The Professor Has Spoken!

It’s that time again! Come on over to the Nudge Wink Report and find out what exactly Professor Longhair said in that song. To keep it interesting, I’ve defaced a classic painting and added extra stainless to a classic Caddy.

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If you’re like me, you sing in the car. If you’re also like me, you suck at knowing the actual lyrics to most of the songs you croon along with. Take for example the song I’ve linked by Professor Longhair.  For the most part, the lyrics are entirely decipherable – once you get past the first thirty seconds.  From zero to thirty is another story.  I’ve listened to that first half minute over and over to try to figure out what exactly the Professor is saying.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the great Professor Longhair, you can thank me later.  His album “House Party New Orleans Style” will remain in my shuffle at all times.  I’ve formally requested that his version of “Tipitina” be played at my funeral, and people damn well better dance when it does – Don’t yall make me get up outta dis here pine…

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My Resume Is The One With The Gravy Stains

The NFL coaching job fell through, so I’m throwing my resume around for another gig entirely. My fondness for all-things fried should give me the inside track.

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I’ve noticed a good many openings in the job market just now, and I’m not talking about summer work for college students selling Grit subscriptions door to door.  These are some high paying positions with opportunities for advancement and significant media time.

There are few better ways to get my application considered than by posting it on a world famous blog with tens of thousands of influential readers seeing it every day.  Sadly, only Ben Affleck has editorial access to his blog, and these days his best work seems dedicated to kissing Tom Brady’s ass and whining about Deflate-Gate.  That being the case, I’ll post it here.

Using a blog platform to attempt to springboard into consideration for some sweet employment may be passe’, but I just can’t get the hang of the Insta-Twitter.  As my most loyal readers may recall, I blog-applied for the head coaching job of the New York Jets in a post…

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Philly Catches Another Headline!

It’s my turn over at The Nudge Wink Report. I swear I just posted there like three weeks ago! Anyway, the arrest of Philly Jesus gave me enough fodder to spew out a post. Go there, read my pearls of wisdom, feel blessed.

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Thou hast teathered my wrists with cuffs of iron, but my lips remain free, and I forgive thee, oh genius of Apple. (Image from phillymag dot com) Thou hast teathered my wrists with cuffs of iron.  Lo my feet are shorn in dem golden sandals, yet my lips remain free, and I forgive thee, Officer Cholly. (Image from phillymag dot com)

You may have heard that police in Philadelphia arrested a character who goes by the name of “Philly Jesus”.  It seems He was being belligerent in an Apple store.  If there’s one place I could forgive someone for being belligerent, it would be in a store where a polo shirt wearing hipster has the job title “genius”.

Philly Jesus in happier times. Blasting a little Milli Vanilli in your ear buds can make even the heaviest cross lighter to bear. (Image from Andrew Thayer - Philly dot com) Philly Jesus in happier times. Blasting the right Allman Bothers song in your ear buds can make even the heaviest cross lighter to bear. (Image from Andrew Thayer – Philly dot com)

There I go, siding with the Son of God again!  The cops need to cut him some slack – do you realize how hard it is to throw snowballs at Santa…

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Panama Paper-Trained

I’m taking a break from brewing my own beer to post over at The Nudge Wink Report. Today’s topic is the sexy, exotic world of full financial disclosure and my unlikely court appearances due to any involvement with or inclusion in the infamous Panama Papers. May my lovely wife have mercy on my soul!

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Don't jump to conclusions. No one is going to jail. This is just one of the fun Halloween costumes that crooked billionaires might consider wearing to the big bash in the British Virgin Islands later this year. (Image from cruiselawnews dot com) Don’t jump to conclusions – No one is going to jail. This is just one of the fun Halloween costumes that crooked billionaires might consider wearing to the big bash in the Cayman Islands later this year. (Image from cruiselawnews dot com)

As you may know, there is yet another bombshell leak in the news these days.  The Panama Papers supposedly show what many of us have suspected: Rich and powerful people go to great lengths to keep from paying their fair share of taxes.  The Swiss bank accounts of yesteryear have been replaced by phony corporations, bogus holding groups and enough money laundering to wash even the grimiest of hedge-fund manager and/or stripper germs off of piles of c-notes.

I had originally planned to do some serious investigatory journalism of the leaked documents and rant about the billionaire class running rough-shod all over the little man.  As it happens, many of the movers and shakers exposed in these…

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The Rule of Cats

I’ve pulled myself away from brewing (and drinking) my own beer just long enough to scribble a half-hearted, brief post over at The Nudge Wink Report. It’s almost 9 AM, time for a glass of stout.

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It took me months to get this photo - he wouldn't come out from under the ottoman for my first few visits. Image from laughingsquid dot com. It took me months to get this photo – he wouldn’t even come out from under the ottoman for my first few visits. Image from laughingsquid dot com.

[I apologize to those of you who are reading this post because you mistakenly assumed that the title was some sort of reference to how cats rule.  They don’t rule over much more than small, suburban rodents maybe a pug]

After years of working in homecare, I’ve learned a few things about people.  For the uninitiated among you, homecare involves going into the homes of folks who need healthcare, in my case physical therapy, and providing the service in the home. Anyway, you learn things about folks after going into their abodes.

From a functional mobility standpoint, there are many clues to look for.  Odd wear patterns on the finishes of tables may indicate the presence of a chronic furniture ambulator.  A major butt-divot in an upholstered seat may well…

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Is It Just Me?

As usual, my turn writing over at The Nudge Wink Report came up before I had a chance to actually come up with a decent premise. Lucky for me, there are always stupid photos in my phone, so I slapped a little pictorial casserole together and threw some bread crumbs on top. It tastes like chicken.

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It occurred to me that there is a slim chance that no one else sees the world quite the same way I do. It also occurred to me that if that’s the case, you’re all wrong. I can only hope I’m not the only one.

For instance, is it just me, or does the mom of the “affluenza teen” bear more than just a passing resemblance to famed prop comedian Carrot Top?

Affluenza mom - not carrying props, since she was frisked. Photo from Affluenza mom – not carrying props, since she was frisked. Photo from tjcnewspaper dot com

Carrot Top. You know he gives mad props. Photo from Carrot Top. You know he’s got mad props. Photo from zimbio dot com

Is it just me, or does anyone else think cats probably aren’t all that proud of their turds – I mean, why would you bury something you’re supposedly proud of?

Someone in the marketing department thought it would be good to replace the "crap" with the word "pride". Photo by the author, I'm a regular Hansel Haddams. Someone in the marketing department thought it would be good to replace the word “crap” with the word “pride”. Photo by the…

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Luck of the Draw

Here’s my latest submission over at The Nudge Wink Report. It’s more of that inspired fiction which comes from having nothing better to write about and having to just make crap up. In this piece, I’m single and have a crush on my boss. There are bowling alley and dominatrix references in it, so don’t think it’s all mistletoe and candy canes.

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We were sitting around the conference table down at the NWR office a few months back. Tommy was picking through a carton of Chinese take-out from the joint downstairs, frowning at the lack of recognizable proteins. I had my hand-out and pen in front of me, trying to look businesslike, despite the fact that the page was covered in doodles of dragsters and robots.

Down at the other end of the table past F-Borne and Molly, our two big-deal free agent acquisitions were holding court; Peg tried to pretend that she couldn’t recall exactly how many times she’d been Freshly Pressed. Darla stated that she was Freshly Pegged once, and that was a bigger accomplishment in her eyes.  They took turns complimenting each other and lamenting about dud posts they’d written which had less than 1000 hits.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the boss-lady, Blogdramedy

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