Boston sports fans have had a rough week. We've had to listen to local
and national media all week long badmouth the Guru for blowing the game
against our most hated rival. It was exhaustingenough to have to understand how the Pats blew a 3 touchdown lead in the 4th quarter....but adding to that fisting
was the knowledge that the Guru may have lost his fastball. In
addition, it's beginning to look like the blessings from the sports
gods over the last several years in Boston have all but dried up.
ShouldBelichick have punted? Not sure. The Pix kind of liked the call
at the time. What the media of course has failed to even mention once
this week is that if the refs give Faulk a better spot, the word
"genius" would be getting thrown a whole lot. Anyway, the whole episode
has left the Pix less inspired than ArianaHuffington at a Sarah Palin book signing. Whether or not one agrees or not disagrees with Belichick, we should all agree that the following items are even more curious....
1.
The people who bring their own bags to the grocery store. What the hell
is going on here? Since when did the answer to "paper or plastic?"
become, "no thanks, I brought my own." Really? Plastic too convenient
for you? Recycling paper bags not "green" enough?WTF ? What makes this
even more outrageous and, quite frankly, blew the Pix' mind is that
people actually have to BUY these queer bags. Holy poseurs, Batman.
Even worse, several months ago, the Pix opened the rear door to theshaggin
' wagon and spotted 10 of these completely gay "Market Basket" bags.
Evidently, the official wife is in on this fraud. Honey, if we are so
cost conscious that we are grocery shopping at Market basket then we
should probably accept their kind offer to supply us with complimentary
paper bags. Please and thank you.
2. Market Basket. For those readers unfamiliar with this grocery store chain, imagine a Cinco de
Mayo party crossed with the last few embassy workers fleeing Saigon in
April 1975 when that helicopter got pushed off the roof. Just bedlam.
In Spanish. Every time the official wife braves this trip and returns
with all 3 official kids, the Pix is amazed and relieved. Occasionally
on rainy weekends the Pix will take the official boys to Target to pick
up some toys and a little swine flu. Since Target is located right next
door to Market Basket, the Pix occasionally glances in the direction of
the mammoth beast and thinks ofKurtz'a last words from "Heart of
Darkness", "The Horror! The Horror!" Please, dear readers, stay away
from Market Basket and save thy selves.
3. Dudes in their 60's
who like to walk around nude in locker rooms. It never ceases to amaze
the Pix. Show the Pix a men's locker room and the Pix will show you a
flock of geezers swinging their junk around like it's anAARP nudist convention. Really? No towel
around the waist? Last week the Pix (while changing as quickly as
possible) had to listen to some fossil on his cell phone have a full
conversation with some unsuspecting soul while he put one leg up on the
bench and aired himself out in all his glory.WTF? Attention naked geezers, put down the cell phones and put on some skivvies.
4.
Worse still.......people who go to the gym who evidently have not
bathed in what must be weeks. This was a bad week for the Pix at the
gym. After surviving the naked caller, the Pix was minding his own
business when all of a sudden some foreign looking dude walked by
leaving a stench so thick that had I taken a picture of the air, I'm
pretty sure the scent would have appeared on film. This was the kind of
stench that is so powerful and stubborn that it refuses to leave the
area. It had the power of a million egg farts and a shelf life longer than uranium. There is no friggin
way possible this dude didn't know he reeked. Fortunately, the mystery
stinker left before the Pix became belligerent. If this olfactory
offender reappears, the Pix is paying for his membership to be revoked.
Here's a sample of the conversation that will occur the next time the
Pix and stinky boy cross paths.
Pix: "Hey Stinko, beat it. I'm serious, bolt, get out of here. You reek."
Stinks: "What?"
Pix:
"YOU HAVE TO LEAVE THE GYM. I JUST PAID FOR YOUR MEMBERSHIP. YOU CAN'T
COME HERE ANY MORE. YOU SHOULD BE IN A MENTAL FACILITY."
I know
some readers may think that's a bit harsh, but do we not all share some
form of social contract with one another in civilized society? You
can't just go around running red lights, driving on the left side of
the road, starting fights etc....and smelling so foul that those around
you can not stand to be in your presence has to fall in there
somewhere, doesn't it? Wicked sorry, but the Pix is only after a
minimum of acceptablebehavior. Thanking you thanking the Pix. Which leads to another thing that stinks..........
5. The Jets. Not only can the Jets not wipe away the stench that Breet
left them with last year, their coach broke down and had a little cry
in front of his team this week to get them fired up for the Pats. Or to
get ready for Oprah's last season.....one or the other. Seriously, Rex,
you can't act like a big fat bully one day and then let your inner
daughter break out during a team meeting and sob like you just watched
the last scene from "Beaches". It's just not done, man. The Pats will
be fired up after last weeks unmentionable. Final score: NE 37, Jets 19.
Disclaimer: The Pix will neither confirm nor deny having seen "Beaches". The Pix has no idea what happened to Bette Midler in the end. Nor has he heard the song "Wind Beneath My Wings". Ever. Move along. Nothing to see here.
Pix out
Friday, November 20, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Kooky Birds
As all readers know, the Pix has been studying the feline form for a long time and considers himself somewhat of an expert when it comes to "observing the herd". To say the least, they are an amusing gender. Normally, the kooky and silly ways of the ovarian society are best appreciated while taking in their behavior with a grain of salt and a small shake of the head. Girls will be girls, as they say. Lately, however, the hormonal herd has been a little more than normally off kilter. Irrespective of any lunar issues, several articles have popped up in the news that, in conjunction with not a few incidents on the homefront, have the Pix concerned and compelled to help out the matronage.
Johann Goethe, esteemed German writer, polymath and author of "Faust" famously wrote, "Ewig-Weibliche zieht uns hinan". Which as we all know, means "these beetches be krazy". Exhibit A....http://bbc.co.uk/2/health/8352711.stm. That's right, British birds are lining up at their surgeons offices to shell out $5,000.00 for labiaplasties. In other words, it seems camel toes are quite out of style in jolly old England. The NHS in England reports that there were 1,118 performed last year (an increase of 70%), however the true number is unknown since the vast majority of these procedures were performed privately. As Larry David would say, "Oy Vey Gishmir". It's bad enough that this generation of gals are drowning in tramp stamps and multiple piercings, the poor things seem so confused and desperate to please the hommes that when they are not mutilating themselves, they are busy posting self made sex tapes and appearing in "Girls Gone Wild" videos (which, incidentally, they appear in for free while a man named Joe Francis makes millions). Ladies, please, calm thyselves.
Exhibit B....earlier this week, the official wife, sister and Mrs. Vegas went out for a little birthday dinner to a local white tablecloth restaurant. Innocent enough, one might think. However, after getting their Chardonnay on and losing the official sister to some unknown malady, Thelma and Louise decided to cruise the north shore looking for any establishment that might still be serving some drinking damselles. What makes this anecdote worth mentioning is that of all the establishments they could have tried, they decided to go the G5. For the inernational readers of the Pix, the G5 is a men's only club where they serve dollar drafts to men seeking to escape the company of the fairer sex. It's not the type of place with a wine list, and this fact was clearly known by the sisters of sauvignon blanc. Clealy, princesses of pinot grigio simply wanted to gain access to the forbidden fortress. A place where sports and poker and pool are prevalent. Why is it that the kooky birds have been trying to break into men's clubs, pubs, forts, and secret gay societies since the beginning of time? Ladies, please, form thine own clubs.
Exhibit 3....Bachelorette parties. Have you seen what these things have turned into lately? Entire web sites are now dedicated to the zany antics of repressed butterflies seeking to one up whatever their male counterparts may or may not be doing on the stag party circuit. Let's just say the Pix has seen enough of these first hand to be frightened by the very idea of a bachelorette party. The Pix won't get too specific (one hates to cast aspersions), but on one instance the fiance returned with phalli made of every material known to man(the manganese one was weird) and the other with a sex tape involving the betrothed, the Harlem Globetrotters and a donkey. Fortunately for the Pix, the official wife went to a local homeless shelter and read scripture to the blind for her BP. If this generation of felines didn't have enough to live up to.......be a full time mom, have a full time job at same time etc...it seems as if they are trying to make up for 100 years worth of payback for bachelor parties. The Pix isn't sure who to be more afraid of, Muslims in the US military about to be shipped overseas or a score of crazed bachelorettes.... For the love of humanity, please, ladies, put your bra back on, the tequila shot down and step away from the bar.
We know, ladies, it's not fair. Remember the perfume commercial from the '70's for a product called "Angelie"?. There was some buxom brunette singing, "I can bring home the bacon..........fry it up in a pan......and never ever ever let you forget you'r e a man. Cause I'm a Wooooooman. Angelie". The Pix has no idea where he was going with this, other than it made me think of bacon and now you will be humming that tune the rest of the day if you remember it. Oh, yes, the Pix remembers.....he is here to help....
1. Do indeed, bring home the bacon. Preferably uncured without sulfites. Maybe a thick sliced applewood smoked little number to go deliciously with the 10:00 am medium fried organic free range chicken egg on sour dough Bays english muffin with shredded cheddar. Please and thank you.
2. Do not, however fry it up in a pan. Instead, place a cooling rack in your half sheet pan over a layer of parchment paper and bake at 350 for about 15 minutes. The bacon won't curl or burn and clean up will be a breeze. Thanking you, thanking me.
3. Never ever let me forget I'm a man. Um, shouldn't be too hard. Upon arrival home, provide the Pix whith a chilled martini glass straight from the freezer and fill said vessell with 2 parts Bombay gin and one part filth (olive juice). Two olives, one toothpick, no kids with H1N1 or full diapers and the remote. Pleasing.
There it is ladies, the Pix is here to help.
Football........only one game matters this week. Pats +3 at Colts. The Pix is a little nevous due to the fact that too many pundits are picking the Pats, but the Pix just doesn't see the Colts D sans Sanders able to stop Brady and co. You know the Guru only used half his playbook last week while euthanizing the Dolphins and will have some trix up his sleave for Indy. Let's say Patriots 41, Colts 30. An old AFC shootout.
Minor disclaimer.......all references to all above mentioned characters are purely fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. Except for DUG a few weeks back. He is real and he is very dangerous.
Pix out.
Johann Goethe, esteemed German writer, polymath and author of "Faust" famously wrote, "Ewig-Weibliche zieht uns hinan". Which as we all know, means "these beetches be krazy". Exhibit A....http://bbc.co.uk/2/health/8352711.stm. That's right, British birds are lining up at their surgeons offices to shell out $5,000.00 for labiaplasties. In other words, it seems camel toes are quite out of style in jolly old England. The NHS in England reports that there were 1,118 performed last year (an increase of 70%), however the true number is unknown since the vast majority of these procedures were performed privately. As Larry David would say, "Oy Vey Gishmir". It's bad enough that this generation of gals are drowning in tramp stamps and multiple piercings, the poor things seem so confused and desperate to please the hommes that when they are not mutilating themselves, they are busy posting self made sex tapes and appearing in "Girls Gone Wild" videos (which, incidentally, they appear in for free while a man named Joe Francis makes millions). Ladies, please, calm thyselves.
Exhibit B....earlier this week, the official wife, sister and Mrs. Vegas went out for a little birthday dinner to a local white tablecloth restaurant. Innocent enough, one might think. However, after getting their Chardonnay on and losing the official sister to some unknown malady, Thelma and Louise decided to cruise the north shore looking for any establishment that might still be serving some drinking damselles. What makes this anecdote worth mentioning is that of all the establishments they could have tried, they decided to go the G5. For the inernational readers of the Pix, the G5 is a men's only club where they serve dollar drafts to men seeking to escape the company of the fairer sex. It's not the type of place with a wine list, and this fact was clearly known by the sisters of sauvignon blanc. Clealy, princesses of pinot grigio simply wanted to gain access to the forbidden fortress. A place where sports and poker and pool are prevalent. Why is it that the kooky birds have been trying to break into men's clubs, pubs, forts, and secret gay societies since the beginning of time? Ladies, please, form thine own clubs.
Exhibit 3....Bachelorette parties. Have you seen what these things have turned into lately? Entire web sites are now dedicated to the zany antics of repressed butterflies seeking to one up whatever their male counterparts may or may not be doing on the stag party circuit. Let's just say the Pix has seen enough of these first hand to be frightened by the very idea of a bachelorette party. The Pix won't get too specific (one hates to cast aspersions), but on one instance the fiance returned with phalli made of every material known to man(the manganese one was weird) and the other with a sex tape involving the betrothed, the Harlem Globetrotters and a donkey. Fortunately for the Pix, the official wife went to a local homeless shelter and read scripture to the blind for her BP. If this generation of felines didn't have enough to live up to.......be a full time mom, have a full time job at same time etc...it seems as if they are trying to make up for 100 years worth of payback for bachelor parties. The Pix isn't sure who to be more afraid of, Muslims in the US military about to be shipped overseas or a score of crazed bachelorettes.... For the love of humanity, please, ladies, put your bra back on, the tequila shot down and step away from the bar.
We know, ladies, it's not fair. Remember the perfume commercial from the '70's for a product called "Angelie"?. There was some buxom brunette singing, "I can bring home the bacon..........fry it up in a pan......and never ever ever let you forget you'r e a man. Cause I'm a Wooooooman. Angelie". The Pix has no idea where he was going with this, other than it made me think of bacon and now you will be humming that tune the rest of the day if you remember it. Oh, yes, the Pix remembers.....he is here to help....
1. Do indeed, bring home the bacon. Preferably uncured without sulfites. Maybe a thick sliced applewood smoked little number to go deliciously with the 10:00 am medium fried organic free range chicken egg on sour dough Bays english muffin with shredded cheddar. Please and thank you.
2. Do not, however fry it up in a pan. Instead, place a cooling rack in your half sheet pan over a layer of parchment paper and bake at 350 for about 15 minutes. The bacon won't curl or burn and clean up will be a breeze. Thanking you, thanking me.
3. Never ever let me forget I'm a man. Um, shouldn't be too hard. Upon arrival home, provide the Pix whith a chilled martini glass straight from the freezer and fill said vessell with 2 parts Bombay gin and one part filth (olive juice). Two olives, one toothpick, no kids with H1N1 or full diapers and the remote. Pleasing.
There it is ladies, the Pix is here to help.
Football........only one game matters this week. Pats +3 at Colts. The Pix is a little nevous due to the fact that too many pundits are picking the Pats, but the Pix just doesn't see the Colts D sans Sanders able to stop Brady and co. You know the Guru only used half his playbook last week while euthanizing the Dolphins and will have some trix up his sleave for Indy. Let's say Patriots 41, Colts 30. An old AFC shootout.
Minor disclaimer.......all references to all above mentioned characters are purely fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. Except for DUG a few weeks back. He is real and he is very dangerous.
Pix out.
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