy. The one in the back seat is just plain creepy. (Photo by the author) resemblance to

Vehicle design notwithstanding, Baby Kermit exhibits an undeniable lack of any resemblance to Miss Piggy.  (Photo by the author)

S-Street: P is for Poultry, and also for Propulsion

America’s pioneering children’s television series has clearly sold out.  Baby Kermit’s eyes reflect a fondness for Phish concerts and if I’m not mistaken, he’s making the hand signal for the “sinsemilla sidecar” wherein new passengers can expect the entire vehicle to be in the smoking section.  If you doubt this premise, then explain how a typically flightless Blue Hen can be converted into a rocket.  I won’t even get into reviewing Snuffie’s Colombian-Themed Party Bus.

My Coaching Application – NY Jets


Portrait of the artist as a well paid football coach with furrowed brow
Portrait of the artist as a well paid football coach with furrowed brow


Attn: Director of Personnel  – NY Jets


Dear Sir,

I am Mr. One Point Perspective, part-time, award winning blogger extraordinaire and full time jack-ass.  I would like to take this opportunity to formally offer my name for consideration as Mr. Rex Ryan’s successor as the head coach of the New York Jets.

As you are undoubtedly aware, the world of professional football is going through some challenging times in recent years.  On the field, teams have taken to using formations of such complexity that many teams have resorted to hiring choreographers.  Celebratory dances alone have nearly been elevated to an art form.  From a play-calling standpoint, things have gotten so confusing that the referees are often the only ones on the field who aren’t either calling audibles or decoding the giant postcards held high on the sidelines by back-up quarterbacks and assistant-assistant coaches.

Off the field, things are stickier than ever.  Player behavior is making headlines for all the wrong reasons.  The public relations quicksand gets deeper by the day.  Who would have guessed that giving millions of dollars to idolized young men who make their living doing violent things could possibly be lead to problems?

These league-wide scandals, in addition to your abysmal record the past several seasons may have disastrous results.  At this rate, there is a distinct possibility that some fans may actually be upset enough to give up their season tickets, mandatory pre-season ticket packages and seat licensing fees.  Without taking action, there is a chance the Jets organization could end up losing a few doubloons over this, not to mention your share of lucrative parking revenues!

The time is now, gentlemen.  Your organization can be a pioneer in making the bold move into uncharted territory by hiring a middle-aged guy from suburbia to be your head coach.  A person with no practical experience in coaching can provide your team with the fresh, unpredictable direction which only a true neophyte can provide.  My attached resume will show that I’ve spent my adult years following several career paths, none of which involve professional football.

I did play football in high school.  Granted, the game was different back in those days, we didn’t wear gloves or Darth Vader visors.  I do recall a few guys on the JV team who tried to sneak gloves out onto the practice field when the weather got cold – they were subjected to some good natured ribbing, let me tell you.

I have participated in a fantasy football league for several years.  The experience has been one of rather limited success, likely due to my drinking too much at the draft parties.  The large amounts of beer and tequila may have been the root cause of my drafting players who were not actually available to play due to incarceration, retirement and in one case, death.  The parties were typically held at my home, so there was no driving under the influence or other scandalous behavior on my part.  I can’t speak for Hacksaw or Tommy Tilt, both of whom have  left the league.  You’d have to speak with their respective wives for full details as to why they withdrew.

Since I have none of the football coaching experience of Rex Ryan, I’ll compare myself to him in a general sense;

  • Rex Ryan has been rumored to have quite the foot fetish and his wife even allegedly appears in several videos, showing off her tootsies.  While I won’t deny being as much of a fan of pretty toes and dainty arches as the next guy, I have the common sense to keep the camcorder in its case except for family birthdays and holidays.
  • Rex has a brother, Rob Ryan, who is a defensive coordinator for the New Orleans Saints – at least he is at the moment.  I also have a brother, and like me, he has no experience coaching football.  He keeps his thinning hair much neater than Rob Ryan’s tangled mane.
  • Rex is known for being outspoken and a straight talker, much like New Jersey Governor Chris Christie.  I’m also widely considered to be a loudmouth, especially when I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about.  Predictably, Gov. Christie is a Cowboys fan and to the best of my knowledge is not interested in coaching your NFL team, as he has eyes on bigger game (or it could be he’s looking at the “sale” sign in the front of Tartaglione’s Cannoli Emporium).
  • I can’t beat the Patriots either, but I’ll damn sure dress better than Belichick on game day.

My noteworthy personal attributes include:

  • I haven’t managed a whole team of players, but I did have a hand in raising three children, none of whom have served any significant time in prison.
  • Mike Vick and I go way back – Oh the dog-fighting yarns we could tell!
  • I’m okay with sharing a stadium with another team as long as those Giants fans promise to pick up after themselves.
  • I appreciate the history of your great franchise – for example, I’m pretty sure that Weeb Ewbank did not host The Newlywed Game.
  • I look really good in green

In closing, I’d like to thank you for your consideration.  Again, I urge you to take the trailblazing step of handing the reigns over to a complete novice, before another team steps up and does it first.  To be completely fair, I intend to send similar applications to parties in Atlanta, San Francisco and Chicago.  Since I already live in Jersey, I’ve decided to give you first dibs.



One Point Perspective


P.S.: I understand a position has also opened up in Buffalo.  I don’t want to be an NFL coach badly enough to apply for that gig.


Don’t Put That In Your Sister’s EZ Bake Oven!

Now that kids all over the country have had a chance to dig into their new toys, manufacturers are dealing with the occasional fall-out from products which offer less (or more) than parents bargained for.

It seems the good folks at Hasbro have just such a pubic relations issue with their new Play Doh cake decorator extruder-thingy.  Rather than describe the issue, I’ll just post a little pic of it below and see if you can guess the problem.

Take a look at the picture and see if you can figure out the problem people are having with it.  If you guessed that it's made in China of inferior plastic containing lead, you might want to look again.

Take a look at the picture and see if you can figure out the problem people are having with it.  If you guessed that it’s made in China of inferior grade plastic, you might want to look again.

You couldn’t see what the issue with the toy is?  Me either!  I did an online search and found some customer complaints, maybe looking at them will shed some light on the problem.

  • “Why did Santa bring this?  Mom already has one in her sock drawer” –  Becky K. – Joplin, Missouri
  • “Tell your sister she has to share, Johnnie! You both get to play with the extruder-thingy”  – Nancy R. – Medford, Oregon
  • “Don’t bother looking at the directions kids, Daddy knows how to use that thing”  – Brad H. – Toledo, Ohio
  • “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid!”  – Department store Santa – Jacksonville, Florida
  • “Dad! I can’t find the cake extruder-thingy and Mom won’t come out of the bedroom to help me look for it”  – Jimmy P. – Des Moines, Iowa
  • “Mom! Timmy wants to fill it with lemonade and try to write his name in the snow!” – Brittany M. – Grand Rapids, Michigan
  • “Mommy, why did you think this toy needs batteries?” – Filbert H. – Baton Rouge, Louisiana
  • “Daddy, why did my new Play Doh cake decorating set come with Anthony Weiner campaign literature?” – Giselle T. Brooklyn, New York

I’m sure that Hasbro doesn’t see a problem either, but you know, the customer is always right.  Parents need to accept that even without a cake decorator extruder, that’s one of the first things a lot of kids are going to make out of Play Doh anyway.

New Year’s Resolutions You Can Actually Keep


Don't get all nostalgic for the New Years Eve of yesteryear - this kid is wearing a cloth diaper and is likely wearing a Depends by now!  (Image from pinterest.com - first New Years Resolution - stay off of Pinterest for another year)

Don’t get all nostalgic for the New Years resolutions of yesteryear – the kid in this photo is sporting a cloth diaper and may well be wearing a Depends by now. (Image from pinterest.com – first New Year’s Resolution – stay off of Pinterest for another year)

Optimism is all well and good, but many of you get a little carried away at this time of the year with your resolutions.  Perhaps it’s the promise of a fresh start, or the regret that comes with an epic New Year’s hangover.  For whatever reason, you simply set the bar impossibly high for yourselves in the coming year.   More often than not, your credit card bills for holiday spending haven’t even arrived before most of your resolutions have already been shot to hell.

A wise (and impossibly upbeat, annoying) person would suggest that every day is a new beginning; that we can each strive to just be a better person every morning.  It’s a pretty good idea to resolve to stay away from people like that.  It may prove to be a tough promise to keep, especially for those of you in twelve step programs or Turkish prisons.

Here now, are some typically unachievable New Year’s resolutions with saner alternatives.   You can resolve to thank me later.  In an effort to show how to set and achieve resolutions, I’ve resolved to use old photos from previous posts to illustrate this one.  Done and done.

Resolution #1: Renew your gym membership / Exercise regularly

I looked for photos of actual squatters, but felt the ones I found were demeaning.  This woman chose to dress this way to perform squats, and as such, she demeans only herself.  By the way, honey, love the shoes!  (Image from thegreatfitnessexperiment dot com)

Working out is not always as glamorous as this.  I don’t know how this shot didn’t break the internet.  (Image from thegreatfitnessexperiment dot com)

Problem: Gym memberships pose many problems.  For one thing, the obligatory monthly payments and over-priced juice bars may derail financial management resolutions you may be considering (refer to Resolution 3 below).  There’s also a good chance you haven’t been to the gym since the last time you made this hollow promise about twelve months ago. A slim possibility exists that the gym has folded and the lease was taken over by a do-it-yourself dog-grooming enterprise.  It’s still recommended that you wipe down the equipment when done.

1 PP Resolution Solution: Change your perspective.  By most standards, you’re over-weight and about as active as an arthritic tree sloth, but compared to some folks, you’re the picture of health and living an active lifestyle.  Resolve to spend more time in cemeteries.  Next to the dead, you’ll probably look pretty fit.  While you’re there, you might as well walk around a little.


Resolution #2: Eat a healthier diet / Lose weight

There is no evidence to support the possibility that Carl's Jr is considering serving Barbequed bowsers or even Hawaiian style buns. (Cut and paste digital collage handiwork by the author)

There is no evidence to support the possibility that Carl’s Jr is considering serving Barbequed bowsers. (Cut and paste collage handiwork by the author for a different post – needed to re-use it to make all that digital labor worth my while )

Problem: A healthier diet will almost certainly include more fruits, dark green leafy vegetabley things and less processed junk.  You’re on a first-name basis with the people in the window at the local drive-thru.  The produce clerks at the local health food co-op shift their glances nervously between you and the AED every time they see you lumbering down the aisle.

1 PP Resolution Solution: What really matters in life?  Looking good and treating your body like a temple, or having friends?  Buy a fistful of scratch-off lottery tickets for your friends at Jack-In-The-Box and nurture your fellowship with that bunch of zany kids!  Those cucumber waxers over at Whole Foods were never going to be your pals anyway.


Resolution #3: Get out of debt / Improve your financial management

If your bank account looks like this, you need to stop watching the Cowboys get their asses kicked and go do some shopping!  Rumor has it Romo jerseys are going for bargain prices.  (Image from picsbox dot biz)

If your idea of financial management is organizing your wads of cash in neat little stacks like these, you may need more individualized advice. Give me a call on my cell and we’ll talk about my ideas for a combination brewery/day spa.  (Image from picsbox dot biz)

Problem: Committing yourself to improving your money situation won’t get you a raise down at The Kraft Shak.  There’s no need for a calculator to figure out that even going without food and shelter, you couldn’t pay off those credit cards before next year’s resolutions.

1 PP Resolution Solution: Financial experts agree that diversification of investments is key.  If it works for Jimmy Buffett’s rich uncle Warren, it should work for you too.  So when you buy those scratch-offs, make sure you get a wide variety of them.  Bonus Hint: Use a key to scratch off the ticket, having loose coins around will only encourage frivolous spending.


Resolution #4: Do more for others / Be a better citizen of the world

I saw what you wrote on Facebook - you're allowed into heaven now. (Image from popejokes dot com)

I opted for a funny Pope photo here, because Mother Teresa washing feet is just not entertaining viewing.  (Image from popejokes dot com)

Problem: Let’s face it, volunteering is not as much fun as you thought it would be.  The pay is even less than you what you clear at The Kraft Shak.  In addition, soup kitchens and Habitat for Humanity building sites are teeming with those wildly optimistic, happy-pants yahoos we all agreed to avoid in the beginning of this post.

1 PP Resolution Solution: First of all, you need to steer clear of late night TV ads which result in you donating pennies a day to the orphaned kittens of Botswana.  I mean really, how much of your 12 cents do really think goes to those scrawny little tabbies?  If you’re still hell-bent on doing good, you can come over here and rake my yard or shovel my driveway without me having to drop hints over and over again.  There might even be a cup of cocoa in it for you, but I’m not making any promises.


Resolution #5: Improve your attitude and coping strategies

You take the espadrilles out of this one and it's nothing but the shallow end of a pool.  You also lose my name, which I proudly stuck in the corner.  Gimme credit WP.

Yes you’ve made questionable decisions, and those shoes are no exception, but it’s not the end of the world.  Besides, if you wanted to do something dramatic and self-destructive, you’re at the wrong end of the pool.  (Illustration by the author, who is trying to get his money’s worth out of the hours invested drawing water and shoes)

Problem:  Dealing with the challenges the world throws your way is what life is all about.  You know that getting passed over for the assistant head checker position down at the Crap Shak shouldn’t have mattered so much, but you ended up sulking for weeks.  How the hell can you expected to be happy and upbeat when the world keeps dumping out second helpings of poop on your plate?

1PP Resolution Solution: If you’ve followed my sage advice thus far, you’re probably reading this as you sit on a tombstone, eating a Jum-Bo-Valu meal amid the sad clutter of losing lottery tickets and dead flowers.  As if that isn’t bad enough, your back is sore from doing gratis yard work over at Casa del One-Point (For future reference, bring your own rake next time – I’m not running a lending library here).  My final bit of wisdom is that you stop making promises which will inevitably end in you disappointing yourself.

You’re quite welcome.

See you next year!

Anyone Seen The Keys To The Trophy Case?


You know how it goes; the Academy of Motion Pictures names its Oscar contenders, and you look over at your husband/wife/life-mate/favorite cat and shrug.  Neither one of you has even heard of these flicks, let alone ever considered going to see one.  If the Oscar nominees aren’t obscure enough, take a look at who’s nominated for Pulitzer Prizes – then you can really feel out-of-touch.

Mr. Parker: It's a Major Award! Swede: Shucks, I wouldn't know that. It looks like a lamp. Mr. Parker: What is a lamp, you nincompoop? It's a Major Award. I won it! Swede: Damn, hell, you say won it? Mr. Parker: Yeah, mind power, Swede; mind power.  (Image and dialogue from Jean Shepherd's "A Christmas Story")

(Image from Jean Shepherd’s “A Christmas Story”)

That’s all going to change right now.  Your days of being out of the loop as to who’s in and who’s out are officially over.  The winner of The Green Study’s “What’s on the B side of that 45?” contest is someone you’ve actually heard of.   That’s right, it’s yours truly.  My opus on middle age was so witty yet so poignant, so terse yet so wordy, so scratchy yet so smooth, that Michelle at The Green Study crowned it the winner.*

So now, just in time for the holiday cocktail party season, you’ll be able to confidently hold court and brag to friends and neighbors about your having been a long time reader, long before I was discovered by the masses.  Let’s face it, you’ll already look like something of a brainiac just for reading anything at all.  Being a loyal fan who knew my body of work** before I hit the big time will surely catapult you into the ranks of some sort of über-genius who borders on being an intellectual snob.

"I say, old man, I believe I've lost my favourite smoking jacket is at the tailor's shoppe.  Be a sport and toddle down to the wardrobe department and fetch me a new one, won't you?  Also, I'm simply parched, would you mind bringing me a glass of port as well?  Jolly good of you!" (Image from kued.com)

1 Point Perspective didn’t write a single one of the classic novels which sit beneath my wrinkled left hand.  That being said, many of his blog posts are considerably longer and more complex than Kim Kardashian’s latest Tweet.
(Image from kued.com)

If you’re like me, it’s not likely that you have much experience at looking like someone who’s “in the know” at holiday gatherings (or office meetings for that matter – pay attention Jenkins, and stop dawdling with your damn phone!).  With this in mind, I’ve come up with a few segues for you to drop into conversations about various topics.  You’re quite welcome.

“You know, I’d heard good things about that hunky trainer over at the gym.  My personal trainer is 1 Point Perspective.  You’ve probably heard of him, he’s an award winning blogger who wrote an epic treatise on exercise which is how I keep my upper arm fat just prominent enough to cover some of my back fat”

“Speaking of politicians, you simply have to reader 1PP’s exclusive interview with Anthony Weiner’s penis!  That little dick won’t shut up.  Plus, One Point’s illustration is quite tasteful, in a NSFW sort of way”

“Oh sure, ‘The Walking Dead’ is entertaining to a point, but it’s in hiatus – again!  I get my zombie fix over at 1PP’s Holiday Greetings from the Zombie Apocalypse.  Ho Ho Ho-ly crap!  The undead really make for some zany holiday hi-jinx!”

How exactly you’re supposed to fit links to blog posts into polite conversation is something you’ll have to figure out on your own.  I shouldn’t have to do everything for you people.  Take some initiative ferchrissakes!

In the meantime, I’m going to keep looking for the keys to the trophy case, I’ve got a new coffee mug coming and I’ll need to make space for it among the rest of my award swag.

Good luck at your holiday parties, if you’re going to be dropping my name when you visit The Green Study, try not to drink too much and end up making an ass of yourself.  I’m trying to build a brand here.

*Michelle has since revealed that during the contest judging she was battling a particularly nasty strain of flu-bug and may or may not have inadvertently over-medicated herself and/or suffered periods of delusion.  I took a quick look at the judging criteria and it clearly states that all decisions are final – no backsies.
** To be completely honest, my “body of work” includes interviews with The Easter Bunny, an infamous penis, and multiple essays on the human condition – most specifically, my frequent attempts at avoiding cleaning up dog dookie from the yard and generally whining about Facebook.

Stick This Holiday With A Fork – It’s Done

Once upon a time, we had a perfectly good holiday.  It was steeped in tradition, as holidays tend to be.  It was non-denominational and based upon the universal notion of pausing to take stock of how much each of us has to be thankful for.   How could it possibly be ruined?

I’m not talking about the Thanksgiving when Aunt Glenda drank too much wine and subsequently wet herself.  Nor am I referring to when Jimmy Jr. and Cousin Earl stirred things up over at the kid’s table when they staged an epic farting contest.  Those events are called “memories” people, and given enough time, they can become ones we cherish (though Glenda may not fully agree).

One sure way to ruin a holiday is to let time-honored traditions be replaced by new things, which may or may not turn out to be tradition worthy.  Here are just a few ways that folks have managed to make hash out of our beloved turkey day:

Tradition: Cook an elaborate meal, centered around a sizable turkey, which fills the entire house with a its intoxicating aroma while roasting for hours and hours.

Replaced With: Deep fry the turkey out in the driveway, investing as little time as possible.

Result: Congratulations on taking the turkey cooking chore away from Mom so she’s free to bend the elbow with her sister Glenda.  In doing so, you’ve unwittingly pinned the responsibility of turkey cookery on Uncle Phil, who is also known as “Nagasaki Phil” for what he’s done to various cuts of beef at 4th of July barbeques.  The timeless aromas of roasting turkey have been replaced by the scent of several gallons of heated oil intermingled with a hint of gasoline from the lawn mower which sits adjacent to the propane tank by the shed.  As an added entertainment bonus, there’s a chance Uncle Phil will live up to his nickname and light the dog on fire.

meme from the net, where humor goes to die

meme from the net, where humor goes to die

Tradition: Taking time off to reflect on what we’re thankful for.

Replaced With: Squandering precious vacation hours on rampant consumerism.

Result: For many, Thanksgiving has already become nothing but the day before Black Friday, wherein we immediately discard being thankful for what we have and focus instead, on what we want.  Since Black Friday can’t come soon enough, America’s heartless retailers have started having stores open on Thanksgiving itself for even deeper discounts.  It’s only a matter of time before even deep fried turkey and instant mashed potatoes will not be quick enough for the schedules of bargain crazed shoppers – precipitating the change over to Wendy’s Turkey Gobbler Wrap with a side of fries.  At this rate, Halloween will eventually become the start of the Christmas shopping season with Thanksgiving being demoted to the unofficial midpoint of gift buying frenzy.

If your bank account looks like this, you need to stop watching the Cowboys get their asses kicked and go do some shopping!  Rumor has it Romo jerseys are going for bargain prices.  (Image from picsbox dot biz)

If your bank account looks like this, you need to stop watching the Cowboys get their asses kicked and go do some shopping! Rumor has it Romo jerseys are going for bargain prices even before December this year . (Image from picsbox dot biz)

Tradition: Scores of special side dishes are made and brought by family members from far and wide to accompany the turkey.  Oftentimes, these rare culinary gems are only seen on Thanksgiving, due to the closely guarded nature of secret family recipes and the labor intensive realities of making Grandma’s famous creamed onion and mashed rutabaga casserole from scratch.

Replaced With: Increasingly simple and/or instant dishes which require little more than adding the right amount of water and knowing how to use a microwave.

Result: It stands to reason that if you’re going to deep fry a 22 pound turkey in 13 minutes, you can’t spend hours and hours in the kitchen screwing around with the sides.  Besides, gourmands agree that the taste of deep fried meat is best complimented by instant mashed potatoes, Stove Top Stuffing, Pillsbury dinner rolls and of course, a freshly opened can of cranberry sauce.

Your guests won't believe that it's instant!  It'll be our secret!  (Image from 313merch dot com)

It’s a sure sign that Aunt Glenda’s had way too many white zinfandels when she starts huffing the jar of Instant Shit. (Image from 313merch dot com)

Tradition:  Rivalry football games.  In the halcyon days of my youth, the football teams of neighboring towns would meet every Turkey Day for bragging rights.  Win or lose, we’d return home to the smells of roasting turkey and Grandpa’s White Owl cigar smoldering in the ashtray.  Later, a couple of teams from the NFL or college ranks would square off on the TV.

Replaced With: The NFL has totally taken over Thanksgiving football.  There may still be some other games played, but you’d never know it.  The Lions play someone each year, then the Cowboys play someone else.  This year, San Francisco played yet another game after the other two contests were over.

Result: Now that the NFL has cornered the market on televised sports for this holiday, their focus has shifted to covering even more time zones to create constant grid iron action.  They’re trying hard to land a team in London, and rumor has it they have plans for franchising teams in Hawaii and on a special floating stadium in the north Atlantic.  Let’s hear it for the Fightin’ Cod!



You can't watch these warriors on Thanksgiving because A. They aren't in the NFL and B. They are presumably busy that day, making green bean casserole. (Image from football dot wonderhowto dot com)

You can’t watch these warriors on Thanksgiving because A. They aren’t in the NFL and B. They are presumably busy that day, making green bean casserole. (Image from football dot wonderhowto dot com)

Tradition: The kiddie table

Replaced With: The phasing out of the kiddie table due to hovering parents who can’t stand the thought of their kids being alone.  Surely there have been kiddie table lawsuits filed claiming discrimination and/or forced segregation as well.

Result: Letting the kids sit at the table with the grown ups inhibits parents from spending the entire meal talking about this year’s strategy for Christmas gift shopping once they’ve finished speed-eating.  This will also give parents insight into what a mediocre job they’ve done teaching the young ones table manners.  Honestly, when Little Brittany bit into that Turkey Wrap without holding her pinkies out, I could have just died.

There's cousin Earl making his "He who smelt it dealt it" face.  The little rascal!  (Image from 999thepoint dot com)

There’s Cousin Earl making his “He who smelt it dealt it” face. You can tell from Jimmy Jr.’s reaction in the background that having whiffed Earl’s air biscuit, he knows he’s finished a disappointing second again this year. Brittany must be upwind of the action.  (Image from 999thepoint dot com)

I’d like to go on at greater length about this sad topic, but the time is already running out for my whining about the ruination of Christmas.  I hope I didn’t give you indigestion.


Right In The Old Bread Basket

I’m no stranger to the dinner table.  In fact, I’ve got over five decades of anecdotes of my over-eating.  There’s the time I gobbled so much food at my grandmother’s Thanksgiving table that I fell asleep with my face in the plate.  Were it not for the tryptophan, I might have eaten myself to death that fateful turkey day.  In college, the local Mexican joint suffered mightily during my attendance at their all-you-can eat taco night.  The same thing went for the place in Colorado with the all-you-can-eat steak dinners.  A note on that last one, swimming isn’t the only thing you should avoid doing immediately after eating; driving a truck loaded with all your possessions in the dark of night while the majority of your blood flow is busy trying to digest the better part of a cow is also to be avoided.

Given my rich history of gluttony, I couldn’t help but be impressed with the recent news story of the woman who was found by customs inspectors in the Dominican Republic to be smuggling seventy thousand dollars in her stomach.  She had another sixty-nine thousand found hidden in her suitcase.  I’m guessing they found the suitcase loot first, and then noticed her bloated belly.  Typically, airline passengers have a tough time filling up too much on the palm sized portions of pretzels they give out these days.  Even if she bought one of the sixteen buck turkey sandwiches and washed it down with with a couple of splits of champagne, her tummy would still have appeared relatively normal.

Of course the news outlet which carried the story helped to make it all the more amazing by using an illustration featuring a file photo of stacks of crisp hundreds bound with red rubber bands.  The size of a stack of hundreds is rather substantial when juxtaposed with the opening  of a standard pie hole.  I whipped out several number two pencils and some scratch paper and did a little math.  After a half hour of cyphering, I can say with a degree of confidence that she would have had to swallow seven hundred of those c-notes to come up to the total listed in the story.

I'd think the corners of those stacks would be especially tough to swallow.  Not to mention the fact that money is dirty, any one of those bills could have been touched by a politician.  (Image from picsbox dot biz)

I’d think the corners of those stacks would be especially tough to swallow. Not to mention the fact that money is dirty, many one of those bills could have been touched by politicians. (Image from picsbox dot biz)

I didn’t have a hundred dollar bill laying around, but if memory serves, they’re pretty much the same size as a twenty, which I did (miraculously) have handy.  I folded it as small and tight as I could, then took a pic of it next to one my allergy pills.  Since these pills have no effect whatsoever on the molds, stink bug droppings and various other things which make autumn as fun as spring for me, it’s nice to finally have a use for them.

Since snapping this pic, I've squandered the twenty smackers on a cup of coffee and a handful of magic beans.  My wife scolded me about the beans and threw them out the window.  On an unrelated note, it occurs to me that swallowing a human thumb would be even more difficult than a rolled up bill.

Since snapping this pic, I’ve squandered the twenty smackers on a cup of coffee and a handful of magic beans. My wife scolded me about the beans and threw them out the window. On an unrelated note, it occurs to me that swallowing a human thumb would be even more difficult than a rolled up bill – hats off to you cannibals!

I suppose that someone will point out that she could have gulped down a mere seventy one-thousand dollar bills or the tiny paper currency of the island nation of Tonga* to minimize the gut bulk.  Even so, seventy thousand clams adds up to a whole lot of swallowing.  Perhaps she dipped them in butter or possibly apple sauce to help get them down.

I’m no expert in human physiology, but the “harvesting” of the cash poses a few lovely options.  Perhaps her colleagues had planned on an ipecac syrup cocktail and a few reruns of “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” with a well placed bucket.  Another choice would have been the colonoscopy prep approach, which would have run the risk of partially digested c-notes and a new high bar setting for the term “dirty money”.  Lastly, there was the possibility of some motel room surgery, which is usually performed for more cosmetic purposes, such as silicone-caulk buttock enhancement.

I looked for photos of actual squatters, but felt the ones I found were demeaning.  This woman chose to dress this way to perform squats, and as such, she demeans only herself.  By the way, honey, love the shoes!  (Image from thegreatfitnessexperiment dot com)

If motel surgery was really an option, then the smugglers might have considered hiding the “wampum in dee bumbum” in the first place.  Though eagle-eyed customs inspectors who are twerking aficionados might spot tell-tale cash-stack lumps amid the curvy splendor of the booty.   (Image from thegreatfitnessexperiment dot com and/or dudelol dot com)


Irrespective of how the money was to be rescued from this woman’s digestive system, swallowing that much money is pretty impressive  If I have more than five bills in my wallet, my sitting posture gets all catty-wampus and I end up having to spend that cash on chiropractic adjustments.  How ironic is that?  I recently took a short flight to Florida and spent the entire two hours squirming around like a meth addict with ADHD.  Every time the seat belt light came on, I surrendered any fleeting hopes of comfort.  I can’t help but wonder how anyone could sit in one of those seats with seventy large in their breadbasket.  Maybe on the way to the airport, she decided to treat herself and burped up enough cash to upgrade to first class.

* A quick Google search revealed that the people of Tonga do not actually use paper money at all, and in fact used to pay for everything with plastic.  Sadly, the huge amount of plastic which washes ashore there on a daily basis nearly ruined their fragile economy.  They have addressed the problem by changing their monetary system back to the original forms of currency which consisted of puka shells and human teeth.  An online calculator estimated that seventy thousand US dollars would convert to roughly 1237 pounds of shells and enough bicuspids to outfit every player in the NHL with a flawless smile.

Popular TV Episodes Summarized For Your Convenience

First of all, you’re welcome.  I had to do my monthly duty over at the Nudge Wink Report, so I thought I’d summarize the latest goings on of a few popular TV shows instead of coming up with some sort of intelligent topic to write about.  Don’t worry about spoilers though, as I’m actually a week or so behind.  If you’re further behind than that, you need to buck up and take your TV viewing a little more seriously and stop wasting time with more meaningful pursuits, like earning a living, raising children or volunteering at the local ebola clinic.  Since I know that many of you are visual learners, here’s a photo for you:

I found this and figured someday it would be a great illustration for a post, then I saw something shiny and forgot all about it.  Feel free to be disturbed.  (Image from wincountry dot com)

I found this and figured someday it would be a great illustration for a post, then I saw something shiny and forgot all about it. Feel free to be disturbed. (Image from wincountry dot com)

Feel free to thank me later.  You can click on the Nudge Wink link above, or here to jump over there and see my incredibly shallow summary of a few popular shows, which you may or may not watch.

No Thinning This Herd


It’s my time of the month over at The Nudge Wink Report. Even though I can’t manage to write anything on my own blog, I try to appease my boss over at NWR, because, you know, she’s my boss and all. Let’s all wish her a speedy recovery from the headaches I give her.

Originally posted on The Nudge Wink Report:

In a recent FTC ruling, people who bought caffeine-infused under-garments in hopes of losing weight will soon be getting their money back.  It seems that two different companies sold these jittery Jockey shorts and bilked people out of a million bucks or so.  Much to the disappointment of these shoppers, wearing tightey-whiteys with more buzz in them than a case of Jolt Cola won’t actually melt the pounds away.

The legal community would have us believe that this action has identified the wrong doers and punished them.  The innocent victims of the greedy scams will be reimbursed and everything will once again be right with the world.  What they don’t tell us is that with an extra fifty bucks squeezed back into their tight pants pockets, these folks are free to buy a case of Hostess Ho Ho’s, a couple of  bags of fried pork rinds, a Whopper with…

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