A wise old owl said today, on facebook: I love people

A lovely day, once again.

Yes, I did post this message on facebook:   “I love people.”

Immediately, “people” accused me of being drunk,

Well, let me just say this about that:  Sometimes it is easier to love people when inebriated.


5 reasons:

  1.  Let’s say you are entering an establishment to take out dinner.  And a charming idiot greets you at the door.  “Hi! Welcome! Is it snowing?”
  2. You happen to stop by the bar for a beer and a creature in a polar bear hat smiles at you, and states:  “I am bipolar.”
  3. A stranger buys you a beer after you tell him you are retired, and have the new title of the town drunk.  He can’t wait to retire to join me.
  4. You exchange phone numbers with 21 year old hunks.
  5. At 4:20, you graciously leave, singing “Last dance with Mary Jane.

I have a theory about life:

It is short.

It can be rough.

It is not always fair.

But it is a hoot…. if you love people




Spontaneous combustion.

An ordinary day:  hungry for white pizza.

No expectations.

Probably will be the only one there, to watch the bb March Madness, while sipping on a beer and eating margarita pizza.


From one person to the next: some I knew, most I didn’t, it was a carousel of conversation, opinions and philosophy.

Ken:  What a lost soul.

Well, he was, until he met up with the Chx B.

Then the parade of the St. Patrick crowd ensued.

If you are not familiar with my modus operandi, there is no one who is safe when they walk through the door.

“Hello, how are you, won’t you tell me your name?”

Leave it to Phil to join the circus.

And when Ken and Phil left,  Chris and Scott showed up, along with the lion from the Wizard of Oz.

This phase of my life is one hell of a hoot.

Could it be that I am the illusive Wizard?

Everyone is welcome, in a truly non judgmental environment.

Just fun and laughter and being who you are.

And yes, you can go home again, even if you don’t click your red shoes together.

You just need to show up, be yourself and celebrate the moment.

Until tomorrow,




Fatty Fatty 2×4

Have ice cream in the freezer?

Or cookies on the counter?

Or cashews, chocolate covered raisins and snickers bars somewhere in the house?

Let’s assume you are on a diet, with good intentions.

Steel cut oatmeal for breakfast.

Cucumbers, peppers, onions and tomatoes for lunch.

Afternoon rolls around, and you stop for a beer.

Or maybe 2.

Appetite soars.

Ok, just a couple of slices of pizza.


I feel like a need for something sweet.

How about a hot fudge sundae?

Feeling full.


Oh hey!


Good, they are the thin ones.

I think I need to eat these before they get old…. like me.

Raisins:  Very good for diets.

A nice touch:  dipped in chocolate.

Geez, only 3 snickers left.

(not anymore)

I have decided to downsize.

I am eating the excess in this house.

Less is more.

Hungry again.

Nothing to eat around here.

Tomorrow, I vow to shop for healthy food.

After all, I am on a diet.



Don’t stop believing

After a hilariously wonderful day, I am home.

I ventured out sometime after noon, to have corned beef and cabbage, and stayed for the laughs.

When Dana arrived, Kim and I were already well into our comedy routine.

I am making up for the days, months and years of marching to someone else’s drummer.

It does my heart good to see Dana stopping by for an hour after work, to relax.

She needs a break from the stress and I am proud to be the idiot she needs to show her the way.

When the boys arrived, we shared a shot and a decadent Irish green drink, and then I was off to see the wizard, aka Puff Daddy.

Sassy little B that she is.

Strange, but true:  I left at 4:20.

Is that an omen?

Or is it my fate?

Or,  perhaps, Karma?

How long?

How long can I go on like this?

Can life really be this much fun?

Tune in tomorrow.

Or better yet,  join me, on another excursion, 3 miles from home, where the fun, laughter and movie goes on and on and on and on.





This song’s for you.

Jimmy Mack?  When are you coming  back?

He’s baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack.

We all missed his ass….. for 3 months.

The prodigal son finally returns to reunite with his dysfunctional family.

If only he had entertained us with an Elton John song.

Elton is his fav.

And he can belt it out.

I was ready to leave once the flakes started to fall, but was temporarily mesmerized by the Chris duo, along with Bry and the 2 young dudes.

Drum roll: Jimmy walks in.

It’s about time.

We have been waiting since December for his return.

Yes, I am the same as I was when you left.

(liar liar pants on fire)

I am no longer the stressed out moron who stumbles in at 530pm after a harrowing day.

I am now the village idiot or the town drunk or both.

I can’t wait until the next time we meet.

There is, after all, nothing that compares to the feeling that we have for our buddies…. no matter how long we have waited.

Life is like that.

Circumstances change.

But friendship prevails.

Welcome back Jimmy.

You have been missed.



How was I to know?

I tried to be a normal human being today, but somehow it didn’t work out.

How was I to know that winter was still blowing, as I brought the trash down the driveway in pjs?

And how was I to know that Carl would be 3 sheets to the wind when I showed up to have “lunch”?

And how was I to know that Tim would be nursing a hernia, but still looking like a Greek God?

Getting back to the original purpose of my agenda, I ordered lunch:  a salad and cheesy garlic bread.

Let’s just say that the cheesy garlic bread was a big hit with the patrons, including Carl, who was completely in the bag by this time.

Then, my buddy Dana walks in.

What a surprise!

What a hoot!

She was as gorgeous as ever, sharing a beer or two with the town drunk.

Yes, I am now widely known as the TD.

When she left, Lilly walked in.

Now, I do not know Lilly.

At least I didn’t know Lilly, before today.

She works in a winery.

We share the same birthday:  4/20.  Hers:  real.  Mine?  Well, you know.

Before I turned into a completely ludicrous creature, I had to get the heck out of Dodge, vowing, like Arnold, “I’ll be back.”

For now, it is time for reflection on the day:  What the heck went wrong?

Such good intentions.

Once again, the Chx B is foiled.

Hope I can say the same tomorrow.




The Wolf gives the working world the bird.


Or just acting out, after 50+ years of working?

I prefer to think of it as a vulgar reaction to a life of 2/3 weeks vacation, taking the sword for the gipper, stressing over the commute to work in the winter, and other ridiculous events that framed my existence.

Hung out with P Daddy in the morning, considering doing something productive, and finally deciding that I could not be bothered with anything other than indulgent behavior.

Yes, I  had a few beers.

Yes, I ate.

Yes, I enjoyed greeting and chatting with those who happened to cross my path.

Not once did I feel the need to chastise myself or to load guilt on my sorry existence.





Oh, and don’t forget:  laughter.

Someone said:  “I hate Mondays.”

I said, “Me too.”

They said: “What the hell? Liar liar, everyday is Monday for you.”

“No, I said, Everyday is Saturday.”

Hope to see you tomorrow. March 13th: Saturday.


The mind of a free range chicken butt

St Pat’s celebration today.

Corned beef, cabbage, green beer and jello shots, along with live music.

Another crazy, fun day in the life of the chicken b.

Lost an hour (day light savings).

In the past, it was a painful event, losing an hour of the weekend.


Who cares?

My inner clock has no sense of urgency.

No more scheduled responsibilities.

No need to set an alarm.

I am now a free spirit, observing the vast majority of the masses, rushing to do whatever it takes to make a living.

So what if I am not rich?

So what if I am taking my time to decide what direction I will take?

It just feels good to be me.

Tonight, it is quiet in my house:

The cat is fed.

I am having a night cap, looking forward to tomorrow.


I haven’t decided what I will do yet.

I love surprising myself.




Joy to the world

No particular plans.

Just a day to spread cheer and joy to all, after having the breakfast of champions:  Beer.

In walks Lorraine.

What a character.

She shared photos of her new home, eating French fries, all within a half hour.


Warehouse jobs:  gobble your lunch, and get the hell back.

When she left, I had a nice talk with the Banana, who is almost as deranged as I am, said goodbye to Gail and moved on.

In walks Jeanne and Matt and their daughter, along with Lindsey and what’s his name, waiting for their friends, to order lunch.

I never did get the names of the friends, but I sure had an rousing few hours with the friends of friends of friends.

It never fails:  Wherever and whenever I land, it winds up being a rip roaring afternoon.

Did I mention?

I indulged in peanut butter pie for dessert.

Oh yeah!

Oink oink.

Home now.

Another spectacular day.

But then, all days are spectacular, when you give thanks for another day on our planet.

Hope you made the most of it.



Illusions and rat’s asses

At some point in the life of an aging idiot, there comes a time of reckoning.

Are you?

Or are you not:

The Town Drunk.

Let’s look at the pros and cons.

The plus and minuses.

Take today, for example.

On second thought, let’s not.

Let us move beyond the obvious, into the twilight zone.

Had a lovely morning, with the idiot cat, who ate everything in sight, and was really pissed off when I left to pursue a life of my own.

From one establishment to another, it was a delightful exchange of conversation and laughter.

Finally, after an afternoon of the ridiculous or the sublime, depending on your attitude, I made my way back home, only to meet the idiot cat once again.

You see, it is my fate, to celebrate life with everyone I meet, while secretly harboring the guilt that the cat is hungry.

As I made me way home, 5 deer decided to do a dance in front of me, taunting me, hoping I would make my way up the road, where 3 more of their friends were waiting to dash out into my path.

Animals seem to wait for me.

They love the town drunk.

Who doesn’t?

After all, I am living the dream.


Smoke and mirrors.


And most importantly, who gives a rat’s ass?

If you can dream it, you can do it.