Writing: Just do it. See what happens…..

A most difficult thing to do:

To sit down to write when you don’t have a clue what you want to say.

So, you just let your fingers start walking over the keyboard, to see what happens.

Did you know that the beer in the beer stores is more expensive than at the grocery store?

No kidding.

At least it was today.

If you work til around dusk, have you noticed how beautiful the sky lights up the landscape?

Yeah, say what you like, and yes, I did have a few cocktails, but the evenings in the fall have spectacular lighting.

C and C are celebrating their 4th anniversary today.

I was privileged to have shared a few moments with them.

Wait:  They weren’t supposed to stop tonight.

Hmmm:  3 nights in a row.

Anyone want to make a bet on tomorrow night?

A rare sighting: Bobby had 2 beers.

The world is definitely going to hell in a hand basket.

This afternoon, on a conference call, I witnessed innovation at its best.

A simple, yet brilliant solution to a problem I had been pondering for a year or so.

I had to congratulate the 2 guys who came up with the idea.  Einstein and Einstein Jr.

Way to go!

A happy scene on my way  home:  The animal shelter was packed with people, volunteers, who take care of the needs of the many pets who are looking for a permanent home.

Pets bring so much joy to all of us.

Hump day already.

Busy weeks fly by.

Actually, I prefer these busy times to quiet ones.

Like I have always said:  Sometimes, my job drives me to drink….. and that is why I love it.




Koo Koo Kachooo, Mrs Robinson


Don’t tell anyone.

I am stoned.

Yes, kidney stoned.

Or G Bladder stoned.

Here we go again.

Back pain, nausea, discomfort, and the blahs.

I resolved to fight back!

As my doc said:  Drink a lot of water, cranberry juice and take 2 aspirins and call me in the morning.

If this persists, we will need to do some testing.

Well, I decided to do the home remedy thing: Dried Apricots.

After eating a whole bag of those ridiculous things, I felt even worse.

Finally when 5 bells rolled around, I hightailed it towards home.

I was going to pass the bar, finally…. but saw Christine and Chris’ truck there.


You two said you were busy all week and I wouldn’t see you.

Seems they had a stressful day, and it ultimately drove them to drink.

Even Jimmy, who has a thing for guinea pigs was there, fighting a cold.

The crowd took their usual positions and we went through the ritual.

Bobbie and Tim had a beer or two and left.

Scott was in, then out, then back again, admitting he prefers ground hogs to guinea pigs.

Bry and Mr Gold Splatz or whatever the hell that cinnamon drink is,  told us all about his antics with Mrs Robinson, when he was just a kid, and she was …. well, she was Mrs Robinson, ho ho ho.

I put on my greeter role and introduced complete strangers into the mix.

Colleen, our great leader, aka Othelia, kept us well fortified, as the night wore on.

I probably should have gone to my pole dancing job, but, having rocks in my gall bladder or kidneys or head, I came home to hunker down in the stone age.

And so it is:  October 17, 2017.

Another wonderful day, alive, in this amazing, magical, mysterious world.

Hope you enjoyed every minute!








Contemplating the size of a fruit fly’s brain.

Monday is a great day to detox.

I mean, it is such a crummy day, anyway. so why not take suffering to the highest degree?

For me, it was a day of fruit, nuts, cranberries, raisins, cheese, caramel dip and water.

Oh yeah, and a glass of wine.

Do I feel any better?

I do now.


Because I just finished the wine.

But there was a definite drawback.

The fruit flies were vicious, fiercely attacking the wine and the napkin that protected it.

I counted 4 of those little idiots, sitting on my napkin, at one time.

How in the hell do they know when I have a glass of wine?

I mean, does a fruit fly have a brain?

Can you imagine how small that brain is?

And yet,  they live the good life, hovering around the fermented grape juice, waiting to float in a bath of cabernet.

I must say, they are persistent pests.

They never give up.

And if you have ever tried to permanently disable one, forget it.

They flap those minute wings and sail away, just long enough for you to put your guard down.

Funny, but I don’t think they like beer.

Whenever I stop for a beer, they hang out with a different crowd.

That’s it.

Tomorrow night, I am having a beer.

There will no wine until it’s time…. winter time.

When there is frost on the pumpkin…. the fruit flies quit dunkin.

Good night all!




Never fear the greeter…. or is it the reefer?

If there is a purpose in life it must be to enjoy whatever you are doing.

First thing on this Sunday:  Hey come on down for Bloody Marys.

Wait a minute.  I am slightly hung from last night, but… well… ok, see you in 5 minutes.

2 drinks later?

Onward to the baby shower.

Not my favorite venue, but after another bloody mary at the bar, I ventured in, to celebrate K and Z’s baby.

A wonderful lunch…. and off I was… to have an after dinner drink.

About an hour later, S Belle shows up and we move on to have a night cap.

Well, let me say this about that: A night cap, my ass.

How about 3 of those babies, along with the visit from little Maddie.


Hey Maddie: How old do you think C Butt is?

She says 90

Ok, and Sissy Belle?


Wait a minute. How old are you?



Ok, so I assume the role of the greeter…. or is it the reefer?  And welcome everyone who walks through the door.

And then?

Patti takes off, without me.

What a hoot.

Let’s just say this about that:

I am home.

The Vikings won.

I feel like a wrinkled, frizzled up weenie.

However, tomorrow?

I will rise from the ashes.

The Chicken Butt will storm the working world with incredible nonsense.

And live every moment.

After all, at her age, she never buys green  bananas.

You know why.




It’s true! Jersey girls rule!

Girls just wanna have fun.

Oh yeah, girls, they want to  have fun.

And fun, they had.

The 3 Jersey Girls invaded the Pennsy scene and took the world by storm.

Maureen:  You remember her, right?

In the midnite hour, she cried maur, maur, maur.

With a rebel yell, Bill cried Maur, Maur Maureen.


Does he ever shut the F up?

And then there is Ronny.

What a hoot she is.

She can sit back, analyze what is going on, and predict the future.

What a wonderfully bright and crazy woman.

And they were here to visit, the 3rd member of the Irish Mafia, Sissy Belle.

So happy I got to meet them….. even if it was my first time ever at a bar… and having a drink.

I must say it was an afternoon of complete nonsense.

I was the only sober one: A face in the crowd.

Well, I got the hell out of the joint when Charles Barkley got a little goofy.

And Bill hit on Maureen.

And I almost shot the deputy.

Ok I shot the sheriff, but I didn’t shoot the deputy.

Thanks, Rainman, for the drinks and laughs.

My memory tonight?

It goes back many years.

To a time when the King and I was a popular venue.

I should have danced all night.

Or was that I could have danced all night.

Whatever ….. As I told Barkley, buzz off turkey.

Night. night…..



Huh? It is what? 8pm?

Want to hear something ridiculous?

I thought I had a wild night.

Is it midnite?


It is 8pm.

I am home.

In the 3 hours since I left work, I had the time of my life.

2 glasses of wine, before moving on to the patio of GMax and Patti.


Remind me not to get a puppy.

I am exhausted, just watching that little goof.

I have decided: kids and puppies ?  Only if you are young.

However, that little crazy pup was so engaging, so crazy, so wild, that I put aside all my issues of the day, and just laughed and laughed at his amazing antics.

A wonderful ending to an exhausting work week.

And then: Home.

Guess who was waiting for me at the door?

Yes, Puff Daddy.

We went through our nightly ritual.

Open door.

Puff is there, voicing her opinion, with a snooty attitude:  Err Err Err Err.

I feed her.

She acts like a turkey, gobbling her food.

When she has finished, she approaches me with that attitude: Err Err Err Err.

Yes, she has a limited vocabulary, but she struts around me, waiting for me to respond.

I ask her what she wants, and she looks at me like I am an idiot.

I tell her I am tired.

I am going to bed.

She slinks away, to find a comfortable spot.

I wonder:  Does she understand what I am saying?

Or do I understand what she means?

Well, either way, we seem to have this instant replay every night.

I guess it is true:  All living creatures have their rituals.

Creatures of habit.

I must admit: It is a satisfying and comforting pleasure of living.







We will not forget you , Puerto Rico!

Please do not forget our brothers and sisters in Puerto Rico.

They did not bring this tragedy on themselves.

They are hurting, need water, food, and medicine.

Such basic needs, those we take for granted.

We can, we must, we will,  join together.

Me? Religious?

I think I just might be:

Matthew 25:45b (NIV)
‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’

It’s up to you and to me.

We will not abandon those in need.










May we find the strength and devotion that will preserve and restore the lives of those who so desperately need our help.





When the regulars get together…. well….

Not for nothing…..

Come on… who says that?

It must be a NY or NJ thing.

I have no clue what it means.


I would like a pie, to go.

In Iowa:  “huh?  This is a pizza place.”

Or in Minnesota:  Want a pop?

Uhm…. Pop?

Yeah, soda pop.


And a side of pork roll.. please?

Excuse me…. what is a pork roll?

Don’t you love the way we Americans have our own lingo?

Why, just tonight, I asked Chris where Mr Winky was, and he and Mrs Chris wiggled their middle fingers.

And I mentioned to Bridge Jimmy:  So, you think the Steelers will make it to the Super Bowl?

He decked me.

In walks Patti:

She says she had to take a break from 5 animals.

I said, “Well, wait til Ray gets home. Then you will have 6.”

Bryan and Scott:  The love/hate relationship of all time.

Bry is trying to reform Scott.

Scott wants to wear a wig and do Bridge Jimmy.

I slink out the dooroooooor, after observing the craziness of another night,

like a chicken butt with a mission.

The mission?

Not for nothing, but I am half in the bag, craving a slice of pie, a pop and a pork roll.

Just one thing for tonight:

Go Cubs!




Axel? What the hell?

Such a lovely place.

Such a lovely face.

As I drove to the Hotel California, for an everything bagel and a coffee with cream,

I wondered if I would check out today….

After all, no spirits in the joint, not since 1969.

But I never left.

Instead James Wood stopped by for candy and chit chat, mostly about wine and Star Trek.

And I had a fierce run of wild, busy, crazy, before it all settled down.


Met up with Christine.

Oh yeah!

What a character.

She does the best impressions of the exorcist and other strange gnomes.

Had me in stitches.

And then, there was the “doorooooor.”

Guns and Roses, Knocking on heavens doooooor oooooor.

Talk about silly.

Even strangers got into it, every time someone came in the doorooooor.

As I left, I growled at Christine:  “Hey, girrrrrrrrrrrrrrl, I am going out the dooroooooooooooooor.”

Home now.

Just had a slight problem getting the key in the (yes, you know what I am gonna say)




Positively, a mummified day.

Another Monday.

I wait, in bed, for the first sign of daylight.

Too bad it is after 6am.

Are you kidding?


I race around, feeding the cat who bites, making a cup of coffee, and jumping into the shower.

As soon as I jump in the car, the sun shines….. right in my face, for the 11 miles to Dunkin D’s.

Oh wait! It is pot luck day.

Since I have no pot, I am out of luck and stop for a Hello Kitty ice cream cake.

For the next 4 or 5 hours, time flies, as I try to gather my thoughts, with an infected cat bite and  terrific pain in my back.

When it comes time for team building, I turn into a mummy.

Yes, a  toilet paper mummy.

What a gorgeous mummy I was, hopping around the training room, infected and insane.

Sure had a good time.

Then…. back to the burner.

Or was it the back burner.

I got fried, toasted and burned, in my afternoon of brutality, all because I will agree to anything, taking the sword, as I age another 10 years.


Then, 5 oclock rolls around, and I say to myself:  I see birds of blue, red roses too, but who cares?  I need a double.

And 2 doubles later, I have once again acted like a ridiculous moron, and decided to get the hell home, before someone beat the #%#%@%@#% out of me, for teasing them about the Steelers.

What a lovely sight when I got home.

Puff Daddy met me at the door, hungry and ready to bite the living @!@$@#@$ out of me.

You know what?

Cats look so soft and cute, but……

And so it is, this 9th day of October, 2017.

I have made it through another Monday, and so have you, my friend, if you are reading this.

However… if you are reading this, you really need to get a life,’

There is nothing more ridiculous than this blog.

And that is what I love about it.