Gods Monkey is an Independent

September 20, 2012

2 things I don’t do. 

I don’t do politics.
I vote, and I’ll talk to you about it with an open mind. The problem is there are too many fucknuts on the left and on the right and in the middle. Fucknuts everywhere.

I don’t do religion.
What I believe or don’t believe is personal. I won’t get in your face, don’t get in mine. I’ll talk to you about it with an open mind assuming you have an open mind. The problem is there are too many pious closed minded fucknuts out there. Fucknuts everywhere.

There might be more things I don’t do, but these are the two that come to mind.

Agree? Disagree? Thats ok with me.


Mixed Drinks and Pussy

September 3, 2012

A few years ago I set up a camera and filmed myself pouring my favorite drink. Today I just finished editing and uploading a video of one of my nephews  first JV high school football games. As I signed in to YouTube, I saw that the video of me mixing a drink had been viewed 527 times! I know some of you are thinking “What’s the big deal?” Well, for me, 527 of anything is a lot. So I was happy but also confused. It’s not like it’s a cat video, though I have one of those too, but damn, 527 views? Thanks. Drink up.

It was my first year of High School. I’d made the Junior Varsity Football team, the JV Basketball team, and the JV Baseball team. Back then not everyone who tried out made the team, unlike today. But that’s another story.

This story takes place on the baseball field. I remember it being cloudy, and kinda cool. I was one of two first-basemen and we were having batting practice. Batting practice consisted of one guy placing a ball into the pitching machine and the coach “coaching” each player as they took turns batting. The machine was on a tripod and had two big rubber wheels that would spin crazy fast. You put the ball in a shoot and the wheels would shoot it out at about 75 miles per hour. Ffffffoooop. Right across the plate. Every time. Coach Ace (not his real name) asked me to man the machine. Ffffffoooop. Smack! Hit! The players in the field would then field the balls that were hit. Easy. Ffffffoooop. Swing and a miss. Ffffffoooop.

The initial buzz of maning the machine quickly turned to boredom. One of the pitchers was next to me catching the balls the fielders were throwing back in. Ffffffoooop. The pitcher was talking to me as I was loading the next ball Ffffffoooop. Crack. Hit. Ffffffoooop. I turned for just a second to watch a great hit and automatically loaded the next ball…Ffffffoooop. I turned and stared in horror…. Coach Ace was standing at the plate giving the batter instructions. Time slowed down as I watched the 75 miles per hour fast ball hit the Coach right in the balls! I was horrified. You could have heard a pin drop on that field. When the coach was able to stand back up he Angrily yelled at me to get my ass to the locker room. I ran all the way.

Coach Ace was kind of a dick. Not a very nice guy. The Varsity guys who had him when they were JV’s hated him. As I sat scared of the unknown in that locker room, I heard the door burst open and the sound of cleats clacking on the floor. It was the Varsity catcher, he yelled out “Who pegged Ace?” I had to smile. It had been an accident, but no one believed me. I was a hero. Everyone wanted to congratulate me.

Coach Ace had calmed down by the time practice was over, and his scolding was rather tame. I’d like to think I rode the bench that year because of my accident, but I’ll never know.

Photo: pitchingmachines.us



Oh Shit! That’s what I said right after I took a couple of big gulps from my drink. (Sailor Jerry rum and Diet Pepsi – unfinished) What do I mean by unfinished? We’ll get back to that. First let me set the scene…

Saturday evening I’m at my brothers house, actually in his pool house. It’s where we watch the Redskins games and drink and smoke cigars. The game’s over (we won) and my brother left to pick up our other brother from another mother. While he’s gone I have been reading some of the coolest posts by some very talented and witty bloggers.

I think it was LaLa‘s post that mentioned that madame weebles “has big boobs”. I’m a man, so I thought I should just click over and check out those puppies for myself. I wasn’t disappointed. From what I gathered, they’re real and they’re magnificent.

I kept reading, and drinking. I was so engrossed in the lengthy fascinating comments section that I reached for my cup and, still reading, proceeded to gulp down several swallows of straight rum! Shit! I had forgotten to add the DP.

It was a good night despite the fact that the point to this post got lost somewhere after the 3rd or 4th drink. Football? Drinks? Boobs? Hell, I don’t know, and I don’t care. As my NY friends love to say and I hate to hear, “It is what it is.”


Now sober and well rested, I think the only way to salvage this drinkin’, smokin’, big boobin’ TMI fest is to share, with anyone who cares, some of the blogs that have captured my attention.

madame weebles
Domestic Diva MD
jillian levi
sweet mother

I’m a mac

August 20, 2012

I’ve been with Windows since Windows 3.0. I enjoyed Windows 95 and 98, suffered through Windows Me, and loved Windows Xp. I resisted Vista, but it won me over. I’ve had may PC’s over the years and the latest on came loaded with Windows 7. I do not like Windows 7. A few months ago I installed Windows 8 consumer evaluation copy. I absolutely hate it. It’s terrible. It seems to be completely designed for tablets. For a desktop, it is just horrible.

I’m a Graphic Designer and I’m comfortable with Windows. I’m also a big fan of Macs. I’ve owned 2 old iMacs, and when I went back to School to get my degree, the College had an awesome Mac lab stocked with smoking fast G5’s. I was in love.

Recently I had the good fortune to purchase a 6 month old Macbook Pro. It’s awesome! And fast! Everyday I’m learning more and loving it. That is until I decided to try the dictation app. This is the window that came up:


Why the hell would they need my contacts?!?

Anyway, I still love my Macbook pro.
Did I mention it has a back-lit keyboard?

No means no Jimmy

August 19, 2012

Jimmy Fallon makes me laugh.  He was great on Saturday Night live. He’s recently been in several Capital One credit card commercials that feature a baby girl as the only person who doesn’t want 50% more cash. That baby girl is so damn cute. I put two more links here and here. I saw a new one today but couldn’t find a link to it.

Here is baby Kylie watching herself.

…back into the blogging community.

“Are you still writing that bloggie thing?”

After more than three months of nothing, I’m writing again. I wish I could explain why I stopped writing. But the truth is I just don’t know. I woke up one day, in the last days of April, and couldn’t think of a damn thing to write. Absolutely nothing peaked my interest. I had lost my spark, my motivation, my desire. I had nothing more to say. If I could point to one thing and say “That’s it! That’s the reason I stopped writing.” I would, but I can’t.

“It’s just a blog…it’s not like it’s Rocket Surgery!”

Sure, it’s just a blog,  just random thoughts and pictures about nothing important. But it was my blog. My random thoughts and pictures. And I loved it, until I didn’t. Truth is I missed it a week after I stopped, but I didn’t know how to start up again. The more time that went by, the harder the prospect was for restarting. Like when you haven’t called a friend back…the longer you wait, the harder it seems to be to just do it.

“You’ve done this before.”

Yes I have. And I may do it again.

“You know, there’s a good chance no one even noticed you were gone.”

Mom noticed. But sure, I know what your saying.

To those who did notice, to the few who took time from their busy day to read my blog, I’m sorry. And Thank you.

Give to the Church

April 25, 2012

When I was younger and one of my friends used the expression “Praying to the porcelain God” it meant only one thing. I was recently at a friends house and I noticed the name of the manufacturer of his…ah…throne, was CHURCH. I’m spiritual, not religious, so my first thought was “How poetic”. My second thought  (and the reason for this post) was “What better place to ‘Pray to the porcelain God’ than at a throne made by the Church?”  Fortunately, it’s been years since I’ve had to “Pray” from too much drinking. Thanks to Alanis Morissette I’m unsure as to what’s ironic so I’m not sure if it’s ironic or just an funny coincidence.



There is a giant weed growing next to my front door. It’s now 4 feet tall. My first thought about it was “Feed me Seymour!” (the man eating plant from Little shop of horrors.) My second thought was the Body snatchers pods. But I think I’ll go with my third thought. If I let the weed grow, eventually I’ll be able to climb it and steal the giants gold.


Talking to Me

April 20, 2012

Me: It’s Friday, and just when I think my shitty week is over, the  rain is coming. It’s supposed to rain all weekend. No riding. No beach.

Myself: Sigh.
Me: Well, I could go out.
Me: Maybe tomorrow.
Myself: Boo!
Me: Maybe I’ll paint. Maybe play guitar… write a song.
Myself: Yawn.
Me: Of course, I have to do laundry.
Myself: Laundry? Really? Nobody gives a shit about your laundry!
Me: Perhaps I’ll watch some of the bazillon shows on my DVR.
Myself: Boring!
Me: Maybe I’ll just catch up on some much needed sleep.
Myself: Can’t argue with that…
Me: Cool?
Myself: Cool.