Gravity and Bacon

Gigi and I have discovered that yes we can both cough all night and still get 8 hours plus of sleep.

Last night around 1:30 AM, we now call this time intermission, we both woke in a big old coughing jag.

Gigi headed for the shower to get some steam for her congested chest and I took care of matters the old fashioned way by doing a shot of Nyquil.

Soon I was lying in a twilight haze thinking about how much I like bacon and isn’t gravity handy? Why I just took a sip of bottled water and set it down on my side table and the bottle didn’t float away!

I need to ask my bartender to work on some Nyquil drinks.   

You may wonder why we haven’t been to the doctor. You see as you turn 50ish the doctor makes you come in to his office before he’ll dispense with his goodies. He’s afraid you’ll die and he’ll be on the hook for a big malpractice lawsuit if he just call in something.

If I felt good I might go in, but then who would need him.  

Sick Post

Oh my, I am in the final stages lung labor. Fortunately by this afternoon I hope to pass my right lung and perhaps my entire liver through a grand finale cough jag.

I caught, no we caught a nasty cold over Christmas from my dear mother in law and now both of us are in the coughing and hacking stages where your insides hurt.

I think we both may need to tape our eyes shut too if we want to keep our eyeballs. 

Dick’s, Jocks, and Brats



The new pair of swim trunks I got at Christmas does not have any lining in them.  With these new trunks I’m going to need to buy a jock strap or two so I don’t show any brain while swimming or lounging by the pool; nothing much grosser than exposed sack by the sea.

I did a Google search and up popped (no pun intended) a bunch of gay looking pictures with guys showing off their packages.

I asked Gigi where I should look for a jock and she said, “Not Wal-Mart, you’ll pick up crabs. Go to Dick’s”.

I busted out laughing thinking about going to a place name Dick’s for a jock strap. 

I guess one day I’ll grow up. 


Pregame brats yesterday proved to be a winning effort for Carolina!

Sweet Melissa!

Headline in The USA Today online reads: Panthers clinch NFC bye on final-second FG vs. Saints

To my friends on the island, Wreggie is happy.

His home National Football League team the Carolina Panthers defeated the New Orleans Saints today by kicking a field goal in the last 6 seconds to win.

They are now the second seed (second best team in the NFC (National football Conference not to be confused with the AFC, American Football Conference)) and Carolina will have next Sunday off (a bye).

Carolina gets to play at home again the 10th or 11th of January and Wreggie gets to tailgate again one more time.  

That was a lot said in that headline, huh?  

Comfort Food

I am pretty sure I have caught a wicked sore throat from Liv through Facebook. Is that possible? Gigi and I are both coughing and complaining this morning.

Last night I put on a pot of pinto beans to soak. This morning I would like to introduce leftover Christmas ham to said beans.

In a high Mr. Bill voice, “Hello beans, I will make you tasty, nice to meet you.”

In other disturbing news what’s up with the Diet Pepsi cans? 

You are Dead to Me US Airways Mastercard

This is an email I sent this morning on discovery that my credit line was cut 80% for no cause:

Thanks for giving me zero warning about you adjusting my credit limit down by 80%. Aren't you supposed to give me notice? You didn't give me any notice.

Don't worry I'll double check with the state attorney general just to be sure. It's my policy when I feel I have been done wrong for no reason.

Going from $25,000 to $5,000 was a shocker when I got notice via email this morning. I average around $3,000 a month charges which I pay off monthly so $5,000 will not be sufficient going forward. This limit along with my charging history will put my percentage beyond 30% of total with negative consequences to my credit score.

Since this new balance will not be sufficient for my normal business operations the card will reside in the back of my wallet now as a backup.

At least I am giving you the courtesy of notice.

One more thing, by lowering my credit limit you intentionally and knowingly caused me harm by making my account balance due in excess of 30%.

I will watch my credit score over the next days and weeks to see the damage you gave knowingly inflicted.

Shame on you US Airways Mastercard.

Addendum:

You’re going down US Airways MasterCard. I shall invoke the family curse on you US Airways MasterCard! (Curtains flying and strong breezes blow papers as dark clouds appear, dust and general curse looking shit blowing around with some effective thunder sounds and a slobering two headed dog thrown in for additional effect.)

Don’t remember the family curse on Wachovia? See what happened?

I contacted the NC Attorney General this morning. Roy Cooper is coming to visit and he’s pissed off.

And the there was the great Enterprise Car Rental debacle of 2007. I won that too.

The sons of bitches at Direct TV are not going to get away with the $240 that they knowing stole from me.  They have already given me back $120 as a good gesture but I want them to get right with God and give me back the other $120.

Oh the day of reckoning is coming. 

Guess What I'm Thinking About?

So I’m done with the minor holidays and by the looks of my countdown clock to the right I am bearing down on my winter vacation in St Croix.

Last night my nephew called to wish his elderly uncle Merry Christmas and began to lobby Gigi and I to escort him back for a week in June to my favorite island.

It was fun last June running with an 11 year old that likes to swim and snorkel as much as I do. 

I talked to Gigi this morning and she is willing to “pencil in” a June trip back to the island. I like knowing I have two trips on the agenda in front of me.

June is nice down there, the island isn’t at all crowded and prices are cheap on lodging and flying. Plus it is actually cooler down there in June than it is that time of year in Charlotte.

I have begun to collect stuff to take…yes technically packing I would have to admit.

My MIL gave me some swim trunks yesterday that could usurp my favorite “yellow boys”. They hit the pile right away of the “to go” list.

I bought a small set of binoculars for the LSU/ASU game back in September and I am taking those to St Croix this time. There is always so much going on in the ocean in St Croix so I figured a pair would be nice to have. And if it is a clear day you can see St Thomas and St John from St Croix. With binoculars you can see houses on the other islands.     

A Christmas Story

I was lying in bed this morning at 6 AM thinking about today being Christmas and when I was a child. It was a twilight moment where I could have easily gotten up or drifted back off.

My mobile phone rang from the other room at the Wreggie chair at blog command central. This phone has a strong ring like grandma’s phone back in the 1960’s. I got that ring because I needed to hear it when I am riding in the jeep plus the sound is so nostalgic it makes me laugh every time I hear it.  

Who in the hell could that be? I looked over and Gigi was unfazed sleeping away. Gigi sleeps so quietly that I used to accuse her of faking it when she slept until I realized that she sleeps silently most of the time.

I slowly got up and the usual suspects were standing in the kitchen wanting to go out. From down the hall I could see their tails wagging from the lights on the Christmas tree.

I opened the door and two dogs left and a cat came in. Who in the hell let Millie out last night?

I looked at my phone as I made coffee and it was Michael that called from St Croix.

I called Michael and heard nothing but loud festive music. “I can’t hear you”, Michael screamed. He said he was behind a truck that was playing music and “Peter says Merry Christmas.”


Some of the mystery is solved from a later call from the webcam. Peter enjoys a beverage in front of the substance abuse center.

The mere mention of Peter being there helps fill in the details that everyone was having a good time celebrating Christmas. They don’t celebrate Christmas down in St Croix with fluffy bunny slippers in their PJs by the warm glow of lights on the tree, these folks, and it sounded like a lot of them, were celebrating loudly in the streets.

“I’ll post pictures on the blog!” Michael screamed.

We both hung up when we realized a conversation was impossible.

You know as much as I do so I’ll keep an eye on the blog today for details.

Merry Christmas all. 

Holiday Joys

I wouldn’t trade places with any of you knowing what I am about to see from the comfort of my chair in the next 24 hours.

Unfolding before me like a well scripted soap opera will be family idiotic behavior like you can’t imagine.

I got a glance of the fun to be last night as the mother in law pulled in late (surprise, surprise) because she had made a wrong turn on a major Interstate highway that she wasn’t supposed to be on at all, driving a route she had driven for the last 8 years but never quite taken the directions to memory.

Meanwhile Larry (FIL) and I are quietly enjoying a few steamed mollusks, a glass of beer and watching ESPN. I have had this fresh seafood Jones ever since Chris was here for the game.   

The MIL walked in with bags of baked goods that made even my pancreas shutter.  I can see this will be a 24 hour sugar-thon for her and she commenced to grazing and offering out her confections to everyone in sight. I wasn’t going to be an enabler for her sugar habit plus I have my own way of getting sugar in my system that is a lot more fun and I don’t really care for sweets.

Oh did I mention my FIL and her ex is a diabetic?

I ordered a pizza because the going out to eat plans where not going to work at this late hour. We all ate and watched a movie.

She talked throughout the movie and unfolded crackling candy wrappers the whole time as she continued to graze. She finally got Larry to feed after much encouragement and I left the two of them grazing on sugar and went to bed.   

The fun begins soon.

To all my readers I wish for you a most wonderful holiday and thank you for stopping by this past year with all of your comments.  

Fighting is Good

I am sitting here panting in a glaze of sweat after fighting 3, 3 round boxing matches, two I won by KO and the last one by a decision. The last guy just wouldn’t go down with my signature right shot to the body.

Yes you may have guessed it…compulsive Wreg bought a Wii.

One question…why isn’t there a regulation 1 minute between rounds? And where is the ring girl?

This game is fun. It get’s you up off your ass and moving. I think it may be just the cure for winter doldrums.

I’ve bowled, played golf, boxed, and played baseball all in my tee shirt and Homer Simpson jammy bottoms. Gigi plays too.

I have banged Abby in the head countless times when making an upper cut. She doesn’t understand why I am punching the air so fortuitously.  

Stuff I Learned About Canadians from One Visiting Me Last Week

As you recall last weekend Chris came physically out of the blogosphere from Winnipeg Manitoba to visit my fair city for an NFL experience. Until last week he and his lovely bride Ali were just digits on a web page.    

The following is stuff I learned about Canadians from one visiting me:

Chris was a very polite person. He is a nurse and I could see his care giving and empathy around my father in law.

Haley loved Chris. Chris loved Abby more.

Chris loves NFL football.

He had cool currency with hockey players and coins with two types of metal.

Chris was willing to try new foods and vocalized his observations to me. I like that.

He heard the word “ya’ll” a lot. 

Chris talks fondly and frequently about his wife and daughter.

Haley loved Chris and would jump up on him and get his pants muddy. Chris avoided being mean to Haley.

Chris said he heard the words “yes sir and no sir” a lot.

He is a natural for tailgating but they don’t encourage such activities in Winnipeg.

It was funny to hear Ali his wife call and have wifely conversation while on the golf course. Wives have a knack for calling when men are playing golf.

Haley absolutely loved Chris and misses jumping up on him.

I heard a lot about cities that I couldn’t relate to geographically …. I think they have to drive a long way to get anywhere.

I heard a lot of national pride about his city and province.

He called a bathroom/rest room a wash room. He really said, “eh?” 

Lastly, the pride of Canada faced off with team Wreggie USA in golf. The scores were so bad that we didn’t add them up. I think I caught up with him on the back nine and may have won. 

Religion Anyone?

We all think about religion whether we acknowledge any particular formal faith, religion or not. 

I know a few atheists, a good sprinkling of secularists who believe in God but not much else, Jews, and many flavors of Christians. 

I do not know any Muslims and I must confess I don’t particularly like them due to a murder of a friend of mine in the name of their religion. I suppose I will forgive them one day but until then I harbor hate for them.

The culprit in question for the murder was killed by a US bomb. I still miss my friend and his death was unnecessary.  

Of all the flavors of Christianity I have two friends that are polar opposite in beliefs but base their rewards in the afterlife on their behavior during life. Their life is ruled by guilt, not joy.

One person is certain that good deeds will redeem him and he does some mighty find things for humanity even Jesus would be proud of but he doesn’t believe in the basic tenants of the faith. 

The other person believes in the avoidance of well documented sins and spends his life covering his ass by avoiding sin and forgets the good deeds. He believes in whatever is necessary to get him in heaven.

I believe neither of the above will redeem them based on classic Christianity and think they are missing the point of Christianity.

What do you think? 

Sincere Holiday Wishes

To All My Forward Thinking, Liberal Friends:

Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2009, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere. Also, this wish is made without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.

To My Conservative and Independent Friends:

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Behind the Scenes at Mental Vacation

Recently I had a visit from another blogger and he witnessed and actually sat at the command center of Mental Vacation. 

I thought I would take this time to share a “Behind the Scenes at Mental Vacation” post.

Our day begins early in my PJ’s, coffee in hand, as I meet with staff members to discuss the content for the next posting. Haley prefers to attend the meetings in the nude and drinks water from her dog bowl.

Here is Haley at a recent early morning staff meeting lobbying for another dog shit story.

As we read the news from overnight, catch up on emails and other blogs, senior writer Wreggie begins to congeal the content for the next article in Mental Vacation.

Without hesitation the content begins to spill from the consciousness of Wreggie onto the screen of his trusty HP Pavilion DV 9000.  

Immediately you can detect the computer’s heat fan turn on as the grammar and spell checker begin to work wildly.  Squiggly red lines cover the now filling Word document.

Once the thought is up on the document it is now time for sentences to be restructured and words that spill cheeker can’t figure out what the hell I’m trying to spell are thrown to Google in hopes that a suggestion will come back…”did you mean” and at last an unspellable word can be rendered readable.

Attempts at humor are injected where possible and final proof reading.

A quick copy and paste to blogger, then a photo is attached and the content formatted.

Finally the publish button and one final glance to see if it all rendered to the high standards you have come to expect here at Mental Vacation.

Fascinating, huh? 

Hateful Insults

The other day an Iraqi reporter threw a shoe at the President of 

the United States. This is considered the mother of all insults in the Middle East.

Oh boo friggin hoo…..as I sit in sackcloth heaping ashes over my head while rocking back and forth mumbling. Not.

You stupid ass (effective hateful insult omitted). Don’t you know that insults like this don’t work on WASP people? (White Anglo Saxon Protestants) Our current President is a WASP. We are immune to such insulting language and gestures. It rolls off our back and we truly don’t get it.

The key is Protestants. Whites with Catholic backgrounds do get bent out of shape over hateful words.

Back in high school area blacks would constantly try out new hateful weaponry. I was called a cracker, a honky and the insults bounced off my chest like a bullet on Superman.

A white friend of mine even named his dog Cracker like he actually was Superman playing with kryptonite.

You see…we own the nuclear weapon of all hate words and you who react to it have allowed us to own it and have given us power by your reaction to the word.

I don’t use the word for the hate it was intended but you allow me to hold it in my arsenal if I need it.

We have modified the word so that it can effectively harm most anyone. So I simply add the adjective “sand” in front of the forbidden word and I have effectively nuked the reporter without ever being insulted myself.

To the citizens of Iraq….I am a WASP and I don’t get it. A solid majority of non-WASPs don’t care. Enjoy yourself. 

A Contrast of Two Families

I love to eat good food and I like to cook for people who like to eat and experiment, especially at an event. I guess it’s a wild fantasy of mine to have married into a fat Italian family where a meal means a celebration.

My wife’s side of the family is for the most part straight up missionary style eaters. Meat and potatoes only as long as it is normal meat and white potatoes. Don’t try any lamb or sweet potatoes, just the beef and the fluffy white style of potatoes.

No bread or gravy because it makes you fat. If you leave off the bread and gravy they’ll ask for it. It’s loose-loose in some departments.

The food they eat doesn’t have to be good. I know, I’ve served them crap from the box and can and they are just as happy as if you slaved over the meal all morning. So I don’t bother anymore prepping great meals.

One member of Gigi’s family’s only requirement is the food must be hot. This is difficult sometimes because timing food to be hot means you must be there when the food is hot, but I’ll get into that in a moment.

Going to a Mexican restaurant is a wild culinary night for them. They are more consumed with talking about their weight and how they keep it under control rather than enjoying a good meal and a social event.

It is not uncommon for them to ask you how much you weigh and how much do you want to weigh? To me, how much pull gravity has on my body is not a table conversation. But they'll insist on this conversation at every gathering.

When ever we cook here at my home we expect her family to be unpredictably late. They will be late, we just don’t know how late. For this reason they will never eat food at its peak.

If by chance all of her family is here at once, a call to a meal comes as an unexpected event and they scatter to “wash up” like they haven’t peed in days while doing their normal turd juggling job. Some may be gone 10 minutes washing like raccoons. Jeeze, how dirty can your hands be? We use forks here.

There is always one straggler; (I won’t mention who) who finally makes the grand entrance for all to see. By then the food is cold and the aforementioned is upset because his (or her) crappy box food is cold.

In contrast, call my family to a meal and you get an almost cartoonish crowd instantly that is all smiles dirty and full of pee or not. In fact Judy and I are without a doubt the fastest responders.

Judy and I will smile and make yummy faces at each other because we really like what we are doing.

Oh the joys of the holiday season. 

Man Times...the memories....

Me playing golf today in 68 degree weather.

Prime tailgating. 

Chris watching the kitchen while others graze.

Feasting on his first country ham and grits. 

Dude…You Chop Some Mean Onions

Yesterday I picked up Chris at the airport and whisked him away to Bank of America stadium to begin his emersion into the NFL.

Just a recap from an earlier, Chris was to fly in from Manitoba to watch his first NFL game and his beloved Brocos play Carolina.

I’ve got to say Chris is one nice guy. Polite, a great conversationalist (not to be confused with an incessant talker), witty, oh I’ll admit it. I may be having a man crush.  You did a good job finding Chris, Ali.    

We took his picture in front of the Panthers statue and headed into the Panthers store.

I did take advantage of his medial expertise and had him check my stitches. “Hmm a bit red but they look okay. Boy those are some big knots.”

His accent is almost like an Irish brogue.

Off we went to reveal the hollowed tailgating parking lot and then we moved east to settle the trail dust over a few beers at my country club. Then we picked up mussels and whole oysters at the grocery store and headed home.

He met Gigi, my FIL and all the dogs.

Then it was off to the hard work of food prep for the game. I deveined shrimp while he chopped onions. I looked over and noticed he is quite the onion chopper and thought I would share this moment with his lovely wife so we called her.

I made a reservation at Bonefish and arrived around 7:30 PM. In case you haven’t noticed we have a seafood theme going this weekend. Chris told me earlier via email that he doesn’t get quality fresh seafood in Manitoba and wondered if I liked seafood.    

Does a fat dog fart? Hell yes I love seafood and we are blessed being just a few hours from the coast so we get most anything we want seafood wise.

At Bonefish we ate mussels and calamari then we all dined on various fish entrées. All plates included succotash sides which he commented that he had never tried.  The meal was darn good.

This morning I will take him to Jimmy’s for breakfast and have to get him to try some grits and country ham. Then we'll load the jeep and wonder around the country side and end up ready to tailgate. 

Ali, your man may be 10 pounds heavier when you get him back Monday.  

Saturday Edition of Funny Friday

A Christmas Dog Shit Story

It’s been a while since I have shared a good heart warming dog shit story with my readers.

For new readers let me tell you that I live with five border collies who “work” by day outside (unless it’s raining) and sleep 12 hours at night in our house. These dogs are inseparable and even travel with us when we “camp” in the RV. They are our kids.

A few days ago it was time for the annual cleaning of the carpet. We do this once a year whether we need it or not to even out the tones created by dirty dog feet and orange clay, chewing of treats, accidents, etc.

When I came home from work the other day I was impressed. The guy did a great job on the carpet even the high traffic areas.

That night around midnight Haley woke us up by scratching the intake grate in the hall. They all do this to wake us up. Gigi swears they have a border collie manual on “how to wake up the humans”.  

Gigi got up to let Haley out but when she entered the dining room Gigi realized Haley woke her up simply to show off her steaming heap on the newly cleaned carpet.

Gigi went ballistic. “Okay young lady…you’re going to be my bitch today”.

Now technically Haley is a bitch (female dog) but I think Gigi was using the deeper dominate meaning of bitch.  

One thing I learned early on is border collies don’t take a scolding well at all. They hate any perception of failure and a scolding makes them withdraw.

And so, being Gigi’s bitch for the day involved sleeping in our bathroom the rest of the night, staying on a leash, and loss of freedom. 

Haley was noticeably shaken by her punishment.  

Last night Haley woke up by scratching the grate and Gigi woke me up to let Haley out. It was pouring down rain outside. One the way out I checked for accidents and the coast was clear.

I opened the door and Haley uncharacteristically ran out into the darkness and downpour.

After a few minutes I called for her, “Haley, that’ll do! Come home monkey shine!”

No response, just dark rain.

Gigi and I lay in our warm bed as Gigi verbally speculated that Haley had tied a red bandanna with her squeaky monkey inside to a stick and decided to run away.

Dawn came and no signs of Haley.

Finally Ramón our leaf cleanup guy knocked on the back door and a soaking wet prodigal border collie stood behind him.

Haley and Gigi made up. They sat in front of a warm fire and ate ginger cookies and hot chocolate. (I made that part up). 

What Did I Do?

At 52 I still have the ability to read without glasses most of the time however there are exceptions. For those exceptions I keep multiple pairs of cheap drugstore glasses around.

Recently one of those exceptions came up, I think it was that I couldn’t see, yes, that was the exception, so I put on some readers and started looking at some fine print.

These glasses were the half lens type that I could wear lower on your nose enabling me to glance up and see normally over the lenses.

Gigi walked in the room and began telling me something and I looked up without saying a word and gave her my undivided attention. After a few minutes of listening to her every word she said, “What are you so pissy about?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve got this attitude and I don’t like it.”

The subject changed to me being an asshole and the only words I spoke was, “Huh”.  

I realized it was my glasses giving her the intimidating feeling. I took the off and asked; “Honey, is this better?”

She wasn’t convinced and went huffing off to the bedroom.  

A Visitor is Coming

I have a visitor coming to my home this Saturday; an unlikely visitor just a few weeks ago. He is a fellow blogger and husband of one of my oldest blogger pals Ali.

Yes for those who know them he is Chris of “It’s the Med’s” and husband of Ali of “Idiosyncrasies of a Gemini Mind”.

Chris loves football both his CFL team Winnipeg Bombers and his favorite NFL team the Denver Broncos. Ali doesn’t get as most wives don’t get it.

A few weeks ago I found out that my regular pal Bruce would not be attending the Carolina/Denver game in Charlotte so I had a ticket available.

Now we have for some time now threatened to meet Ali and Chris either by them traveling to Charlotte or us traveling to Winnipeg but nothing seemed important enough to warrant a trip. Oh yes a child was born and she is lovely.

I feel like I know them by their blogs and they remind me so much of Gigi and I when we were in out late 20’s, newly married and struggling to get a career going. Plus we love reading about their lives as new parents and watching their careers unfold.

And so when I found out I had this ticket my first thought was to see if Chris wanted to come and watch the game. I knew it was short notice, near Christmas, money is tight with everyone but I asked Ali via email ands he accepted.

So Chris will travel Saturday from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada to Midland, North Carolina, USA to watch his first NFL game in person. I am as excited as is he.

We’ve been exchanging emails like giggly school girls except this is serious man stuff. It involves stuff we like and I must say my hat is off to two lovely women who are putting up with us , Ali and Gigi.

Sunday promises some good tailgating, football watching on TV from the parking lot, and then a live game in the stadium.

Then there is some other time for maybe golf if my finger heals enough.

Wreggie the Walrus

Yesterday I spent hours on end outdoors exposed to temperatures unbecoming to me. In order to maintain some level of comfort I layered my clothing and managed to stay warm.

Beneath it all at the foundation was a layer of skin tight Under Armour made especially for cold conditions.

Under Armour is made to fit snugly so your regular clothes fit and you don’t feel all bound up.

My Under Armour is black. I put this stuff on in front of the mirror which was mistake number one.  I could have grabbed a couple of bananas, stuck them in my mouth to simulate yellow tusks and then wallowed on my belly to join a group of walrus at the zoo.

I slid on my regular clothes and sure enough everything fit fine except my limbs now had a tendency to resist flexing at the joints. Bend an elbow and the under garment pushed it back out straight. 

I headed out the door and thought perhaps I should urinate before I travel.

Mistake number two. This underwear does not have a fly in the front but rather a 4 inch overlap of tightly fitting material. There was no way I could maneuver things through my pants so I had to unbuckle my pants at the urinal to pull up my shirt tail and pull down my powerfully elastic bottoms to make things work. The tension on this undergarment was strong and I whimpered a bit when my stitches on my cut finger came in contact with full strength of the elastic. 

I heard someone in the stall nearby clear their throat like “Dude…what are you doing over there?”

It took me 5 minutes to do what normally takes 30 seconds and it made me look like a pervert.

Mistake three was getting undressed in front of a mirror. Finally about 12:30 AM last night I struggled to peel off the under garments and dashed to pee. I had to go so bad that I fell once with the underwear around my ankles.

I hate winter….have I said that before? 

Tis the Day to be Jolly.....

I am ready for some football….a Monday Night 

Party!

Today I drag out Gargantuia the 5th wheel and proceed to downtown Charlotte with the tailgate plans. I spent most of yesterday washing the gigantic beast from its long stay on the coast of North Carolina.

Today I’ll load it up with good tailgate things and head downtown mid afternoon.

What kills me is everyone’s fear that they are going to be a victim of crime tonight. My buddy Bruce was supposed to stay in town tonight with me in the RV but expressed his fear yesterday that not only was he afraid for his life, but he didn’t even want to leave his car downtown overnight.

Now think this out Bruce. You will be in an RV with only one source of entry and it will be locked. The owner (me) packs heat. I have a .38 nearby the bed and a .22 on my person always unless it is unlawful to carry. The town will be crawling with police and people until 2 to 3 AM. You have a better change of being a victim driving home 2 hours with 70,000 drunks on the road. That is the reason we decided to stay over in the RV…remember?

Jeeze, and I have already paid $75 to park the beast.

Never again do I want to hear someone ask me, “Do you feel safe at night on the island of St Croix?”

I’ll answer, “Do you feel safe walking around downtown Atlanta, Baltimore, Charlotte, Dallas, Jacksonville, etc. at night?”

Damn man, what does a thief want from a 52 year old man wearing a football jersey that smells like brats surrounded by like gentlemen?

What a wussy. Where is your sense of adventure man? 

Go get some new tennis balls for your walker. I'm not ready to crawl in the hole of fear to sights imagined and unseen.

Not a Bad Day After All

There was some big doings at the Wreggie wranch yesterday. Saturday was my first day off of four days and I was darn happy to get to this time off. I had a lot of chores to catch up on and some early prep work for Monday Night Football.

I went out early to wash the truck, pick up shavings for the horse stalls, pick up hay for the horses, and pick up the newly floored horse trailer. Then back out for a cooler full of beer and hamburger fixings to grill for the pay per view fight in the evening.

I put together a plastic Rubbermaid shed and did some general clean up in the back yard.

I took a shower late afternoon to prepare for our guests to come over to watch the fight.

There was still a little time before my BIL and SIL were due over so I decided this would be a good time to cut some holes in an old metal trash can so I could us it as a burn barrel for heat Monday Night. One hole cut just fine so I moved the operation to the opposite side.

I was drilling away when suddenly the hole cutter blade bound up in the metal, jumped up out of the hole , and tore into my left thumb. The cut was deep and I was afraid I may have done some real tendon/ligament damage.

Gigi threw me a clean towel to compress the injury and I headed to the hospital get four stitches. I jumped in my pickup and tore out of the neighborhood when suddenly I noticed in my rear view mirror a cooler in the road with lots of ice and broken bottles of beer everywhere. I had forgotten to close the tailgate. I stopped and cleaned it all up.

Surprisingly I was in and out of the emergency room in 1 ½ hours and my wallet $150 lighter after the co-pay.  Luckily no real damage was done to my thumb except a deep cut which required some stitches.

I really enjoyed watching the procedure like it was someone else’s thumb being work upon.

I got home in time to cook the burgers and watched the fight.  

The main event started at 11 PM which is late in my household. I was dozing in my chair when my SIL yelled to me that the fight was about to begin. We had a good time yelling and commenting.

It was funny to watch the dogs staying up too. Normally our dogs call it a day around 7 PM and sleep for 12 hours. They kept walking around looking like, “Would you people please leave so I can go to bed?” 

Breakfast

Not to be outdone by my snotty nosed little nephew I too decided to have my hand at making bagels.

The finished product….not bad.

Here the dough is resting after kneading and dividing.


Boiling.....

After they are boiled and ready for the oven.

I can now bake decent bread, bagels and make damn good beer. This knowledge will come in handy one day when I open Wreggie Legend’s Provision Company of St Croix

Another Man Adventure

I have an upcoming man adventure in 5 days that has my mind preoccupied for now.

Monday Night Football is coming to town and that always is a big event in the NFL world. The tailgating is as fun as the game.

This game I will take my 34 foot RV so we can overnight downtown. The game will go on until 1 in the morning and there will be plenty of drunks so staying put is the best idea after the game.

I’m glad to have the RV back in my site again. I missed having a fully stocked alternate kitchen in my back yard. It seems like everything we needed this summer “was in the RV” parked 4 hours away.

Now all my toys are home and we have another guest room should the need arise.

On Monday I’ll tow out of here in the morning and fight traffic for a parking spot downtown for this behemoth.

Carolina doesn’t have a parking lot for their stadium so you are in competition for parking with 70,000 commuters and 70,000 fans looking for a parking space to tailgate around 4 to 5 PM on a weekday game.

Another friend has his motor home coming so we plan to circle the wagons, fire up the grill, make a barrel fire and get ready for some football.

I am trying to contain myself so Gigi doesn’t get sick of me squirming like a worm in hot ashes. 

Damn Liars

Dear Direct TV,

I see you have helped yourself to my good graces and credit card again.

This weekend I will order the HBO pay per view boxing match and will pay $64 for the right to see it in HD. Thank you for making this possible, it is a lot cheaper than getting ringside seats in Vegas.

But I have a bone to pick with you. Remember back a few months ago I was having DVR problems and you changed the subject and started asking me about my HD Receiver? I didn’t think so but anyway you did ask and found out I had a suspected receiver that was recalled and needed to be replaced.

You sent me a new box and a repair guy to fix the DVR leaving the old receiver behind.

I called you and asked you if you wanted me to send the receiver back and you said, “No, you owned that particular receiver so you can throw it away.”

“Are you sure,” I asked, “Because I don’t want to see the charge on my bill in a few months.”

“Yes sir Mr. H, you can throw it away.”

“Okay”, I said in a distrusting tone.  

Well, well, when I went online this morning to preorder the event I see you helped yourself to the tune of $240 on my credit card. You and I both know what this if for and you my good corporation are not entitled to this money. This is my money, not yours. You said so.

Direct TV, you are now both a thief and a liar. They would cut off your hand for this in Iran.  

Oh we’ll be talking today and at the end of the call you’ll want to know if I am all happy and had all my questions answered. I’ll say yes to get you off the phone but I’ll still be pissed.

Sassy

The horse intervention is over. Yesterday Gigi and I picked up Sassy and Cotton for their trip back home.

Hopefully they will be better mannered and respectful horses.

I mentioned in an earlier post that Sassy hates being a horse and it is true.

She doesn’t seem to like her little horse feet. Hers are hard black bowling ball plastic things that will split if they aren’t trimmed regularly. I think she would rather have toes.

Sassy hates flies. Big horseflies always bite her above her tail and all she can do is run and scream.

Sassy hates wet and cold weather. She is not too fond of extremely hot weather. She hates the outdoors come to think of it. Being outdoors is critical to being a horse.

Sassy does not like to run. She will only run if threatened with a crop and then will only sustain the run for as long as you are willing to crop her.

Sassy wakes up grouchy every morning at the realization that she is a horse for another day. She’ll pin her ears back and take nips at you if you get too close in the morning.

I don’t think Sassy like hanging out with other horses….not too good if you are a herd animal.

She doesn’t care for all the icky things of being a horse like peeing on the ground, standing in the presence of manure or the occasional visit by a snake, squirrel or spider or eating off the ground.

She’s just not a horse person at all

My Buddy....Pee Tah!



Peter (on the left) makes the best rum drinks on the island.

I'm Not Sure How To Title This

Yesterday was a full day. I drove down early in a driving rain to the coast to get my RV. Now was as good of time as any to retrieve the RV since the rent would be due in a week.  

What I was prepared for was a cold drizzle but when I got there it was a pelting cold rain. I had a lot of outdoor work to do. In 30 minutes I was soaked to the bone remembering Gigi instructing me before I left to take heavier rain gear.   

In an hour I was sweeping off the roof feeling like a rigger in the North Sea capping an oil well in a gale storm.

I got home safely had a few warming glasses of wine and watched Cops. Then off to bed where I had this very strange and disturbing dream.

I dreamed Gigi had this gigantic scrotum and testicles surgically implanted and she was so proud. She explained it was fashionable now for women to have balls and these were acceptable and commonplace like body piercings and tattoos.  

They didn’t do a thing for me. I asked if they could be removed and she said, “Yes, but why would you?”

A Friday that Feels Like Saturday

Today it is warm in the upper 50’s and I’ve been out mending fences for the return of our two horses.

I figured the electric fence better be hot just in case they want to test the boundaries. The electric fence hasn’t been hot for maybe a year but the horses thought it was hot so they stayed back. Honestly I could have put up string and they would have stayed clear.

I’ve been hit a few times by this electric fence and thought lightning was going to come arching from my nipples. It will sure get your attention.

So while walking the line I found maybe a dozen breaks, 8 shorts and around 100 yards of vines and undergrowth that led to the demise of the fence. It’s all cleared and repaired except for a small area that I’ll fix after lunch.

Tomorrow I am going to drive down to Southport and bring home the RV for the winter. There is no need to pay rent if we aren’t going to be there. We are questioning whether we used it enough anyway to justify the cost. Plus it kept us from being able to go anywhere else having the RV parked so far away.

So tomorrow will be a long day and about 500 miles.

Then Sunday at midday promises 40 degrees and rain as I pick up the horses and bring them home hopefully well trained.

I saw Gigi riding Sassy last Sunday and the horse would barely move. Sassy has always hated being a horse. I hate riding a horse so Sassy and I will get along just fine.

Good Morning Ya'll

I woke up around 4 AM with indigestion all to be damn. What could be wrong I thought?

Let’s see, I was sick as hell two days ago. Gigi is sick with the same thing so I had no formal supper last night.

What did I have…oh yes a few slices of cheese, a sardine, a cupcake, a few cheez-its and some wine.

Hmmmm…ya think that could have done it?

Happy Thanksgiving wishes to all.

Let me suggest a good read and Thanksgiving story that starts on the blog of my regular read Micky T and continues on yet another blog. It reminds me of the same times in the 1970’s when I was their age. 

Contest Winner!!!!!

The winner of the contest has been chosen. I will personally present the prize on Feb 8, 2009. 

No hints, you’ll have to wait. 

A Special Tuesday Edition of Funny Friday

Winter caught up with me yesterday. Mid day I became deathly ill with shivers, chills nausea, and just a general “oh crap I am sick” feeling all over.

I went home mid day after a purge and slept 14 hours.

I am better today but weak.

Why does this only happen to me in the winter? I never get sick in the summer.

And now a poem sent by a friend:

A WOMAN'S POEM:

Before I lay me down to sleep,

I pray for a man, who's not a creep,

One who's handsome, smart and strong.

One who loves to listen long,

One who thinks before he speaks,

One who'll call, not wait for weeks.

I pray he's gainfully employed,

When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.

Pulls out my chair and opens my door.

Massages my back and begs to do more.

Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,

Knows what to answer to 'how big is my behind?'

I pray that this man will love me to no end,

And always be my very best friend.


A MAN'S POEM:

I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with

huge boobs who owns a bar on a golf course,

and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This

doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit..

 

The End

Sore Winners?

Let me first say that politically I am a conservative. Second currently there is no popular political party that even comes close to representing how I feel the US should be governed. And finally my party affiliation is officially unaffiliated. They allow this in North Carolina.

I held my nose and voted for President a few weeks ago. I wasn’t enamored by either candidate.

One guy won under a groundswell of passion from the likes of a lot of my friends and relatives.    

Okay, good. We can go about our normal lives….not so fast.

My republican pals are now blaming everything that is bad on Obama even though the guy hasn’t taken office.

My democratic pal’s are just angry now for what, I don’t know. I would think the democrats would be jubilant. This is good as it gets my democratic friends. You’ll soon have 100% control of the federal government. Be happy; get to working and making the government like you want.

The election is over let’s talk about other things and be nice. Everyone has the right to think and believe what they want to think and believe. I just don’t want to hear about it all the time. 

Wine With Wreg


I know some of you will think I am a dandy boy but I really enjoy good stemware and using the proper stemware with the appropriate drink.

For those of you who drink everything from a Styrofoam cup you may want to come back another day.

The other night I met a group of guys at a very nice restaurant and we all had drinks at the bar before dinner. This was a top shelf place like what you’d expect AIG executives to be eating at after a 75 Billion Dollar injection of capital from the Federal Government.

My host picked a wine, a nice bold cabernet and the bartender picked up a shiny, spotless big cabernet glass and poured the plum colored nectar. She sat the glass down in front of me and I beheld its beauty.

I swirled, sniffed and sipped this classic varietal holding the glass by the stem as to not dirty the glass with fingerprints and I didn’t want to disturb the cellaring temperature of the wine by the warming heat of my hand touching the bowl.

Ah, this is mighty fine. All is right with the world.

Then we proceeded to the table and my host ordered a bottle of the same wine for dinner.  

The waiter began to pour the wine in what appeared to be much inferior wine glasses with thick glass sides, small bowls and short stems. My host and I at the same time stopped him and asked for an upgrade of wine glasses which he gladly did.

I couldn’t understand why he would whip out the Appleby glasses when he saw the quality glasses we were drinking from at the bar.   

The same goes for beer. Why not drink from a clean clear pilsner glass where you can see the bubbles and foam if you have a choice over drinking directly from the can or bottle.

If you want a small collection of inexpensive and elegant stemware go to Worldmarket where you can find reasonable cabernet glasses for $6.99 each.  I keep 8 around and always buy another every time I go there to replace and chipped or broken rims.

My glasses clean very well, sparkling and shiny using Cascade Double action in our dish washer.

Let me take snobbery up another notch. If you are about to pour a really fine wine it pays to gently breathe into an empty glass and then smell for detergent. Nothing ruins a good wine like soap residue. 

Lastly, acrylic glasses don’t work. There are plastic, don’t go there. The exception to the rule is a high quality Tervis Tumbler with a mixed drink in a warm climate.  

What??!!!

From a St Croix jobs listing:

Tip for Food/Drink Service: People who plan to work in food/drink service need health cards. Health cards are issued at the Community Health Clinic. On St. Thomas the clinic is located in the Roy Schneider Hospital, second floor. The cost is  around $46.60. Requirements are a photo ID, pictures, a social security card and you are required to take a stool test. 

Is there study material for this test?

Should I bring a turd or produce one while I'm there to prove it is mine. 

I have to show them a turd to serve food...did I hear that right? 


I Discovered Something New

Over the river and through the wood to Judy’s house I go. 

It is the Saturday when the Hunnicutt side of the family meets at my sister’s house in Durham for an early Thanksgiving meal.

Each member is in charge of certain foods. My charge is to make the traditional Hunnicutt yams and give a try at some of my new crusty bread.

Our yams are unique because they make heavy use of allspice. The recipe is simple. I know we having been eating yams by this recipe on my father’s side since around 1875. I alone am the torch bearer and I modified the recipe a few years ago to add some cinnamon.

I take canned yams or small canned sweet potatoes and slice them in a casserole dish. Each layer of potatoes gets a sprinkle of sugar, allspice, and a few dollops of butter.  Keep doing this until you have the desired amount of yams.

I usually add a bit of the syrup from one of the cans.

They cook at 325 for however long you want to. Usually I cook them for an hour or until they begin to turn dark and caramelize.  

I modified the recipe a few years ago. I take the same ingredients but make a sauce on the side and add cinnamon to the sause. Once this gets syrupy and cools down I’ll pour the syrup in a zip lock bag full of yams and let them soak overnight.   

The next day I pour the mixture in a dish and bake as usual.  

What I discovered is allspice is a native Caribbean spice that tasted to the English like a combination of nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves so they named it allspice.  The taste reminds me of native dishes I like in St Croix such as Goat Water Soup. Allspice is used in meat dishes on the islands.

Allspice is referred to as Pimento in some areas like Jamaica.  

This now explains to me the lyrics I hear in one of my favorite Reggae tunes:

We don't trouble your banana, we don't trouble your corn.

We don't trouble your pimento, we don't trouble you at all.

I thought they were growing pimento as in the red stuff in olives.  He’s talking about an allspice crop in the song.

I swear, one day I’m growing me some long thick dreadlocks and I’m moving down there.  

One for my Father

I stood this morning in the presence of one of my father’s hero’s. Maybe a hero is too strong but my dad had strong admiration for this man and knew all about him and his family.

I can’t say I have heroes.  I would love to have dinner or play golf with any president past, present, or incoming especially Bill Clinton. Same goes for Tiger Woods or Bret Favre. These people are interesting to me and I would like a shot at seeing what makes them tick.

I was in the Harris Teeter grocery store this morning when I passed this very big man stooped down picking up a bag of flour. I recognized him and turned back and said, “Are you Mike?”

He stood up and his 7 foot presence towered over me like a grizzly next to a small black bear.

“Yes I am”, he said.

I smiled and put out my hand and he shook it. I told him my father lived and breathed Duke Basketball when he played.

He smiled and thanked me and I walked toward the checkout.

For a moment I became emotional thinking about my dad and how he would have liked to meet Mike Gminski.

He is a nice guy dad. 

Fruit Update

Our latest bunch of rotten bananas.  I'll check back in a few days. 

Have I made Myself Clear?

I despise the hideous pointed witch shoes women wear now.  They are butt ugly on any woman and remind me of the wicked witch of the west on the Wizard of Oz.

Pointy shoes are the stirrup pants of our time. I look up to the heavens daily hoping that they will go out of style but I keep seeing women wear them.

I did notice a woman wearing a pair last week that exposed a bit of toe cleavage which is hot, but the shoes spoiled it all. She hobbled off like a cripple and got on the elevator.

I’ll stand by this opinion and will tell you your shoes are ugly as Ned’s Ass if you walk up to me with some of those pointy ugly ass things on your feet.

I bought a casual pair of men’s shoes on Ebay yesterday and was describing them to Gigi when she made all these ugly faces.

“Those sound like Jim Murray shoes”, as she describes any comfortable homely men’s shoes like our retired 80 something former pastor Jim Murray might wear.

“They aren’t ugly”, I implored.   

How the hell would anyone know what a good looking shoe would look like if they wear witch shoes? 

An Amazing Discovery

I have made an amazing discovery that has helped me endure our first snap of cold weather. Here is the secret; if I wear enough clothes I don’t get cold.

This may sound like common sense for most of you but for a guy who has lived his whole life in denial of winter this came as a welcomed discovery.

No longer am I dashing out to the car to get my cell phone in shorts and flip flops when it is 30 degrees outside. I now take the time to put on a thick coat, proper shoes and like magic I stay warm.

I really hate the bulkiness of winter clothing. Thick shirts tucked into heavy jeans all covered with a heavy coat. Hell I won’t know if I gained weight this winter until spring.

And when I shower now I feel so naked…. Like a picked chicken. But I am staying warm.

Manners

I love fine dining, clean glasses, silverware, doilies and manners. I ran across these suggestions on a blog. My comments follow.

1. When dining with six or more, it’s polite to wait till roughly 50% of the table has their food before starting your meal. In smaller groups, wait until the entire table has their food, unless food temperature is at high risk in decreasing the enjoyment of the meal, and/or others at the table incessantly insist you begin.

I didn’t know this and am damn glad I can start when half the guests are served. I was at a table of 20 the other day at Ruth Chris and waited for everyone to be served. Not anymore.

2. You can and should use your knife to cut large pieces of lettuce or other ingredients in your salad. Nothing is worse than trying to shove a large piece of lettuce in your mouth and having some of it stick out. (No brainer, but this applies to your entrée as well.)

I have forced myself to cut stuff in small pieces to slow down my eating.

3. The proper way to butter a piece of bread is to rip off a piece that’s about one or two bites in size, butter it, and eat it. Repeat. Never bite straight into a roll, and refrain from cutting it in half and buttering.

I did it this way and didn’t know it was proper. Also you are supposed to take butter from the main butter dish and transfer your portion to your bread plate to your left.

4. While cutting meat, the correct way is to cut a piece and then switch your fork to your right hand to pick it up. This method is considered the “American” way. Not switching your fork and using your left is called the “Continental” way, and is done most often in European countries. This way is gaining acceptance and I wouldn’t be surprised if one day soon it’s considered acceptable in fine dining. Also, cut meat a piece at a time. Cutting the entire meat up into pieces or cutting more than one at a time is tacky.

I ate lunch with a guy today that ate continental and I felt like I was in the presence of a mobster.  

Last week at Ruth Chris the guy across the table cut his steak up completely before he ate it. He looked like a 4 year old about to eat.

5. Wipe your mouth before taking a sip of your drink. It’s unsightly to see food particles or grease on the rim of your glass. Also, it’s considered rude to take a sip of your drink with your mouth full. Plus, backwash is gross!

Yep. I can’t stand to see a greasy rimmed wine glass.

6. When leaving the table during the course of your meal, put your napkin on your chair, not the table. No one wants to see your stained napkin. And at the completion of the meal, place it on the left of your plate, or if your plate has been cleared, in the center.

Yes again. I usually hang mine on the arm of the chair to let the waiter know I’ll be back.  

7. When in a situation where you have to pass food or condiments to others at the table, pass it to your right, or counter clockwise. Never do a “boarding house reach” across the table.

Common sense.

8. When you don’t want to swallow a piece of food in your mouth (e.g. a bone or a piece of fat), move the piece to the front of your mouth and use your fork (or spoon if that’s what you were using) to retrieve it from your mouth and into the side of your plate. The only time its okay to use your fingers is when it’s a fish bone.

I hate it when this happens to me. It’s all I can do not to hurl it out flying if it didn’t pass the swallow test. I prefer to cover up or camouflage chewed food and would appreciate you doing the same.

9. To get the waiter’s attention, the most polite way is to make eye contact. However chances are they are busy and/or are ignoring you. It’s acceptable to raise your hand to head level, just don’t go overboard by raising it way above your head and wave it about.

A good waiter is worth every dollar you tip. My FIL will flail his arms and yell, “Oh Miss…Miss!” to get their attention.

10. When you’re done with your meal, the proper placement of the silverware is to lay them parallel to each other and across the plate with the handles facing the right. To clarify, the ends would be facing 10 o’clock and four. Note: Not all waiters will know this and they still may ask you if it’s okay to clear your plate. At least you appear classy.

I know this but didn’t know about the 10 and 4 thing. Most waiters don’t know this signal. 

1962

Gigi woke me up laughing at her own funny thoughts. I guess this is healthy.

We started talking about whether I went to kindergarten or not.

“No I did not go to formal kindergarten. I went to some place where you finger painted and developed social skills for a few months”, I said.

I remember watching John Glen lift off for a three orbit ride on a Mercury spacecraft. My dad then took me to kindergarten and told me John Glenn would land by the time I got home at lunch.

Gigi asked, “Did you used to eat the glue?”

“It was paste Gigi, and yes I ate it. Everyone ate paste.”

At art time everyone got a torn piece of paper and they would come by with a big jug of thick paste. With a broken yard stick the teacher would dig out a dollop of paste and plop it on your piece of paper and told you not to eat it.

Everyone would sneak a lick of paste, the stuff tasted minty. It’s like everyone sniffed fresh mimeograph paper back then. It's what you did as a kid; eat paste and sniff chemicals on paper.  

I tailgated yesterday with an old school friend from Durham. We were in first and second grade together.

His name is Bash, short for Sebastian. Imagine two little boys in the first grade with names like Sebastian and Reginald.  

I asked him if Mrs. Witherspoon ever whipped has ass and he confirmed he got a butt whooping from time to time. I got spanked once for being a smartass.

In the second grade Bash got his mouth washed out with soap from the ever lovely Miss Pearson. She would take a bar of soap and a toothbrush and scrub out your mouth in the classroom bathroom. We would all sit in silence listening for any signs of struggling or crying.

I remember Bash took it like a man although his face was very red when he came out of the bathroom.    

Yesterday Bash was drinking some kind of beer that looked like used motor oil. I guess that soap dulled his senses. 

A couple of things to point out here in this bottom picture; John (Tree as he is known) does not have on pajamas. Those are the official NFL team patches sewed onto his fleece lined jeans of all teams except Dallas.

The lid on my grill is seared in brat and burger grease from just this season.

That box of crackers to the left is some new cracker that claims to be a cracker on one side and a pretzel on the other. Don’t bother they are nasty.