Reverend Reboot

Word got out on Facebook that I performed a wedding for a friend, and now another buddy has asked me to do the honor for his wedding this summer.  Beastly is a good friend, but just like most friendships in adulthood, I only see him once or twice a year.  When I started college, he and I became very close because all my other friends went away to school while I lived at home and commuted.  That sounds like he was a default best friend, but the truth is that the circumstances made us figure out how much we had in common.  We both loved to over analyze rock music, we both enjoyed watching stupid movies while drinking Lowenbrau, and we even both, regrettably, grew out long hair.  I wanted to look like Duane Allman, but it was Beastly who could actually play a guitar.  I just had what I thought was awesome rock star hair.  Nobody believes me that I had the golden locks, but there are pictures to prove it - those that I haven't found and burned.

His and hers Grandpa Simpson ties, while supplies last!

I'm not sure what all I will say at this ceremony, probably almost none of what you just read, but I'm sure if I just speak from the heart like the last one, then I'll do just fine.  And I'll wear the bolo tie again - my calling card.

What are you guys going to watch during Beyonce's crappy halftime performance of the Super Bowl? Me, I'm going to watch what I always watch: the Doobie Brothers episode of "What's Happening."

I just got back from another trip to see my lady, LSD, out in Los Angeles, and one highlight was definitely getting a chance to play some beach volleyball because it's cold as crap here in Chicago.  While we were playing, a bald black man walks over to the outdoor showers you use rinse sand off before going home, and he proceeds to take a full on shower with soap and shampoo.  He left his shorts on, thank God, but he did reach down there to excessively clean his junk and his butt.  It could have been considered lewd conduct the way he was lathering away on those balls.  I mean, they had to be really clean by the time he was done.

Then "Gangnam Style" came on, and he started doing the dance while he washed his nuts, at which time I just fell out laughing.  Thank you, weird guy.  I needed that laugh. 

I'm Paying Someone To Show Me How To Lift Weights

Yes, it sounds a little stupid when phrased like that, but that's exactly what I'm doing.  I signed up for a new fancy gym membership right after the holidays because I wanted somewhere to swim and because I was starting to feel out of shape.  Then they showed me my body fat percentage and I felt even fatter.  Somehow at 6'2 and between 202 and 206 pounds, I am over 21% body fat.  Impressed?  I don't even have much fat showing anywhere so I really don't know how all that lard is swimming around beneath the surface of a seemingly slim man.  Either way, when the gym guys showed me that astounding number, they were able to talk me into getting some personal training sessions.

I like my trainer guy okay.  He is around my age and pretty much just sticks to business, which I like.  Jokes are no good to me because while this guy could probably snap me like a twig, there is no way in hell he's going to be funnier than me, right?  If he was, I would fire him instantly because I at least have to be better at something than him besides posting up my whopper fat percentage.

Today he told me that he was training a "big Black guy" who is training to be a professional body builder, yet the guy gives up all the time.  So, he yelled at him in front of the whole gym and asked him repeatedly, "Does your pussy hurt?"  After hearing that story I did whatever he asked and didn't complain about a thing.  Didn't even ask for water breaks.  Actually, I am a pretty good dude to train even without the brow beating because I respond well to someone telling me what to lift, push, throw, or whatever.  I hate having to come up with routines of my own and like pushing my limits, so I am all for the abuse, even on the days when my man-pussy is aching and throbbing.

You ever have a personal trainer, readers?  How are your New Year's Resolutions coming along?

I was watching an episode of "Parenthood" online, and the commercial they chose was one for "Plan B" emergency contraception.  Is that for viewers who notice by watching the show how hard it looks to be a parent?

I know this wasn't a very good blog post and more suited to be a Facebook update, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to tell everyone I started watching "Parenthood" quite yet.

Show Yourself, Russian Readers!

Do you ever look at your blogs statistics?  It shows you what country checks out your blog the most, and not surprisingly, the U.S is way out in front.  What is surprising is that no other country has even 100 readers except Russia.  How are all these Russians finding this page?  I want to hear from you, Russia!  

I also like to check what Google searches lead to page hits, and the biggest ones are "Is Mark Wahlberg an asshole," "jackie onasis hairy pussy," and "saggy testical surgery."

Let me know what you find on your stats page, Seven Readers, and I'll respond with smart-assed remarks, as always.  

That Was One Drunk Sea Captain

Friday night I met Gung Ho out at the dueling pianos bar because I was anxious to meet his new 24-year-old girlfriend (we're slightly older).  If you haven't been to a good dueling pianos bar, you should give it a try.  They always have a couple of very witty and talented guys cracking jokes and taking requests, enough to give a man a serious case of pianist envy (did I make that up?  Probably not).  And just as a raucous night was starting to peter out, in saunters a pair of 30-something gay men, one in a ship captain's hat and both very drunk.  They were just sitting at their table, not talking to one another, looking like they were trying to take some deep breaths to avoid throwing up.  This is when I decided to write up a request saying: Can you play "Love Will Keep Us Together" by Captain & Tennille for those two boys at the back table?  That is when the evening kicked right back into high gear.


(Here is a video I found on Youtube of a night at Sluggers with people dancing with the pole on top of the piano.  I guess in this modern age you should be sure you won't be filmed if you decide to give pole dancing a whirl . . .)

The piano player with the Blackhawks jersey laughed his ass off at this notion, asked for the Captain's hat while he played that number, and launched into the song.  This was the Captain's cue, with or without the hat he brought, to dance around the stripper pole on top of the piano, drunkenly.  He then whipped his shirt off to reveal a pretty awful body and a plumber crack sticking out the back of his jeans.  It was looking like he was going to barf from all that spinning around or fall off and hurt himself, either of which would have made my night, but his partner (Tennille?) didn't seem amused or even interested in any of this as he continued to do his breathing exercises.  With a slight frame slab of a torso that went right up to his clean shaven bald head, Captain looked a lot like a real live dancing penis up there, and who would not be enthralled by that?  The security, that's who, and they came over and told Captain to put his shirt on and chill out, which he did but it wasn't easy because he continued to try to dance a little bit and he was drunker than hell; a drunk dancing penis trying to put on his shirt.

What a great night.  I woke up the next morning laughing, and when I saw my mom at dinner later that night, she laughed too when I told her about it.  Hope you enjoyed yet another tale from the bars, Seven Readers.  And now, Captain and Tennille . . .


(Doesn't Tennille sound like a bit of a controlling psycho type if you listen closely to the lyrics, like she might slice the Captain's dingy off if he ever strayed from the marriage?)

Terrible Blog Topics Jotted Down at the Bar the Other Night . . .

. . . in no particular order

1. My buddy Night Train was wondering why we have v-necks for better boob viewing when there are clearly two boobs to be seen.  Hence, why not w-neck shirts?  Be looking for that at Banana Republic very soon.

2. My other buddy Southie was talking about the plain-Jane-looking girl on 90210 that worked at the school paper with Brandon, the one that was really like 35-years-old when they started filming, and I thought for sure I heard Southie say "rape through it."  He didn't, but then we said rape through it 19 times through out the evening.  No, rape isn't funny, but the phrase was cracking us up because, well, we know each other well enough to know none of us are rapists.

"Ooh!  I know the phrase for that!"

 3. Well, if you're still reading and not crafting your angry comment lambasting me for the last topic, let me know what you think about the next one: Why is it that Matt or Matthew is such a common name, yet so few Black people are named it?  The Chicago Bears have Matt Forte, but then we were stumped.  Little help?

"You were expecting maybe LaShawn?"

4. We were all agreed that Beyonce is a super crappy choice for the Super Bowl Halftime Show, and there should be more rock bands doing it.  My prediction right here at the Gancer is that it will be the reunited 3/4 of Led Zeppelin playing it next year.  Them or Huey Lewis and the News (fingers crossed).

"Let me know when it is, once again, hip to be square."

 5. How come no one at the bar is skilled in the art of reading lips, but when we see Tom Belichick, coach of the New England Patriots, say "fucking bullshit," we all know exactly what he said?  Everyone knows how to read potty mouth lips!  I guess the lesson here is that if you're worried about someone far away reading your lips but you want to let someone know what you think of them who is in earshot, do so with unconventional disgusting phrases like "purple headed yogurt slinger" or "hatchet wound." 

Today's Inner Monologue During the Race

Don't worry, Dr. Ken, that's just pain leaving the body.  Wait, the pain is still here for sure.  The phrase is "pain is weakness leaving the body."  That makes more sense because the pain is here for sure, as is the weakness.  This just must be plain old pain.