"Volume XI"

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Thanks for taking the time to read, and for the four of you who read this (no I didn't have anything to do with blocking every other website on your computer forcing you to read), I apologize for the lack of writing. I've written quite a lot of material so the blogs will come more consistently.

And now to the blog...

I like to title this first snippet "The Whale Pervert"

For anyone looking to take the family on a nice day trip whale watching has always been a anticipatory event with a lot of promise but not much delivery, (kind of like when my friend Tony takes a girl out on date). As embarrassing as the dinner conversation may be with him, nothing is quite as embarrassing as answering a question from an inquisitive youngster curious about the ocean world. Grey Whale, I get it, Whale Shark, ok makes sense, even Killer, while harsh still checks out, but Sperm whale? Really? What perverted, bestialist, homosexual, marine biologist, came up with this one? What’s next? “Folks, if you look quick over the starboard you’ll see an Ejaculating Seahorse…” I can see the Sperm Whale marine biologist naming seminar now... "Johnson...watch yourself...remember the mess you got us in with Humpback? I still can't walk to my gym locker without thinking in fear about those sodomizing threat letters we got...

There is a KFC/Taco Bell near my house and it officially gets my approval as the best late night food spot ever created. However, while I find great ingenuity in fried chicken and Nachos Bel Grande as a satisfying late night meal, could there be a worse food combination for late night, drunken, gang violence in African-American / Mexican areas? This would be like serving Matzah Balls and Palestinian food at the same location and hoping for the best…

Coffee is a sure fire way to put an end to a fun evening out. At a wedding, dinner party, Barmitzfa, or wherever, the night could be going great; alcohol is flowing, people are having fun and then the kiss of death arrives; the busser with a coffee pot, like the Grim Reaper with his sickle. He or she may offer an amiable, pleasant inquisition, like “would you like cream with that?” But really they are saying, “you’ve had enough you drunken bastard, now drink this, sober up, and take a hike so I can have my way with the coat rack girl…”

Every Playboy centerfold profile always lists their guy turn ons as sweet, confident and a Sense of Humor is a MUST. Is anyone buying this? If this really was the case I would’ve dated forty Centerfolds by now, because that basically describes me, so why am I dating the homeless lady who hangs outside of 7-11?

If anyone out there is named Timmy, you have the lucky benefit of easily exceeding everyone’s’ life expectations for you. Throughout history it was always little Timmy who drowned in the bathtub, was attacked by a praying mantis, or was picked last on his T-Ball team. Basically, if you turn out anything better than a case of Polio or Jaundice you’re pretty much deemed a life success.

Til next time...