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Corky's log

Updated: 2018-02-24T06:18:30.153-05:00


Let's do this.


Winter Never Land


Despite the arctic temperatures and the endless amount of snow, ice, and school closings it's been a very productive Winter.

I've gotten a chance to organize the tackle box which means I'll be ready to fish as soon as the Ice Age ends.

The kids and I have built things with Legos, played video games, and watched Jake and the Never Land Pirates for about a month straight now. I'm not even gonna waste time on this post bitching about the fact that Peter Pan only makes an occasional cameo on that damn show. Who the fuck is Jake anyway?!?

My wife has kept her mind occupied and her spirits up during this relentless bitch of a Winter by cooking bacon flavored coconut concoctions out of her Paleo cookbook.

We even got a chance to go outside one day when the temperature was above 10 degrees to build a couple of snowmen. That was really awesome. After we started getting cold we went inside and watched a show about Never Land where the main character's name is Jake and not Peter.

While the melancholy and the cabin fever has been fun, Spring is just about around the corner. Next week the forecast is calling for temperatures in the low 60s. I look forward to seeing the Sun again and maybe even getting a splash of color back on my face.

I'm on vacation in two weeks and wouldn't it be splendid if I could spend that time fishing in a thawed out lake instead of watching Jake fish in Peter's ocean? That would be terrific. 

Nip and Tuck


I just watched a commercial for the Genie Cami Shaper  (on the NFL Network). According to the commercial, this shit hides and folds all sorts of sin. It makes fat disappear like magic!

I've seen the commercial a few times now and I just marvel at way Cami Shaper transforms a dumpy woman into a brick shit house right in the blink of an eye. 

 For 60 bucks it's not a bad deal. To sweeten the pot they throw in a few other colors, like black and skin.

I'm pretty much sold other than the fact that I'm a guy.

Now if Genie comes up with a nylon girdle for guys I'm definitely  interested, but for 60 dollars not only do I want mine to nip and tuck, but it better be bullet proof and augment my strength by at least 10 times. I'm cool with white and black, but prefer a charcoal gray more so than a skin.

Welcome Fall


The high for today is going to be 72 degrees. I'm definitely down with that.

In a few hours the lads and I are gonna do some early Fall fishing and then we'll come home and watch football. Can't beat a day like that.

Hopefully we'll catch a mess of fish and spend the first part of the early games gutting and fileting crappie, cats, and sunfish. It doesn't matter though. We'll catch plenty of fish and watch tons of football over then next few months.

Love this time of year.


Be a Lasting Part of Everlasting Love at Camp Anapolsky!


Camp promptly begins on Thursday morning when the camper wakes me up.

During the school year we try to foster an environment of independence and promote good habits with our children.

During Camp Anapolsky that shit changes.

Our day will roughly begin at 10:30. The camper and I will eat cereal for breakfast. I will drink coffee and the camper can drink orange or apple juice. If the counselor want's to sleep till 11:00 then the camper will get his own breakfast and watch TV until the counselor gets his ass out of bed.

Once the counselor is up only 1960s television will be permitted during breakfast. Danny Partridge yes, Cailou no!

(Please note: Cailou is the most annoying children's television program of all time. Period.)

After breakfast the counselor will have an off-period and the camper will be sent to his grandmother's house until 1:30. Once the counselor returns from his off-period there will be swimming, fishing, breaking shit, archery, shooting, coloring, and eating.

In the event of rain we will eat, color, and watch reruns of  1960s television all camp long.

The camper is so excited for camp that he was having trouble sleeping tonight and camp is still four days away. It's completely understandable. Camp Anapolsky is fucking awesome!

So do yourself a favor and send your kid to Camp Anapolsky for the Summer. Your kid will make life long friend, learn how to fish, and break shit.

More importantly your kid will experience the finest decade in the history of public broadcasting from shows like the Odd Couple, Batman, The Partridge Family, Bonanza, The Monkees, and the Holy Grail of television, Star Trek.

Summer 2013


 2013 has been one of the coldest Springs we've had in 40 years. I know this because I fish and the crappie spawn was about 2 months behind schedule in Kentucky. Plus, I've seen tons of pics of dudes snowboarding in May on facebook. Crazy shit man.

I was beginning to think the Summer of 2013 had forgotten us and decided to go in a different direction, but it's here at last.

This Summer we fish, camp, swim, and go to the beach.

We're also adding a new sport to the 2013 Summer: baseball.

Lately my sons have expressed a good amount of interest in America's former national pastime.

The little one has a great natural swing, but is directionally challenged. The bigger one has much better eye hand coordination, but tenses up when he swings the bat. Both will be corrected by the close of the third quarter.

I don't want to screw the boys up for life.

 The best course of action is to watch some YouTube clips for correct batting mechanics. Or maybe I'll buy one of those batting videos from a retired Major League roid head. Either way, my fucking kids will be ready for Minor League Baseball by the time they graduate high school.

In the meantime, it should be a really nice Summer and I'm looking forward to having lots of fun with the family.

Out of Paper


Well, its March 2013. That means Spring will be here in a couple of weeks. I'm ready for some warmer temperatures so the crappie can move into shallow water to drop their eggs and eat minnows on the end of a hook that I supply them with.

I went to Walmart to renew my fishing license and they were out of the necessary receipt paper. I'm done with Walmart until I run out of gear. Once I've snagged all my hooks on rocks and stumps at Talyorsville Lake I will be spiritually ready to forgive Walmart for this outrage.
When I go into Walgreen's or CVS for an item I half expect them to not have what I need, but Walmart on the 3RD day of fishing season... fuck that shit!
I also perused the toy section, and although its improved since the end of the Holiday Season, I was not overly impressed.
I did get a really good deal on garbage bags and 1 gallon freezer bags while I was there. I got a lot for a little. And that's the name of the game at Walmart. Isn't it? But to not have fishing licenses on the 3RD day of Fishing Season?!? Again, FUCK THAT SHIT!Thankfully, I have a home computer with Internet access and I was able to purchase a KY Fishing Licence (and a trout stamp) on line. The thought crossed my mind to drive to another Walmart location in town, but then this thought crossed my mind: Fuck.That.Shit!
Despite my seething hatred for Walmart at this moment, I'm looking forward to a very productive month of early Spring fishing. One nice thing about getting my license online is that I was able to donate 2 bucks to the Fishing in Neighborhoods (FINs) program. The kids and I have thoroughly enjoyed the program and have taken full advantage of all that FINs has to offer. It's a really cool deal unlike the catastrophic inventorial fuck up at Walmart.

Why Can't Everyday Be Christmas?


(image) Spoiling Ben is a breeze and quite enjoyable. He likes all the crap that I liked as a kid. Benny's even got me interested in the Transformers. I primarily go for men in tights when it comes to action figures, but we've got a nice little collection of Robots brewing.

 Max is not as easy to spoil as far as gift giving goes. If he never saw another action figure (or toy) as long as he lived he'd be fine and wouldn't know the difference.

This is difficult for me...

But I'm a grown man of 42 and my love for him transcends even the love I have for Captain Kirk.
This week has been a good week for the younger tot, Ben. He has eight new obscure figures from Mattel's JLU collection and Max did not complain once that he didn't get anything. But I could see a little hurt in his eyes as he watched his brother hold one of the new figures.

So on my way home from work tonight I stopped off and got him these really awesome click-able coloring pencils and a pack of washable glitter glue. When he wakes up Crayola will be waiting for him along with $2.50 cents for his allowance (the kid's job consists of overfeeding the cat daily).

Before I picked out Max's gifts I wandered into the toy isle and saw two awesome Decepticon Jets for 11 bucks a piece. It's. so. hard. to. resist.

But I'm proud to say that I'm not one of those screwed up Fathers that tries to pressure his kids into liking what he likes (except for fishing) or thinking what he thinks. So I walked away from the Transformers and got the art stuff. I know in two and half hours when Max wakes up he's going to be a happy camper.

Besides next week those Decipticon Jets will still be there and I'll find other art supplies to buy Max's affection with.

And once again Max will be happy, Ben will be happy, I'll be happy, and I'll pat myself on the back for being a great dad. My wife Allyson will want to shoot me and as of right now I think I understand why, but by next week I'll have no recollection of the insanity or this blog post. 

January Gym Guy


It's the most dreadful time of year for the Gym Rat. Next week there will be a massive influx of fat people showing up to the gym at all hours of the day. Gym Rat will go to the gym at her usual time only to find January Gym Guy limping on her favorite treadmill.

To begin with, Gym Rat is already in a shitty mood cause she had to park in the grass due to January Gym Guy taking up all the parking spaces that are readily available in February through December. It's fucking cold in January. And although Gym Rat runs 5 miles a day she's not dressed or accustomed to dealing with the arctic wind that she'll have to endure walking from her car to the front desk.

Another thing that's gonna piss Gym Rat off is the fact that January Gym Slob will probably be working out in jeans demonstrating his utter lack of conviction and commitment to getting into shape. This will just rub salt on Gym Rat's wind burned face.

And of course January Gym Guy wont be able to keep his eyes off of Gym Rat. It's bad enough when Gym Rat feels a set of perverted eyes looking her up and down, but in January she'll have an entire room full of slovenly creeps eyeballing her from head to toe and drooling on themselves. It's really unfortunate.

Luckily for Gym Rat the first wave of January Gym Guy will be eliminated from getting into shape contention thanks to the NFL Playoffs. One good weekend of beer, wings, and shitty pizza will  knock off 75 percent of January Gym Guy.

The next 9 percent of January Gym Guy will pull a muscle trying to impress Gym Rat and that will be the end of him until next January.

12 Percent will work out so hard to ensure that the other dudes in the gym don't think he's a pussy. January Gym Guy wont be able to move for a month after the monster workout, but at least he's not a fucking pussy!

2 Percent of January Gym Guy will place a stop payment order on his February dues withdrawal. He can take that shit up with a collection agency.

1 Percent of January Gym Guy will become Aquaman and do nothing but swim at the gym.

That leaves 1 Percent of January Gym Guy and if everything works out according to the master plan Gym Rat might be getting asked out on a date in March.


Christmas 2012


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Peace and Love.



(image) Yesterday I spent my birthday fishing in a FARM POND. It was awesome. Today I'm going back to the FARM to do some more POND FISHING. That's the beauty of being on vacation in the middle of NOWHERE, NORTH CAROLINA.

NOWHERE, NORTH CAROLINA is really awesome cause there are tons of FARMS around here with lots of PONDS. I don't know if I was cut out to be a FARMER though. I like the soil, I like the peace, but I'm not very big on working long hours and it seems that when you own a FARM you have to work all day. Fuck that shit!

Also, I'm deathly allergic to hay. I slept in a barn once or twice when I was a kid and it almost killed me.

When I lived in DC there weren't many FARM PONDS, but I did pick up a skill that maybe I could apply out here in NOWHERE, NC. I could stand in front of FARMS with a sign and wait for FARMERS to bring their eggs to the FARMER'S MARKET to see.


I think the FARMERS out here would appreciate the fact that I wasn't asking them for money to support a really serious corn mash and barley habit.

Some of the Liberals I grew up with in New Jersey would like it out here too despite the fact that New York City isn't 20 minutes and 10 dollars away. Out here in NOWHERE, NC everyone is voting for Obama! I haven't seen one sign for the other freak. Obviously he's anti-FARMER.

Alto, there's plenty of chemically unaltered food, and everyone knows how the Liberal pretends to be such a health consciousnesses eater. It's a major part of the liberal's facade.

Anyway the sun's up and we FARMER WANNABE'S have plenty to do if we're going to make it to FARMER'S MARKET with a basket full of crappie ,buegill, catfish, and bass. See you at supper, Suckers.

Captain Corky's Kin Folk


(image) The first blog I ever wrote was about a woman named Wendi that was possibly my biological sister...

It's confirmed that Wendi is my sister and we connected online in March. Since first contact we've gotten together three times and we text/talk all the time.

Tonight on the Eve of my 42nd Birthday I met my brother Randy in Greensboro, North Carolina. He likes football, fishing, dipping, and beer. I love to fish, love football, I'm hopelessly addicted to dipping, and broke up with that bitch, Alcohol two years ago.

On Tuesday Randy and I are going fishing together. Who could ask anything more for a 42nd birthday gift? Sure beats a fucking nose hair trimmer!

Like I suspected in my previous post, I'm feeling a lot of emotion today. It's been quite a  roller coaster ride... happy, sad, glad, and bad. Why do I feel all these emotions? I don't know. Go Hop on Pop or something.

The bottom line is that I'm really happy. Despite 37 years and change of not knowing Wendi and Randy, the three of us are alot alike. We're all the same brand of crazy. And that's so fucking cool.

In 1984 our biological mother met her tragic end. It's my hope that she got a chance to look in and visit with us today. She would have felt a lot of love, gotten a chance to watch her grandchildren play together, and share ice cream and Captain America Birthday Cake with her 42 year old son.

The adventure is far from over... We have four more brothers to meet-up with some day. I've spoken to one on the phone and came across the mugshot of another on google. Who knows... maybe next October we'll all be in North Carolina eating ice cream and Man of Steele birthday cake. It wouldn't shock me true believers. ;)

Godric's Hollow


Thanks to the kid who provided the picture of Godric's Hollow

On Saturday Ben and I will be leaving for North Carolina. I will be returning to the place I was born for the first time since I was adopted at the age of 3. We will be traveling via river, but we'll be swimming down stream so it wont be as rough on us as it is for salmon or Vulcans. Also, I'm not going to NC to spawn. I did that in KY. Twice.

I'm going to meet biological relatives, see the grave of my biological mother, and fish in biological waterways. One of the biological relatives I'm going to meet is my older brother. He's a Cowboy fan so I suspect that he's quite delusional. Never the less, I'm excited to meet him. Apparently he's into Rush (the band not the tool) and likes to fish so he does have a saving grace or two.

Ben and I will be staying with my sister who has planned an entire week of meat and potatoes for my fat ass, so that's cool.

My birthday is on the 22nd and there will be a birthday party on Sunday. That will probably feel surreal. Other emotions I may or may not process include excitement, anxiousness, sorrow, and joy.

Above all else, I suspect I will feel a great amount of gratitude.

William Shatner is Coming to Town


The Best time of the year is upon us. Looking forward to holiday fun, trout fishing, football games, and cooler weather. There's no doubt that I'll enjoy all of the above, but I find my thoughts dwelling on the upcoming Summer of 2013.

WILLIAM SHATNER is coming to Louisville on July 26 and staying until July 28th. And the reason Bill's coming to town is obvious to anyone that has ever read this blog! He's coming to the "Ville" to meet Captain Corky AKA me.

For 150 dollars or so, Shatner and I will be in a picture together. Granted I'll be the one paying, but I can't think of a better way to spend a buck fifty.

Apparently, Shatner's face was the inspiration for Michael Myers. I don't know thing one from horror movies, but I do know from Star Trek, the greatest TV show of all time. The man who played Kirk will be appearing at Fright Night/Fandomfest and even though I don't give a flying fuck about horror movies, I'll be there wading through geeks of all kind.

Originally I was planning on wearing my Kirk uniform, but a good friend pointed out that I would probably be 1 out of 1000 people dressed like the good Captain. So plan B is to break out my T.J. Hooker uniform and wear that for the greatest weekend of my life.

For a little more money I can get a sit down with the Man and conversate on topics such as Star Trek, Horror Movies, horses, bitches, and ho's. I might just do that. All I know is that it's gonna be fucking fantastic.



I just got home from work and I thought instead of jerking off I would treat the world to a blog post. Pretty selfless of me, don't you think? It's not everyday that I'm willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to impart words of wisdom onto you, but like I said today is your lucky day!

My hope for today is that you will try and do something selfless instead of selfish. I don't expect your selfless act to be as selfless as my selfless act was, but you might find that doing something unexpected and nice for someone else is truly rewarding. And I'm not talking about holding a door for a stranger or saying thank you to some asshole behind a counter. You're not getting off that fucking easy!

Let's start with doing something nice for someone you know. Maybe your a lazy fuck like me, instead of sitting on the couch and queuing up an episode of Bonanza you've recorded on the DVR you could do a load of dishes and surprise a family member or a loved one.

Please Note: If you have a dishwasher go fuck yourself. That doesn't count.

Perhaps if you're bold enough you could pull over on the side of the interstate and pick some wild flowers for your special someone. That's not a bad idea. Just don't be an idiot and get hit by a fucking truck.

I have lots of ideas that I could give you, but I'm going to preform another selfless deed and let you think of something on your own. Two selfless acts in a 10 minute span. Not bad. Pretty good.

If you feel like it drop a line and let me know what selfless act you performed today and how the recipent reacted to it. Don't be a douche bag and get caught up playing some stupid game on facebook you selfish son of a bitch until after you've performed or planned your selfless act!



This particular article recently made the rounds on Facebook:  "Oooh, I know a gaslighter!"  "All men are total gaslighters!"

Oy vey.  Hand me a Zippo so I can light my own farts. 

Too many women have twisted the definition of "gaslighter" into a Gordian knot of self-righteousness.  Probably as I write this, Gloria Allred is scrounging up some poor unfortunate soul in order to make some money off of this trend.

By no means am I minimizing the fact that the many actual habitual gaslighters out there should be lit on fire with said gas and then mailed to that Canadian pornstar zombie for a crunchy, crispy dinner.  However, there are definitely many women out there who are, in fact, histrionic batshit crazy and would still be histrionic batshit crazy even if they were married to Prince or Princess Charming and led the most perfect life imaginable. These are women who will use that article as yet another weapon to claim that they aren't ever "sensitive", "emotional", "defensive", or "dramatic", but that it's the other person's fault 99.999 percent of the time for perceiving them to be that way.  

The author claims, "We continue to burden women because they don't refuse our burdens as easily. It's the ultimate cowardice."  No, the ultimate cowardice is not taking responsibility for your own actions.  It's hiding behind Oprah Winfrey-esque jargon to avoid facing the reality that maybe, just maybe, your inconsiderate actions caused your "gaslighter" to lose their patience with you and tell you the truth: Stop freaking out and think of the other side for once.  It's not all about you.  It's OK to stand up for yourself, but not when you are wrong and you refuse to admit it.

Reverse mind control perpetuates the cycle, leading to generations of F.I.N.E. people.  When is it ever going to stop?

Postscript:  I was histrionic batshit crazy once upon a time.  Then I grew up.  I think.

Running for Fun in the Hot Hot Sun


(image) Sorry Ben and Max, but Dad does not like to run for fun in the hot hot sun!

But after the sun started to go down I raced Max to the bait house. Damn he's fast and damn I'm slow.

Last Saturday I got a chance to watch my sons sit down in front of the lake and eat together. It only lasted for a couple of minutes, but the image and emotions will stay with me for the rest of my life.

To watch them turn into brothers right before my very eyes is one of the greatest gifts I will ever receive in life.

Nothing beats watching them play, eat, fight, cry, scream, scheme, laugh, plot, talk, or read together. Nothing. Not even Star Trek, football, and fishing combined.

There was a time in my life when I thought that maybe being a father wasn't in the cards for Captain Corky, but I was blessed with two boys and was given an opportunity to raise my children the right way (for me) and by right way (for me) I mean alcohol and drug free.

Today my job is simple: don't drink or drug, listen, contribute to life, do the next right thing, and help others. By attempting to do that stuff on a daily basis I've been able to be a better father, get A's in college, and improve personal relationships with people in my life such as: my wife, sister, parents, and friends.

I guess its also easier to look into a mirror and see that the beauty inside is starting to match the beauty on the outside. ;)

Next month I'm meeting my birth sister, Wendi and her family. Once upon a time I thought the best had come and gone... but now I'm starting to truley believe the best is yet to come.

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Blond Haired Blue Eyed Indian


As it turns out your beloved Captain Corky is Scottish and Lumbee Indian.

My biological maternal grandfather, Dewey Lowery was a Lumbee Indian. My biological maternal grandmother, Quessie Lowery was a Lumbee Indian. In turn my biological mother was Lumbee and that makes me more Indian than I could have ever hoped for.

In elementary school when my friends and I would sling racial slurs at each other they would taunt me with Indian war cries. The only information I had regarding my ethnicity prior to last week was that I had some Indian blood and it was assumed to be Cherokee.

So last week when Wendi (my older/biological/sister) explained that we were Lumbee Indian I started to learn all I could about Native Americans from the only source I've ever trusted, television.

F-Troop didn't really have as much information on the Lumbee as I would have liked though. Actually, I was even a little offended that most of the Indians portrayed on F-Troop were played by fucking Guidos!

According to a few things that I've read and heard, The Lumbee Tribe is recognized by the state of North Carolina as a Native American Tribe, but it is not federally recognized. There seems to be some opposition from the Cherokee (and others) as to the validity and origins of the Lumbee, but the bottom line is obviously wampum.

Remember when El Diablo Blanco stole America from the Indians with beads?

At the begining of this post I also mentioned that I was Scottish. I think Scotland is part of the United Kingdom or something...  And I read in Baby Names from A to 3 that Keith is a Scottish name meaning, "woods."

All of this new knowledge has inspired me to write a screen play about a guy who is half Lumbee and half Scottish. I'm calling the movie, White Indians can't Hunt.

Dewey Lowery's Certificate Of Death

Baby Keith


(image) In 1968 a girl was born in Cumberland County, North Carolina. In 1969 a boy was born to the same woman in the same location. In 1970 another boy was born to that woman. One thing is clear, the mother of those three children did not waste any time getting pregnant after having a child. Apparently to her there was no time like the drive home from the hospital.

The third child is me (the one in the middle of the picture). All three of us were put in foster care. 68 and 69 were adopted in 1974 by a nice couple from Greensboro, North Carolina.

I was adopted a year earlier by a meshuggeneh couple from Livingston, New Jersey.

The rest of my story can be found on the pages of this blog. But today I got the chance to speak to the adoptive parents of Wendi and Randy AKA my brother and sister.

I should hear from my biological sister and brother later today...

Needless to say my emotions have been a bit off. I've been excited, fearful, anxious, happy, and a whole plethora of other feelings that I keep at bay by taking 50 milligrams of Zoloft a day. I look forward to telling the rest of the story as it unfolds.

Who Would You Call With Your Last Goodbye?


(image) Don't ask me how or why I let it happen, but every morning Kris Allen asks me who I would call with my last goodbye. The answer is painfully obvious: Barry Williams.

Why Barry?

Well, even though I read Growing Up Brady, it would be far more insightful to hear William's thoughts on the Brady Bunch over the phone. I could get all the answers that Growing Up Brady doesn't cover.

Plus, everyone always picks their kids or their significant other to talk to before they die, but given the chance I would talk to Barry Williams AKA Johnny Bravo AKA Greg Brady.

So there you have it Kris Allen: the answer to that insipid question that you sing in that insipid song, Live Like We're Dying that gets played every night on that insipid Clear Channel radio station that we listen to at work. But somehow I know you're going to fucking ask me again tomorrow. You bitch.

The Third Rail of Current Events


This post is likely to piss you off or annoy you or upset you; if you are not in the mood to be upset, annoyed or pissed off, then I recommend you stop reading. I have to weigh in on the case of Trayvon Martin; what I have in mind will be very unpopular with most members of the herd.It's difficult to find a good starting point here. I will not preface my remarks with either some [what would be for me] less-than-sincere expression of how tragic Trayvon's death is or some watered-down expression of how tragic the death of any young person is in general. I will not express a desire to see justice for Trayvon. I'll leave that to the fools, apologists, breast-beaters and rabble-rousers out there. I will start with a round condemnation of the media, which have distorted reality almost beyond recognition in this case.My heart does bleed for the mother of the unfortunate soul, Trayvon. I chalk it up to her grief that she still harbors the nostalgic delusion of Trayvon as a sweet, innocent and harmless child. That the media have taken up and run with her delusion to create a similar illusion for our consumption is scandalous. Many of the stories have been little more than propagandistic race-baiting of the worst kind; fiction and fairy tales do not qualify as serious journalism.I heard one of the race-baiters say that Trayvon was guilty of nothing but "walking while black in a gated community." If eyewitness accounts are true, he was guilty of assault with intent to maim George Zimmerman. I have heard many people calling for "justice for Trayvon." Again, if the eyewitness accounts are truthful and accurate, Trayvon got his justice at the business end of George's gun. Skittles and a cell phone did not break George's nose, Trayvon's fist did. Some people have pointed out that because George had called police numerous times in the last however many months, he was gung-ho and looking for trouble. I instead find that fact to be exculpatory; he did not shoot any of the however many other people. Something different happened in this case, to wit: Trayvon Martin attacked George Zimmerman and was trying to beat him to a pulp before he got shot. He picked the wrong man to fuck with and paid for it with his life. Sorry for your luck, dude.If George had intended to kill Trayvon from the get-go, why would he let him lay a finger on him? Rope-a-dope? Are you kidding me? Letting someone bash your face and head in is not a good strategy for killing him. George was fortunate to have been armed that night and lucky to have been able to get the shot off. * * *President Obama himself weighed in with his comment that if he had a son he would look like Trayvon. He has neglected to note that his hypothetical son might also look like one of the teenagers in Kansas City who recently doused a (white) kid with gasoline and set him on fire (for being white). My question to him is: Irrespective of how he would look, would your son behave like these thugs? There were dozens of shootings on the south side of Chicago the weekend of St. Patrick's Day; over a dozen people died as a result. Many of them were genuinely innocent; where's the outrage and the outcry? I saw an interview with a pastor from that community. When responding to the question of why these young black men were committing all those shootings, his response was a poignant one--the harshest indictment possible of President Obama's fail[...]

Phonographic Flashback


I recently finished a painting job that had me at someone else's home alone, eight hours a day, five days a week. The man of the house would put the oldies station on the cable before he and his wife headed out to their jobs each morning; I found myself lost there in bittersweet memories. Too many songs were ones I could remember my mother singing along with in the car; although they were still totally familiar to me, they were strangely unrecognizable. Several of them brought tears to my eyes; a couple of them had me practically sobbing. What struck me hardest was knowing that Mommy really meant it; she wasn't just mindlessly singing catchy tunes. Whatever.

This one took me back to Babe's Billiards; one of the regular old-timers would play that song every day, followed by this one, then this one. I heard that grouping so many times that I can hear any part of any of the three and have all of them overload my mind at once. Fun.

This one is a bonus overload that accompanies the previous three; thanks, Moe!

This one used to bug me; I believe I'm quite over it now.

This one got me thinking about how much things have changed since the Everly Brothers first recorded it. How quaint! Nowadays, the friends are all like, "Like, did you get any?"

This one you won't hear on the oldies station, but how romantic is that?

I apologize for inflicting my suffering on you.

The 24 Hours of Winter


(image) Now that Winter is finally here I can do all the things that I wanted to this winter. I had a nice cup of hot chocolate on Sunday with two packs of Kroger hot chocolate mix for extra strength goodness. It was delicious and I enjoyed the warmth it provided me on the one and only day of Winter this year.

But thank God Winter's over with now so I can start getting ready for some fun outdoor adventures in the Spring! I was starting to go stir crazy being stuck inside all day yesterday. And the thought of all the lakes and ponds that I fish in freezing over last Saturday night made me sick to my stomach. 

Remember when Winter lasted more than a week? When I was a kid I enjoyed a good 3 month Winter. We would shovel snow for money, play role-playing games inside after we were done, build forts, go sledding, and play football in the snow. But I'm too old and lazy for most of that shit now. I still wouldn't mind playing a good role-playing game though.

Goodbye Winter, it's been real.

Let Justice Prevail!


 Black Siren, Tom Turbine, The Streak, Green Guardsman, Catman
After today's big game there wont be anything to do until the 2012 season begins in September. Instead of hibernating like I usually do I will spend most of the off season working on custom action figure creation.

The Justice Guild of America is a Super Hero team created for two episodes of the animated Justice League series that appeared on the Cartoon Network. Mattel capitalized on the series by creating a line of figures that I've spent thousands of dollars on (for my kids of course).

Now here's the thing: The Justice Guild had 5 members, but Mattel, just to fuck with my piece of mind, only produced 4 of the 5 members. So I had to customise Catman from a different line of action figures that my mother spent thousands of dollars on in the 80s.

Initially I was gonna watch some videos on YouTube describing the process of creating custom action figure molds, but that shit was too complicated for me so I just grabbed a couple of Sharpies and went to town. Catman clearly needs a few more coats of Sharpie, but he looks just good enough that my two year old is slightly confused as to why he's not Batman and I'm able to sleep at night.

Damn, I'm really good at making action figures. Next up: A complete line of Captain Corky customs.

Captain Corky's NFL Playoff Spectacular


Manning Hugging Wife
I'll have a blue Wild Card Weekend without you.
I'll be so blue watching the Divisional round without you.
Decorations of Terrible Towels on my Shitty TV Stand...
I'll have a blue, blue, blue Super Bowl.

Now onto the picks:

The Bungholes vs. The Texans. I don't like this game and wouldn't bet a nickle on it. I do like The Bungholes New QB and Wide Receiver though so I'll go with them.

Pittsburgh will destroy the Broncos.

Saints will beat the Lions. Every time I've sat down to watch a big game with the Lions they didn't show up. They clearly need some courage from the Wizard.

Falcons and Giants is another tough game to pick, but I like the Giants. The Falcons under Matt Ryan have never impressed in the playoffs. Eli Manning has won a Super Bowl so that's got to count for something. Plus, the Giants defense is playing better, or at least that's what they've been saying on sports radio and I just love to regurgitate that shit.