I’m Back ?!

As long time followers know, it’s been a long damn time since I’ve written anything on this blog.  My excuses are many, and none of them are worth the precious time required to discuss.  The important thing is that I am back.


Did you miss me (Did you even know I was gone)?  I apologize.  It’s like I’m one of those Dads who goes out for a pack of smokes and doesn’t turn up until 19 years later when Mom wins the lottery or junior is a first round draft pick.

oregon bent tree 1
My apologies for using old pics from previous posts, but I wanted to publish this before it got too stale. Photo and inspirational idiocy by the author

Back when I was blogging like a fiend, I was a self-admitted whore for likes and followers.  As the numbers plateaued and the same three people liked what I wrote, the buzz was wearing off.  Now I’m back, and to be fair, it is partly because of my metaphoric lottery win.  No millions in cash to leech onto, no kid in the big leagues, just you, my handful of patient readers.

When you’re done watching everything you can on Netflix*, the news makes you break out in hives, and you need a moment to get away from your quarantine mates – you’ll come to me, and welcome me back into your worlds without so much as a peep about why a pack of Marlboro Lights took me so long to find.

As for my personal quarantine, I’ll say this and this only: My people are safe and healthy, my food supplies are sufficient and I have more than enough home brewed beer to last me.

I just wanted to say hello, and to let you know that I’ll be turning out some fiction in the weeks/months to come.  My penchant for poking fun at the insanity of our times has officially become easier than falling off a log as well as painfully depressing, so I’m leaving that to others.

I hope you are all well, and look forward to writing something more.



*”The Tiger King” is viewing gold.  Every episode, every minute. As the saying goes, you can’t make this shit up.



My Dog Ate My Blog Post…and other lies

I really need to stop writing. This is an awful example of why. If the beer I brew was as pathetic as these blog posts, I would give up drinking!

nudge. wink. report.

There’s the culprit. She took my blog post off the coffee table and ate it as she sat under this Leyland cypress. She had the runs for three days after – my writing is not easily digested.

The more alert among you may have noticed that I posted absolutely nothing when it was my turn the last time here at The Nudge Wink Report.  I would’ve written, but I’ve stumbled onto something that’s bigger than mere humor bloggery.

It began innocently enough.  As you may know, I’ve begun brewing beer in earnest, and blogging much less.  The inherent risks of moving ten or eleven gallons of very hot, sugary wort without burning or breaking myself were becoming more and more clear. Not wishing to suffer a scalded hernia, I knew it was time to look into getting a pump.  As a quick aside, my long-suffering wife has been a saint in tolerating…

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Games Over

Here I am again over at The Nudge Wink Report writing a blog post just like I used to do with some regularity over here. If you promise to come over and read it, I’ll do my best to post an actual original piece over here, on my own damn blog.

nudge. wink. report.

It can be a struggle being a curmudgeon, but sometimes they make it awfully easy for me.  Take for example the “news” story I recently read which implied that there was some consideration for making gaming an Olympic sport.  To clarify, the term “gaming” does not refer to the games which already award medals to the best players/teams in a given sport.  Sports such as handball, synchronized swimming and curling are already well established Olympic fare.

This is a humor blog, and as such, I have a moral obligation to make at least one reference to this boob. (Image of actual Trump Tweet from the interwebs)

The gaming to which the article refers is the video form.  In fairness, I should disclose that the “article” to which I am referring is barely more than click bait in its depth and quality. I scanned through two or three paragraphs worth.  Someone from the gaming community was going to meet with someone…

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What’s In A Name?

Time again for another installment over at the Nudge Wink Report. For those of you keeping score, I put less creative energy into each one of these. Soon it’ll just be two or three paragraphs of incoherent drivel.

nudge. wink. report.

Not the actual cat. Image from the interwebs

Some folks in Iowa recently named a rescued kitten “Firecracker” after veterinarians determined that the feline’s facial injuries had likely been caused by some sort of fireworks. In the interest of blog humor, I won’t get on a soapbox and rail against the sadistic nature of the cretins who perpetrate such acts upon innocent, sweet animals (or even cats for that matter).

Instead, I’d like to question the wisdom of christening a cat with such an awful name.  If it was a feisty tabby with an explosive personality and the potential to tear digits to shreds, then a moniker like Firecracker might be an apt handle.  Naming this little guy after the explosive that blew his whiskers off seems a bit cruel.  On the plus side, since it’s a cat, the name doesn’t really matter as they only respond to the sound of electric…

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to be determined

It’s my turn over there at the Nudge Wink Report. I phoned this one in – busy schedule of day drinking and tom-foolery, don’t ya know.

nudge. wink. report.

There is a player on the Cavaliers who believes the earth is flat.  His name is Kyrie Irving and he was born on the other side of what he must see as giant pizza box in a place called Australia.  One might be inclined to imagine that anyone who thinks the earth is flat must have had a sub-par education.  Kyrie went to a prestigious prep school in northern New Jersey, and later attended a place called Duke University.  Either those two institutions are guilty of not providing their star athletes with the most basic of educations, or Kyrie chose to ignore the astronomy portion of his curriculum.  Kyrie may be one of the only Duke alum who thinks the earth is flat, but he’s far from alone.

Perhaps Kyrie and the others only believe in things which they can see with their naked eyes.  Despite the likelihood that he’s spent more time at thirty five thousand…

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Overdrawn at the Memory Bank

This week, despite possessing the long term memory of a sieve, I took my turn over here at The Nudge Wink Report. I’m not getting better, I’m getting older.

nudge. wink. report.

Subway is now portraying themselves as purveyors of natural, wholesome sammiches. The ad agency must be banking on the American public forgetting all about their clients having used a material commonly found in yoga mats in their bread.  One can’t blame the ad agency, after all, they’re dealing with an American public which is generally thought to have the attention span of a caffeinated flea.

Loyal readers may recall this photo from a post I wrote about a woman being served sandwiches made from her own pooch. It's a bastardized Hardee's ad with no reference to yoga mats, Subway or memory. I forget why I put it in here. Loyal readers may recall this photo from a post I wrote about a woman being served sandwiches made from her own pooch. It’s a bastardized Hardee’s ad with no reference to yoga mats, Subway or memory. I forget why I put it in here.

By the same token, I know people who haven’t been swimming in the ocean since seeing “Jaws” in 1976.  They just can’t forget about it.  If they dare to wade in past their ankles, they start hearing that music;  “Duhhhh-Dumm…duhhh-dumm…DUMM DUMM DUMM!”  Next…

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A Man With A Plan

It’s my turn over at The Nudge Wink Report again. This time I had enough fodder swirling around in my noggin to come up with a rambling mess of words. I can only pray that some of you find this junk amusing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go fortify my bunker and stock up on scotch and band aids.

nudge. wink. report.

I was once told by a very wise man, that I “thought too much”.  Sadly, he didn’t stick around this earth long enough for me to let him know that he was onto something.

I’d love to say that I’ve managed to get my over-active brain under control, but that’s not happening.  Despite all the magic elixirs the distillers of America, Scotland and Mexico can muster, I still have a tough time putting my gray matter into sleep mode.  As if I didn’t have enough things to worry about with the world, I’ve been bombarded with an onslaught of political propaganda for the past six months to drive almost anyone cuckoo.  The “green” candidates alone have filled my mailbox with enough paper campaign flyers to reforest Utah.

Conceptual diagram illustrating the brain of the author at this moment in time. Keep your fashion comments to yourself. Illustration by the author and his handy cell phone. Conceptual diagram illustrating the brain of the author at this moment in time. Keep your fashion comments to yourself. Illustration by the author and his handy cell…

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