3/17/12 Kiss Me

3/17/12, 3:32 AM; Crap, crap, crap, the train was late, I was late, now it's late. I told everyone I was getting up for St Paddy's day breakfast. I try really hard to keep my word. It's a rule or something I'm pretty sure. Maybe I should just keep going. Party! Party! naaaw! No matter how much my 20 year old brain wants to party my 50 year old body says no. Damn you 50 year old body. St Paddy's day is when everybody is Irish. Let me see... Larocco, Humpfelt, Triggs, Pederson. Apparently not me though. Italian, German, Welsh (Doh! So close!) and Danish + I'm 3rd generation which makes me completely and totally American. Wait I have a button...

... a button changes everything.

 Thank God! I was afraid I was going to have to wear those stupid shamrock deelyboppers to fake being Irish. I fell asleep thinking about how lame that would look...

Idiot, you forgot your pants again!

3/17/12, 6:38 AM: ... I don't want to get up! This is a bad idea. I partied in the 70's that was plenty for any one life time. Hell, there are still stains on the sidewalk in front of the Roxy. (The Bradford Ballroom at the time Hoo! Ha!). You can't expect a man that partied in the 70's to party in Haverhill, that's like asking Tom Brady to hold for extra points. Crap, crap, crap I gave my word. I have to go, it's a rule or something.

3/17/12, 7:05 AM; ...hmmm, the shower feels pretty good... really good in fact. Maybe I'll just stay here in the shower all day. I love hot showers. Besides I don't have anything green to wear, well except for that thing in the back of the closet, but that isn't even supposed to be green and besides the last time I went that far into the closet something bit me.

3/17/12, 8:20 AM; ... walking to Archie's because I keep my word. It's a rule or something.

Ha, I'm using this picture again.

3/17/12, 8:35 AM; ... coffee + a shot of Baileys + a breakfast buffet. Not bad, they even made red and gray corned beef. If you don't remember what I think of the great gray and red corned beef wars you can read about it here. 30 or 40 customers milling about, all but 2 male. It looks like what a gay bath house would look like if everyone inside was fully clothed and looked like their career was  sanitation worker. My group has one of the women so don't tell me we don't know how to party.

3/17/12, 9:32 AM; ... hear the first "YeeHaa" of the day. It is always a bad sign when middle-aged white people scream Yeehaa! Actually any cutting loose by middle-aged white people usually requires excessive alcohol. In the early morning hours no good can come of that. Thank the Lord I have my button, all 3 bartenders are wearing  shamrock deelyboppers. Fay is the only one that doesn't look stupid. How come women can wear stupid stuff and not look stupid? I order a Dark'N'Stormy. 1 part rum to 2 parts ginger beer over ice in a highball glass. Add a squeeze of lime. Not an Irish drink, but so what? It's St Paddy's day. I'm not Irish I'm just pretending to be, so as long as I get drunk everything is cool. It's a rule or something.

3/17/12, 10:45 AM; "YeeeeeHaaaaa!"

3/17/12, 10:46 AM; Time to go to Smithy's. The score after a 2 and a half hour hang at Archie's; 1 baileys + coffee, 2 Dark'N'Stormys, "Shipping Up to Boston" by the Dropkick Murphy's was played 2 times on the jukebox,  "Danny Boy" by Bing Crosby was played 1 time on the jukebox and I ate enough eggs + corned beef to fill the caloric needs of 4 African chocolate harvesting slave children.

3/17/12, 11:17 AM; Smithy's is full but not jammed. The lady factor might have climbed to 30%. Everyone looks like either they where in a fight last night, ladies included, or they were left out in the sun and they started to melt. A lot look like both. Wasn't this a Twilight Zone episode? Everyone's settling or making March madness bets. The only nod to St Paddy's day was the sign out front and the barmaids wearing shamrock deelyboppers on their heads. They both looked fine. Damn you women and your stylish ways.

3/17/12, 11:30 AM; Everyone else orders BlueMoons. I order water. I'll switch to Budweiser when the Bruins game comes on.

3/17/12, 12:35 PM; "Shipping Up To Boston" has played 3 more times since I walked in, no "YeeHaas" yet. I finally had to spend a buck of my own to play Bing. "The Departed" was a kick-ass movie and the Dropkick Murphys are a great live band but is everyone just too cool to enjoy a little rank sentimentality? Does anger create more authentic art than sweetness? I'm having a Bud now, screw it, the game will be on in 20 minutes.

3/17/12, 1:01 PM; Juke box off, bruins on. Yee Haa!

3/17/12, 03:15 PM; "YeeHaa! Bruins win! Beers for everybody!" It was a shoot out though which is crap. One of our guys gets luckier than one of their guys in a contrived and artificial add on to what was a great game. Instead of overtime in football they should just have 5 guys see who can throw the football the farthest. Still, winning isn't everything it's the only thing. In America that's a rule or something. USA! USA! Bruins win!

3/17/12, 04:15 PM; Time to hit the Peddlers Daughter. The tally after a 5 hour hang at Smithy's is 3 glasses of water, 4 Budweiser, 7 plays of "Shipping up to Boston", 1 play of "Danny Boy", 1 overly fatty grey corned beef sandwich that African children would probably refuse to eat and a Bruins victory.

Owned and run by actual Irish people.

3/17/12, 04:23 PM; Big line waiting to get into Peddlers. They are doing live music so no worries about  "Shipping Up to Boston". The line is full of well behaved celebrants that are just loose enough to make the sidewalk a party and one huge goomer sipping from a flask and wearing a little tiny leprechaun hat on his shaved head, it's like a party hat only it's held on with one of those deely bopper bands. The guy is massive but no one is going to tell him he looks ridiculous, it's "St Paddy's day Beyond Thunder-dome". Goomer keeps telling his extremely attractive girlfriend that he's had it and the next guy that messes with her "is going down". She just rolls her eyes. He keeps saying it loud enough to make sure we all know she's his property. Does she know that she is his property? She tries to shush him but he shakes off her hand and glares at the nebbishy fellow in front of him who is making a disgusted face well out of his ability to back up without a police escort. What fun!

3/17/12, 4:42 PM; Time to move on, the line isn't moving, big goomer is getting increasingly vocal about the line not moving, hot girlfriend looks about ready to storm off, and I'm hungry. No tally for the Peddlers.

3/17/12, 05:01 PM: Hans Garden is jumping way more than I would have though.

Surprisingly good chow for a Chinese bar 45 miles from Boston

The staff are all dressed in their leprechaun clothes which brings out a knee jerk reaction from that this is some kind of Irish minstrel show, that it is insulting and they shouldn't be doing it. Because Chinese people are different from Italian, Welch, German, Danish mixed breeds like me how? Shame on me again, they have as much right to be fake Irish as I do. Where do all the wrong things I think come from? Why can't I get rid of them? Do they qualify me to be a priest or a republican congressman? "Shipping Up to Boston" is blasting away as I walk in. Stop, please stop!

3/17/12, 05:10 PM: There is a buffet with corned beef and cabbage! Nooo! Enough with the Dropkicks and the corned beef! I order a Fog Cutter. Christy the tall blond bartender is wearing something that was probably supposed to make her look Irish but instead makes her look like the St Paulie Girl. This is not a complaint. The rest of the staff is all Chinese and under 5'5", It's Snow White and the 7 Leprechauns! Christy's big goomer boyfriend is going to play guitar so at least they shut off the Dropkicks. Do all tall pretty girls have to have goomer boyfriends? I think it is a rule or something.

3/17/12, 05:21PM: I order a hot and sour soup (really, really good here) and broccoli in garlic sauce ( Damn good also). Christy makes a pouty face because I don't want the buffet. She cooked it at home, "Don't you just want to try it?" If there is one reason I will be forever single (yeah, yeah I know, you could all name at least 50) it's the pouty face. I Hate the Pouty Face!

3/17/12, 05:52 PM: Time to leave, Goomer is singing Jim Croce songs. Jim Croce? How does anyone 10 years younger than me even remember Jim Croce? He must be saving the Irish Rovers for his encore. The tally for a 1 hour hang at Hans garden is 2 fog cutters, a great meal, 1 "Shipping Up to Boston" no Bing.

3/17/12, 06:05 PM: I'm standing in front of Hans looking across the street. The Chit Chat has a live band! Yea! The door is open and I can hear them playing "Shipping Up to Boston". I will never be able to watch "The Departed" again.

An actual live music club. It's like a museum only with drinks and fights.

3/17/12, 6:08 PM; I was going for the Chit Chat anyway when I notice Big goomer #1 coming up the street minus his girlfriend. His little hat was askew and he had replaced the flask, or put the flask in, a brown paper bag. Very old school. He stopped a couple he came across for an animated conversation  the boyfriend  pointed at the Chit Chat while his girlfriend tried to pull down his arm. My survival instincts tell me it might be a good idea to skip the Chit Chat for the near future and to go back to Archie's. Does that make me a wiener?

3/17/12, 6:32 PM; Archie's is jammed. I get one more Dark'N' Stormy but there is no place to sit, no place to lean, and no place to stand where you aren't being pushed and bumped constantly. All the women that weren't there this morning are here now, because getting pushed and shoved while surrounded by big goomers that have been drinking since 8 AM is fun? I see 50% pouty faces, the goomers move around like I do not have a corporal form which is not fun since I am around elbow hight,  and "Shipping Up to Boston" is playing on the jukebox. Time to go home.

3/17/12, 7PM; The tally for the day is, 3 Dark'N'Stormys, 2 Fog Cutters, 4 Budweisers, 1  Baileys and coffee, 1 breakfast buffet, 1 fatty corned beef sandwich, 1 hot and sour soup (best ever), 1 broccoli in garlic sauce, no interest from the ladies, 12 plays of "Shipping Up to Boston", 2 plays of Bing's "Danny Boy" a Jim Croce medley that will haunt me for days to come, a mildly satisfying bruins victory, damn you shoot-out solution, tons of walking, and home alone completely sober on Saturday night. Sweet hang! Another great day.


3/18/12, 5 PM; If you have half a brain after a day of wandering and a good nights sleep you went out for breakfast today. Fine, but now it's evening, brunch is wearing off, and you spent too much yesterday to justify ordering out. Well, if you're backed up with boiled dinner in your fridge and you are watching the Southie parade on television your answer is keep it simple. Bubble and Squeak! Mmmm! Bubble and squeak!

Better than it looks.

1. Pull the left over boiled dinner out of the fridge.
2. Pick out the potatoes and turnips. (What! no turnips? shame on you. So just go with the potatoes).
3. Mash them up with a squirt of cream, pepper, salt ( only if they were cooked in a different pot than the corned beef otherwise pass) and a tablespoon or 2 of flour. 
4. Take everything else in the pot, beef, cabbage, carrots, parsnips, whatever, and chop it fine. An onion is a good idea.
5. Then chop it fine again.
6. Then mince it. You want it minced but resist the urge to use the food processor you don't want goo.
7. Fold the minced boiled dinner into the mashed potato/turnip (you really should learn to like turnips).
8. Form into patty's then refrigerate for a half hour or so. You want the flour to absorb some of the liquid you've freed. 
9. Melt some butter, Mmm butter! in a cast iron skillet.
10. Get it hot, but watch it. Once it stops foaming you want to add your patty's. Butter, Mmmm butter! will burn.
11. Let a crust form. Try and flip too soon and you will have a mess in the pan so patience is important. Use plenty of butter too. More oil will help make the crust form without sticking. It won't make things greasy if the oil temperature is hot enough. These things are not really going to be healthy no matter what you do. Trying to get around the fat calories by using a no stick pan will also get you nowhere, a crust won't really form in non-stick pans unless you have the really expensive calphalon kind.
12. 3 minutes a side in a hot pan is all you need.

If you want you can just serve this as is with a garden salad or you could hold back the corned beef at the chopping phase, slice it, and heat it in the left over broth. Dark bread would be nice on the side as would a soft farmers cheese.

St Paddy's day as observed in this country was invented in this country. It was a holy day of obligation in Ireland. That meant church not parties. It's only recently that our faux celebration migrated across the Atlantic to infect the home country and I'm cool with that. Anything that gets us all grooving together is worth keeping, even if it includes a Jim Croce sing-a-long between chinese leprechauns and a big goomer with a guitar. It should be a rule or something.

Gimme Shelter.

This winter sucks. Valentine Day sucks. The Republican war on sanity sucks. Working for a living sucks. The economy sucks. Me trying on my summer speedo sucks. The price of gasoline sucks. Working on Fat Tuesday sucks. Getting an extra leap year day in February instead of in July sucks. Saint Patty's Day is coming on a Saturday so I can't blow off work and will have to drink with amateurs, which sucks. I'm still short, which sucks. They only managed to table the Blunt amendment by a 51 to 48 vote after it passed in the house, plus Olympia Snow voted against it which means a bunch of democrats voted for it, which sucks. Lindsey Lohen hosted Saturday Night Live, which sucks. A silent movie seen by 14 people won the Oscar for best picture, which sucks. STOP, STOP, STOP! Am I kidding me? This is the winter of my discontent?

It must be, I have a button.

So I guess I was feeling a little down this winter. I didn't get the girl, I didn't change the world, I didn't get rich, I didn't win an Olympic gold medal in luge, I never danced with the bulls, I never learned how to bowl overhand, this blog is still several million hits behind "Cat falls off a TV". I guess it is pretty safe to say things didn't turn out exactly the way I wanted. That's no excuse to spend the winter moping around feeling sorry for myself. The speedo alone was worth a good laugh.

...and yet I am still a babe magnet.

Then Milly died and all the things that seemed to suck didn't matter anymore ( except the speedo which I had to cut off with scissors because it was chafing). Milly dying was simply profoundly and totally sad. Milly dying was expected. Milly dying was all of us losing a sweet, funny lady. Milly dying was a serious gut punch to a narcissistic blogger that was having trouble blogging because he was feeling sorry for himself. Milly dying was a bit of real intruding on all the imagined hardships I wallow in to justify my surly moods and rude demeanor.

We are a particularly rude people.

The only way to really honor Milly, who had a smile for everyone and knew the value of a budwiser and a laugh, was to snap out of it. It really isn't hard if you just try. For example you could play the new Black Keys album. The first two songs offer up a crunchy bass line so enjoyably dirty even nuns and Imen have to start grinding after a quick listen. You could invite some people over for dinner and impress yourself with the brajole you made until the homemade cannoli R brought put you back in your place. You could go to K's for brunch and wallow in her french toast casserole with blueberries, or you could skip eating it altogether, throw on some Black Keys, and just roll in it, it was that good. You could vote on Super Tuesday not because there is anything on the democratic side of the ballot that needs immediate attention but because it's the least you can do as a citizen of this country. If you are a republican good for you there was all kinds of choices on the ballot so you vote is actually important. You could go to your town party caucus and get elected to be a delegate to the state convention (yea me!). You could go to Archie's on Tuesday night, 24 taps no waiting, or you could wait until Saturday (St Patty's day) and add a fine Irish breakfast at 8AM. Then you could tear up Haverhill for 16 hours of revelry. The key of coarse is to not to bum about the things you are missing, but rather savior the things you have. You could skip the John Carter Hollywood extravaganza and just be glad you read all 12 of the books ( 7 now out of print) when you were a kid. You could with a whiff of kindness feel bad for a new generation that won't ever experience the quit awesomeness of Carter, or Tarzan, or Remo Williams, or Oz, or Conan. Instead of rolling your eyes and saying " kids now-a-days" like they just told you they don't like chocolate and don't understand people that do, you should just saver  all of the cool stuff the future has brought then double saver  all the great things that were around when you where a kid that they will never experience. Just turn off the Black Keys and put on some Funkadelic, then turn that off and put on some Rolling Stones, then turn that off and put on  some John Lee Hooker. And leave that nun alone!

Whoa! Writing, typing? or streaming? I'll slow it down for something tasty. While I would love to give you the recipes for the cannoli or the french toast casserole ( maybe there is room for guest bloggers down the line) I'm going to keep it simple with the pasta coarse I served at the cannoli dinner.

Keeping it simple.

This is incredibly easy, and while not a cannoli, is incredibly good. You will need 1/3 pound of prosciutto cut thick, a cup of cream, not half and half, not milk, cream! a large shalliot, 3 garlic cloves, some sage leaves, a pound of pasta, and butter, Mmmm butter!

1. The prosciutto will have a thick layer of fat in it. This is a good thing. With a sharp knife separate the fat from the lean, 2 strokes should do it. Then dice them up small keeping the fat separate from the meat.
2. Melt the butter Mmm butter! in a skillet over medium heat.
3. Dice the shallot, not an onion a shallot.
4. Chiffonade the sage. (Look it up, duh!)
5. Crush the garlic with the side of your knife blade then mince fine with a sprinkle of salt.
6. Once the butter starts to brown add the prosciutto fat
7. When the fat renders and becomes crisp add the shallot and sage.
8. When the shallot becomes translucent add the prosciutto lean. Keep everything moving for 2 minutes. Use a spatula or a wooden spoon, Duh!
9. Add the garlic.
10. Have the cream ready. Before the garlic begins to brown, 30 seconds maybe, you need to toss it in.
11. While all this was going on I hope you cooked the pasta. When you do leave it underdone so it will finish in the cream sauce.
12. Toss it with the cream sauce. Work it in the pan so it gets coated with the cream and finishes cooking.
13. Pecorino romano would be nice on top, or parmesan, or gorgonzola. Go nuts.
14. Between the salt you added to the garlic, the prosciutto, and the romano you won't need to salt this dish. (if you were wondering).
15. This will taste like sex, it would be my go to Valentines day recipe if I believed in Valentines day, so throw the Black Keys on and see if that nun is still around.

I know it took me a long time to do this post. Sorry, but living is easy, blogging is hard. I really was in a funk. It really was self-indulgent BS. It really did take a real tragedy to shake me out of my whiny baby downer. Milly was the best, and even though I have my doubts about heaven I'll bet a whole paycheck that right now there are a mess of seraphim having a beer and a laugh.

All You Need Is Love! ( and Butter, Mmm butter!)

So here are 4 reasons you don't need Valentine's Day.

Nothing says love quite like machine formed sugar.

First of all Valentine's Day has become an obligation. If you don't make a romantic gesture you're an ass. The problem is romance is only romantic when it comes from the heart. So when the chocolate, roses, and diamonds show up you have to ask yourself, " Does he love me? Or does he not want to get in trouble?",  You'll never know until you find that thong in his coat pocket after a weekend "working late". Worse is if nothing shows up. Now your whole existence is in flux, "Did he really forget?", "is he that stupid?", "WTF happened to us?". Finally did you really want the nighty made out of silk, wire, and cutouts? No, I didn't think so. Cancel out Valentine's Day and it will just be Tuesday. You never get chocolate, diamonds, and roses on Tuesday so it is just another day. No test of love, no anguish of forget, no torture garment disguised as a gift.

Second of all a huge amount of the worlds chocolate comes from Africa where child slaves do most of the harvesting and prepping of the cocoa beans. Beans is misleading though because they are the size of a small coconut and need to be opened with a machete. I can't think of a better job for a nine year old slave than whacking things with a machete for ten hours a day.

I guess its better than prostitution or death, besides I get a machete.

You can buy fair trade chocolate but you have to look for it. Check for nation of origin. Now free market people will tell you that, "Hey, that's the system over there. Who are we to interfere with free markets?". To which I reply what part of "slave" do you not understand? Enjoy your molten lava cake. Mmmm cake!

Third of all diamonds are a complete fraud. Until the 1870s diamonds were almost impossible to find, but that was only because everyone was looking in the wrong places. Suddenly colonialism opened up Africa and shazam diamond production went from pounds per year to tons per day. Uh, oh! The then investors in diamonds, realizing that there was a reason seawater was so cheap, did what rich people always do. They formed a mining cartel ( not a company, company at least implies competition) with the approval of various colonial powers like Britain and The Netherlands. They called it the Debeers mining company. Then they completely and artificially controlled the entire world-wide supply. Still Uh oh! But better. What if they increased demand too? Engagement rings, weddings, Valentine's Day, diamonds used to be too scarce for anyone but royalty, people didn't think about buying them, but when you have tons of crappy ones and all the PR money in the world you can start some traditions of your own.

Plus there were plenty of black people the weren't farming cocoa.

I miss my childhood machete.

Finally Valentine's Day comes in February. It's cold in February. Roses do not bloom in February which is why they cost so much. They cost so much back in the twentieth century because they all came from a hothouse. Now they all come from Columbia. That's right, your roses were hanging south of the equator mere days ago. Now since there are no black people to speak of in Colombia slavery and peasant labor was in. Nothing makes a sharecropper happier than being forced to grow flowers instead of food. You can gather around the rose cellar, put up some rose jam, ignore grandma's cough just because roses require massive pesticide dumps to grow in a jungle is nothing to be worried about, and hope that Starbucks offers fair trade roses with their fair trade coffee and Joni Mitchell compilation disc.

Though I was making it up didn't you?

Cancel Valentine's Day. Instead just love em the way you wish you were loved. Cinnamon toast, flat ginger ale, and clean the bathroom when she has the flue. Just rub his shoulders when you know he had a bad day even though you had a bad day too. Kiss once and awhile, do it in public. Maybe a little sex hold the begging. Take her side. Listen. Listen so you could repeat it if you had to. Go on dates. Dress up once and awhile. You know the drill.

So it's winter, it's cold, you're snuggling up in front of a fire, time for something so satisfying it will make your toes curl. No, not sweaty uncomfortable couch sex, " Where did that oreo come from?", duh, I meant hot chocolate.

Thank you pathetic slave children.

You will need a 12 ounces of 85% fair trade dark chocolate, 2 cups of milk, 2 cups of cream, teaspoon vanilla, marshmallows, and Baileys to taste.

1. Chop the chocolate fine and place in a bowl.
2. Heat the cream until it boils.
3. Immediately pour the cream over the chocolate. Stir until the chocolate melts.
4. Meanwhile heat the milk. Do not let it boil or a skin will form. ( why milk does this and cream does not is a mystery).
5. Add the chocolate back to the saucepan.
6. Remove from the heat then stir in the vanilla and as much Baileys as you want.
7. Fill to cups, top with marshmallows.
8. Snuggle.
9. Aw crap, you might as well have sweaty uncomfortable couch sex too, I did.
10. Next year, a partner!

A small aside. Artificial diamonds have been indistinguisable from natural diamonds for over ten years. How much longer must we prove are love with something that costs the same to make as a Happy Meal toy?

Echos

Senior died last week. I worked with him and his crew on Monday. We were all laughing, working hard, getting things done. It was always about getting things done with him, and enjoying yourself while you were doing it. He had a son who he was working for, a daughter he loved, and a team that hung on every story, followed every suggestion and emulated every example he set. On Wednesday he went home from work feeling ill. He was 49. Junior and the crew were, are, will always be devastated.

Kevin White died last week. He was the mayor of Boston when I was a kid. Or you could say he was the mayor of Boston when Boston was a second rate city simmering with racial tension. That was when the South End was rubble and slums, when Quincy market was just a shell, when the elevated train rumbled down Washington Street, and the demolition for the I-95 that was never going to be built left a gash through Roxbury and Dorchester. Boston still has it's problems but 35 years and a few other hardworking Mayors have turned that rat-trap of a city I knew into what is a pretty livable place. People of all political stripes are devastated.

Etta James died last week. She was a R+B singer with a smokey voice, a heroin habit, and the luck and talent to have created one of the greatest songs of all time. "At Last" is the movie soundtrack to every romance anyone ever dreamed about. I don't know if creating a piece of expression way bigger than you can ever be is a blessing or a curse, but I know that if you are a music lover, regardless of your preferred genre, you are devastated.

My friends cousin killed himself last week. He called his mother and told her he was tired. He called his father and told him he was done. Then he hung himself. I did not know him, I do not know his state of mind, but I know that he threw away the one, true gift that the universe tosses our way. The people that loved him are devastated.

I don't know about God. Neither do you. You have your faith, I have my doubts. I know echos though. Ripples in space and time that follow us after we are gone. The things we embrace, the things we crave, are only with us for a blink of an eye. Todays paper had a blurb about a store that was selling a magnificent $20 a pound cheese. Breathless reporting that is really advertising aimed at people that will never get that no matter how good a piece of cheese can be it will never be $20 good. I would take one more story from Senior any day. I will walk the Boston City streets this weekend with the memory of the way it used to look. I'll start my romance soundtrack in my head every time a girl takes my breath away. I'll savior creations gift to me all the more because it should not, cannot, be wasted.

May my echos be as profound.

I miss Tim Tebow.

It was all so simple then.

Tim Tebow was just a big goofy linebacker looking quarterback that seemed to have Jesus on his side. Either you believed it was true, believed it was true but didn't think Jesus helped rig football games, or knew it was nonsense. Even the serious stomping at the hands of the Patriots probably didn't change one mind on the subject. It was a non-story sports story with a shelf life and no harm no foul. Even if you were part of the nonsense crew you probably had to admit that Tebow seemed to be a fine young man that you would want to date your daughter. Ah early January, the good old days.

I speak truth to power!

Last week Tim Tomas snubbed the White House and President Obama when the Bruins were invited to visit as part of their Stanley Cup victory tour. Cue the usual mindless uproar. " He wouldn't have done that to Bush" "Can you imagine if a liberal had done that to a conservative president?" "At least respect the office". Blah, blah, blah. Who cares what Tim Tomas does? Tim Tomas, liberals, conservatives, jews, Nascar fans, Hell's Angels, scientologists, left handed fry cooks, effete eastern eggheads, CEOs, strippers, one legged place kickers, hell, everybody has the right to do all the snubbing they want. This is America baby. Land of the free where rugged individualists take no guff from anyone, where speaking truth to power is embedded in our genes, where doing only what we want when we want is a constitutional birth right not to be trifled with, I heard it on talk radio.

Which is our problem in a nutshell. There are 20 people on a hockey team. There were twenty players plus other personal invited to the White House. You want to make a political point by snubbing the President fire away. I'll back you with my last breath and I don't care if you are a liberal, a conservative or a nazi ( although nazi's being invited to the White House would give me pause). On the other hand if you want to make a political point, or even just make everybodies day about you because "Hey, look at me I'm blowing off the president," you are taking a big dump on your teammates special day and I think you're a selfish, over privileged jackass. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and do stuff you don't want to do because other people want you to. Our divorce rate would be 100% if there was no sucking. The divorce rate would plummet to 0% if there was plenty of sucking. So think about some one other than yourself and suck it up once and awhile.

Other selfish, over privileged jackass' would include Larry Bird, Manny Rameriaz, James Harrison, Michael Jordan, Dan Hampton, Mark Chumora ( blew off Clinton because Clinton was immoral, was later arrested for sleeping with the underaged friend of his daughter), but it doesn't stop there,  snubbing is a fine American tradition. William Lowell, Ex-President Herbert Hoover, William Faulkner, Angelina Jolie, Susan Boyle, Jesse Helms, John Bonher ( 3 different times) are all snubbers found with a quick google search. Doing it is your right, so is farting in public, but I'm thinking maybe things would be a little better if we refrained from both.

Look's like cheating to me.

Meanwhile the NFL gave us the usual "we didn't lose we got screwed" crap that I hear year after year. For a bunch of macho, 300lb, roid-raging he-men these guys seem to have an awful hard time admitting that they just lost. Take away the blow-outs where whining that you should have won just makes you look really stupid and I dare anyone to listen to an NFL post game interview where someone doesn't bitch about the officiating or the other team. Well, I guess the Pat's have cheated themselves to yet another Super Bowl so screw it, let's forget about our nation of crybabies, snubbers, and self indulgent big-shots and party like it's Armageddon. Mmm Armageddon!

01/26/11: Before I do the recipe I would like to mention that when I started to write about blowing off the White house 2 days ago, the media, the talking heads, and the public were in standard discourse mode.

Funny thing though, almost everyone except the really partisan donkeys pretty much came around to my point of view. So deep breaths people, take your time, don't break your neck jumping to a conclusion ( that includes the fat boy writting this) just because the media speedballs a story. Sometimes I think I'm the only right thinking person in this world. Apparently not. Shame on me.

Now the best cure for shame would be some football and some sliders.

.or just some sliders.

Slider 1: Beef
              You will need 12 diner rolls, an onion, 1 lb. of ground beef, butter, Mmm butter! flour, milk, cheese+ slices of more cheese (any kind of cheese will be fine, but maybe a nice smoked gouda would be better).

1. Split the dinner rolls then line them up on a jelly roll pan that has been lined with foil.
2. Brown the beef (salt and pepper here please) in a cast iron skillet. Once all the pink is gone remove to a bowl.
3. Dice the onion small, then run your knife threw it a couple of times to really shred it small.
4. Melt 2 tablespoons of butter, Mmm butter! in the skillet. When it foams add the onion.
5. Cook for 2 or 3 minutes then add the flour. Cook stirring constantly for 3 or 4 more minutes.
6. Add 1 cup of milk and stir, It should be thick.
7. Pour the béchamel into the bowl of meat. Mix well.
8. Add at least 8 ounces of shredded cheese ( you did shred the cheese right?) Mix well.
9. Slap a glob of the meat mixture on each roll bottom.
10. Add a slice of cheese on top.
11. Cover with the roll tops.
12. Then cover the whole thing with foil. Bake at 350 degrees for twenty minutes.

Slider 2: Mushroom

              You will need 12 diner rolls, an onion, 2 lb. of mushrooms, fresh thyme, butter, Mmm butter! flour, milk, cheese+ slices of more cheese (any kind of cheese will be fine, but maybe a nice swiss would be better).

1. Split the dinner rolls then line them up on a jelly roll pan that has been lined with foil.
2. Saute the mushrooms in butter (salt and pepper here please) in a cast iron skillet. Once all the pink is gone remove to a bowl.
3. Dice the onion small, then run your knife threw it a couple of times to really shred it small.
4. Chop a tablespoon of fresh thyme.
5. Melt 2 tablespoons of butter, Mmm butter! in the skillet. When it foams add the onion+thyme.
6. Cook for 2 or 3 minutes then add the flour. Cook stirring constantly for 3 or 4 more minutes.
7. Add 1 cup of milk and stir, It should be thick.
8. Pour the béchamel into the bowl of meat. Mix well.
9. Add at least 8 ounces of shredded cheese ( you did shred the cheese right?) Mix well.
10. Slap a glob of the mushroom mixture on each roll bottom.
11. Add a slice of cheese on top.
12. Cover with the roll tops.
13. Then cover the whole thing with foil. Bake at 350 degrees for twenty minutes.

Slider 3: Chicken

You will need 12 diner rolls, an onion, two chiles(any kind will do, you know your heat tolerance), 1 lb. of boneless chicken, butter, Mmm butter! flour, cheese+ slices of more cheese (any kind of cheese will be fine, but maybe a nice pepper jack would be better).

1. Split the dinner rolls then line them up on a jelly roll pan that has been lined with foil.
2. Poach the chicken in a sauce pan. Once all the pink is gone shred and remove to a bowl.
3. Dice the onion small, then run your knife threw it a couple of times to really shred it small.
4. Dice the chiles the same way.
5. Melt 2 tablespoons of butter, Mmm butter! in the skillet. When it foams add the onion+chiles.
6. Cook for 2 or 3 minutes then add the flour. Cook stirring constantly for 3 or 4 more minutes.
7. Add 1 cup of the poaching liquid and stir, It should be thick.
8. Pour the voule into the bowl of meat. Mix well.
9. Add at least 8 ounces of shredded cheese ( you did shred the cheese right?) Mix well.
10. Slap a glob of the meat mixture on each roll bottom.
11. Add a slice of cheese on top.
12. Cover with the roll tops.
13. Then cover the whole thing with foil. Bake at 350 degrees for twenty minutes.

These things are going to steam in the oven a little bit so they are going to be damp like a White Castle slider. If that is not your thing cut the time under the foil in half and give the sliders 10 minutes in the oven uncovered. Go Pats!

Sometimes you feel like a nut.

Wow, I was so busy with the holidays, vampire love, disgusting recipes that no one will ever make, and the search for pigs blood that I almost forgot about our first ever 2012 primary. (not to be confused with our first ever 2012 caucus). That would be tomorrow for you New Hampshire folks. So get out and vote. Here are your choices ( unless you are a democrat in which case I would spend the day quietly weeping about the very real possibility that one of these guys could actually beat Obama).

Mitt, probably the most likely to beat Obama in the general election. Why? Because under the veneer of right wingnuttery that he is currently hiding behind lurks a corporate centrist that will say and do anything to get elected. Republicans may not like this guy but conservative white guys and soccer Mom's with a stick up their butt are just waiting to vote for him in the general election.

 Serial adulterer, took tax exempt status on a politically motivated coarse he taught resulting in ethics sanctions from the house, earned more sanctions by feeding house investigators false information, took huge payout from Freddie Mac as a consultant then tried to blame same for the housing crash, got a 4.5 million dollar payout from Murdoch's News core for his book. Looks like the Pillsbury Doughboy if the Pillsbury Doughboy was left on a windowsill for too long.

The religious rights current flavor of the week after Bachman and Perry proved to be too stupid to live. Mr Santorum has compared gay marriage to bestiality. Does not believe in evolution. Wrote an article blaming the Catholic child abuse scandal on liberals. Does not like the libertarian side of the Republican party.

Ron Paul is easily the most honest and consistent of any candidate currently hoping to win the 2012 presidential election. That includes Obama. He is the hard core libertarian that scares Santorum. No foreign wars, no drug laws, no universal health care, no stopping states from enacting jim crow laws. Somehow he is still against abortion though, but Gays can marry as long as their state (Ron is a big "states rights" guy) makes it legal. Had a newsletter under his name that was openly racist.

If George W. Bush was stupider and meaner he would be Rick Perry. Done but too stupid to know it.

If the Republicans had half a brain this guy would be the front runner. Looks the part, smart, conservative without being a closet fascist like Santorum or wacky like Paul, Huntsman could probably have even more luck with the vast undeclared voters in this country than flip flopping Mitch. So there is no chance the Republican base will vote for him. Sometimes you feel like a nut!

It's the Republican party in food form!

So Christmas is over. No more baking, no more parties. What do you do with the left over nuts? They won't keep until next Christmas. Mmmm?

1. Take a large cast iron skillet and heat it on medium heat.
2. Add half a stick of butter. Mmmm butter!
3. When the butter is melted and no longer foaming add whatever nuts you have lying around the house. Peanuts from a cocktail party? throw them in there. Walnuts or pecans from baking? in they go. Macadamia nuts Aunt Margie sent from her Hawaiian vacation? add them to the pan.
4. Stir the nuts around until they are coated with the butter Mmmm butter! and you can smell the nutty goodness.
5. Add half a jar of honey. Keep stirring. Honey has water in it, butter Mmmm butter! has water in it, we want the water gone so keep things moving and watch for the pan to go dry.
6. Add several good squirts of hot sauce. I like Sriracha because it is already sweet, but tabasco is always a good choice too.
7. Stir until well mixed and there is no trace of the hot sauce.
8. Dump them out on some no stick foil or wax paper in a single layer to cool. They will be sticky until they set so add a good sprinkle of sea or kosher salt right away.
9. Patriots/Broncos this Saturday night. Have a Bud or 3 and the best damn nuts ever.

Explain this to Me.

I bet you all thought that my long winter break would end with the Iowa caucus results. After all more than 100,000 people took the time to caucus last week, that's almost a half a percent of eligible voters in the United States. Sadly I cannot comment on the Iowa caucus because if I do the ratio of people commenting (mainstream media) on the significance of a statistically insignificant event which will have no more importance to the future of this country than will the status of my hemorrhoids will finally tip our pop culture oriented brains past the point where they will ever be able to discern actual game changing actions ever again. Stripped of our ability to separate important information from worthless buffoonery you would see a sudden dominance of news concerning celebrity scandals, random but horrific crimes, talk radio pet peeves, and straw-man enemies that are no threat to the safety and well being of anyone. I couldn't let that happen so the Iowa caucus will have to wait.

Instead this past weekend has found me reeling after coming face to face with something so foul...so wrong headed... so outside my frame of reference I need help just understanding how so many people could fantasize about...Vampire love?

Feminists arise before it is too late.

I thought I dodged this bullet over the Thanksgiving weekend when my nephew wanted to go, but without going into detail I was forced to actually watch this soul destroying piece of pop culture just this past Sunday.

I had to wear it or I would have torn out my own eyes!

I never read any of the books nor had I seen any of the movies until Sunday. I was a lucky man unaware of just how blessed he really was. All I can say is if this a common woman's fantasy the feminist movement has some work cut out for themselves. As far as I can tell the saga must have started with the twitchy rubber-band girl from the Breakfast Club having a twitchy passive daughter.

When I was a girl we didn't have shiny vampire dudes we just had snorkel coats, a Sheen brother,  and crystal meth.

The movie starts with a girlgasmic wedding scene because getting married in as expensive a way as possible is super important for girls. This is followed by super rough PG-13 virginal wedding night sex because the wedding night is supposed to be special and nothing says special like a 109 year old dude ( How is that not incredibly creepy by itself?) power slamming his teen bride around a fabulous super expensive honeymoon suite. Twitchy girl is not a vampire yet for reasons I don't know so she's all banged up after the wedding night and I mean contusions not sexually satisfied. There were bruises every which way because I guess love hurts.

That's not the vampire Dude from the movie, that's your daughters husband if she tries to live out this movie fantasy.

Anyway twitchy girl gets immediately pregnant which leads to a vampire human hybrid baby trying to chew its' way out of mommy from the inside. I mean what else did they expect from a vampire human hybrid baby? So the only way to save mommy is to vamp her, but that would kill the hybrid baby so it was time to insert an anti-abortion message here, because after you have been impregnated from humping a 109 year old dead guy certain moral lines cannot be crossed. It was just like Juno only without the snappy dialogue, cool alt-rock sound track and the hamburger phone and if Juno was being killed by the disturbing undead thing inside of her.

... but Dad, he's only been dead for 90 years.

Now remember that this is a movie for tween girls, their moms, and people as pathetic as myself so right about now is when the werewolves show up to kill the hybrid baby. Bad werewolves, bad bad werewolves! What did I do with my rolled up newspaper? Why would you want to kill an innocent, totally new species of mommy eating vampire/humane hybrid baby? Bad, bad werewolves!

I guess I should just go with the flow on ( really bad pun, sorry, very sorry) this one but sexy vampire love keeps popping up in many of our entertainments. there is...

Randy r-rated vampire love with a homo-erotic subtext.

True Blood on HBO where the ladies love their vamp men because they're " good to me" despite past incarnations as murdering serial killers and the occasional slip in the present.

Hot girls for the guys, hot vampires for the girls. The ladies and gay people really seem to love vampires.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer where the ladies love their vamp men "when their souls are in place" despite past activities as murdering serial killers and the occasional slip in the present.

Why do all Vampire dudes look like Eurotrash club kids? Nobody ever bites an occasional hillbilly?

The Vampire Diaries where the ladies love their vamp men " well... just because they're hot, cool, vamp men".

More Homo-erotic, more sadomasochistic but it is reading instead of watching, so that's good right?

Why are vampires such a turn on for the ladies? Aren't they essentially just high end, metro-sexual zombies?Zombies=Dead people that are still walking around? Vampires=Dead people that are still walking around - the rotting body parts. While we're at it I know that men tend to be a little less mature than women but do we really have to reach 107 years old before we are sophisticated enough to really impress a 15 year old girl? Don't answer that.

Fantasies are often just that, dreams that tickle our ids. Still if a fantasy is creepy and destructive and keeps cropping up over and over again shouldn't we maybe try to give our kids something healthier to think about? I don't believe in censorship but if we all just backed away from the rape/murder/he's nice to me fantasy might it not benefit the woman in our lives? God only knows what my nephew likes about this stuff. What's his fantasy? Of coarse if they do bring home a vampire for Sunday dinner how do you keep him from roughing up then eating grandma?

Mmmm! Blood sausage!

You will need sausage casing, a 2 liter plastic soda bottle cut in half, a chopstick, and blood. The sausage casing you can get from any decent butcher shop. The blood is tricky. It will start to coagulate almost immediately and you definitely don't want crunchy bits in your boudin. Ick. Call Blood Farm in Groton, MA. They are a USDA approved slaughter house so when they're hacking the blood is fresh. Blood will freeze nicely so get extra and save for a rainy day.

1. Strain a pint of pigs blood ( if your vampire friend insists on human you are in serious trouble and  crosses and bibles my become necessary.) Remember, no crunchy bits.
2. Finally mince 8 ounces of bacon, Mmmm bacon! Fatback, or lard. Place in a bowl.
3. Add 2 cups of oatmeal or cooked rice ( rice for the gluten free version).
4. Pinch of salt, pepper, mace ( a powder made from nutmeg shells)
5. Add the blood. Fold everything together until the blood is absorbed.
6. Using the soda bottle like a funnel attach a foot or 2 of the sausage casing to the spout with butchers twine or a small rubber band.
7. Tie off the open end.
8. Use the fat end of the chopstick to push the blood mixture into the casing.
9. Do not stuff the thing too tight or the casing will burst during cooking. It should be looser than a store bought raw sausage.
10. Tie off the end.
11. In barely simmering water or broth poach the boudin for 30 minutes.
12. Eat it as is, slice it and fry for breakfast, have it with crackers after some vampire love.