Foul Mouthed

I was recently told in an email that my blog here is way to foul mouthed and that I should tone it down some.

Post a comment if your in agreement.

The Patriotist

Click above

An interesting read and one that I wanted to post before the election.

Flat Tire & the funky looking Carrot

Well I was running smooth down the bike path on Sunday when suddenly a tree root decided to jump in the path of me. Pop! went the tire and my glee ridden ride abruptly came to an end. See I ride aggresive. I don't ride a 24" 75 F'ing gear Mountain bike. Screw that. Where's the workout I ask you!
(I ride a bike sane people my age have long given up on, a Haro Tr 2.2. Go ahead and google it I'll wait.... oh yeah I have it in "clay" or whatever they call the tan color. It's bad ass.)

Anyway by now your saying why don't you grow up and act your age and quit flying through the air on a bike. You have a good arguement as does my girlfriend on the subject. But my thinking is that while you can do something you should do it. Far too many people my age are getting lazy. They come home from work and plop down in front of their TV with a Hungry Man Dinner and no drive to be active other than to push a button on the remote. LAZY!

Thats not my bag, not now nor ever will be. Far too many Americans these days are becoming diabetic not because of genes or the natural onset of the disease. No they're acquiring this by their lifestyles and diets. Wake up America. You can avoid this. Eat some real foods. Buy a Wok and some peanut oil and go to town on a nightly basis. It's easy. Why are Americans so frigging dependent.

Anyway there I was in the middle of the woods with a flat and no spare tube. I took Mitzy (yeah that's my bikes name, sure beats Cucumber Bob which I wanted to call her but couldn't bring myself to do) and hightailed it for the closest boulder I could find to have a snack. Out I pulled my trusty carrots full of vitamins and tasty goodness that everyone should eat them every day. This one carrot was bent. Almost at a 70 degree angle. I said outloud "Thats a funky looking carrot!" and proceeded to gobble it down. I picked up Mitzy and started walking back up the trail. Passing along the way 2 people both weighing over 200 pounds easily walking along with their 24" Mountain Bikes while catching a cigarette. Welcome to the New American Workout.

Dans la lune

Je suis fatigué. Presque passant dehors. Ainsi j'ai choisi de dactylographier ce message en français. Ils font le bon pain.

Linking to this site

To all of you who are linking to me now I want to say A.) Thank you, and B.) As soon as I figure out how to do it I'll link to you all as well.

Henry Kabozolich III

Fuck Math

Fuck you Math. Fuck you Algebra. A big Fuck you to the cocksucker who thought up Calculus as well.

I don't get it. I know I need to learn you all in order to hang a degree above my desk but let's get serious here. I'm not going into a supermarket and trying to figure out the following:

A= Pepperoni
B= Monterrey Jack Cheese

168.809 - 456789(A- 234 lbs) = B (agoogle x your mother) / 74.68901

NO!

I go in like this:

"Pepperoni and Cheese sounds pretty fucking tasty for todays game! I wonder where they keep the Super Pretzels. All this adds up to $8. I have a $10 bill! This means I'm getting back $2! Sweet.

So Fuck you algebra and calculus and trigonometry because I just made you all completely irrelevant to me in my daily life.

The drive to work

While driving through North Philly on my way to work today I stopped at a red light behind what looked to be an early 80's Datsun light truck. It was painted a metallic Olive green with rust colored trim wrapping around the vehicle. The rims on the truck were close to 18"and all chromed out. Really quite the fetching vehicle.

But what really caught my eye was the graphic on the back window.
"Peeps to my Old Head, may you forever puff the blunt. Joe J. 1978-2004"

How touching! I only wish I had a camera.

Monkey Butlers

I you found this place thanks to that post over on gt.com you just won a prize. And frankly way too much time on your hands to go out and search for Monkey Butlers.

I'll buy the first three people who reply to this a beer whenever I see them in "real" life.

Fuck I was going to buy it anyway but now I have a reason.


Oh yeah, Kingdom Under Fire fucking rules. Just beware my balloons. They're nastier than an ex-wife with a dull knife on a Wednesday evening who comes in to ruin your viewing of that piece of shit Ken Jennings and his never ending dominance of Jeopardy.

Now thats a fucking blog entry if I 've ever read one.

Which I haven't.

Fantasy #4

The scent of the night before intermixed with that of freshly brewed tea, newspaper ink and the smell of the ocean as it permeates the psyche in ways you never even imagined it could. Nothing on under the covers, everything left on the floor. I wish we lived in Cape May just for those late Sunday Mornings.