Monday, January 29, 2018

SUPER BOWL LII --- a drunken blogger explains it all!!! UNAUTHORIZED BY THE NFL!!!!

Two teams -  The New England Patriots and The Philadelphia Eagles - will meet on the battle field of U.S. Bank Stadium in Minneapolis, Minnesota; land of the Vikings, on February 4th, 2018 to decide the fate of the Universe.

Or who has the most deflated balls and/or referees on their side. (Patriots up by 10 in that arena!!! Sorry Eagles fans, maybe next year!!!!)

Commercials will be aired; bets will be made on who will win the coin toss and at the end, we will discover who can run a ball into the end zone more than the other guy!

I use to get into the fooseball; mostly on how many beers I could drink before my date stormed off in disgust at my drunken actions at the bar.

Nowadays, I just get drunk and watch the test patterns on channel 3 and ask random people at work; "Did you see that game yesterday? Holeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyy sheep shit!!!"

And 99.9 percent of the time they'll nod in agreement cause WHAT A GAME!!!!!

Tonight on

DRUNKEN BLOGGER EXPLAINS IT ALL - OR NOTHING AT ALL!! 



We delve into both teams; their history, their plays, their chances at winning this bowl and most importantly we kill about 2 hours because we just can't sleep!!

(Tummy ache!!!)

First we look at ----



 THE PHILADELPHIA EAGLES ---  The history of as deciphered by a lone male in his jammies at 12:16 AM ---

As any good reporter, I hit the Eagles website, looking for a condensed history of the team and discovering 6 pages of ten thousand articles per page from everything from best place kickers of all time to the ugliest cheerleaders of all time.

I decided it wasn't worth my effort to delve into too deep for this article/analyst of the BIG GAME  so in true MY AWESOME fashion, I decided to make shit up and hope most people will skip through this part in hopes to find out who to bet on.

(For those looking for the Phildelphia Eagles' cheerleaders, you can click ----> HERE! )

(For those looking for NUDE PHOTOS OF CHEERLEADERS -- go to Google.com image search and type in 'MY MOM NAKED' Enjoy!!!)

HISTORY STOLEN AND BASTARDIZED FROM HERE

It all began in 1933; the Philadelphia Eagles were born; screaming into the world in their short pants and no helmets, they fumbled and stumbled onto the field.

"We are Eagles! Hear us roar!!" was their motto and confused fans everywhere went, "Da fuck?"

During World War Two, The Eagles merged with the Pittsburgh Steelers due to a shortage of players and became the Baltimore Ravens, but after the war, the two teams un-merged and soon there was the Philadelphia Eagles we know and love today!!

Their fight song is ABBA - Dancing Queen as performed by the Fargo, North Dakota School for Asthmatic Girl Scouts!! (Don't believe me! GOOGLE IT!!! See???)

Their mascot is Hank D. Eagle who still caws out; "WE ARE THE EAGLES! HEAR US ROAR!" And the crowd, doing some sort of drunken dance screams out, "DA FUCK?"

BUDDY'S WATCHING YOU - DA RAP (1988)

Now we move onto the ------

THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS --- it's 12:39 in the morning and the same guy is blogging!! Amazing right?

History bastardized from HERE

Professional football arrived in New England on November 16th, 1959 when several businessman tried to get a professional hockey team into the area but instead; FOOTBALL became a legend or a dull yellow stain on the bed sheets of the Hotel No Tell Holiday Inn.

Their mascot is a Drew The Drunken Seaman and their fight song is WE GOT A RASH ON OUR FANNY.

Would we make this stuff up?

Of course not!!!

Both teams records are 13 wins - 3 loses and 48 pending felony trials.

HISTORY OF THE SUPER BOWL -

Super Bowl One -  played on January 15, 1967 - was played on the home world  of Gargon 7 in Quadrant Twelve of Universe 8.

Spiderman was the quarterback for Earth. While Ultraman took the role to see who was the true ruler of the universe.

It was named after Vince Lombardi's toilet and the name just stuck!!!!

WHO WILL WIN THIS YEAR'S BOWL?

Bud Light!!!

23 to 35!

And now you know, THE REST OF THE STORY!! Good night and have a better tomorrow!!


OH FRANK LITTLE WHAT DID THEY DO? MERCY FOR THEIR DOLLAR SACKS

Repost from Elitewriters.org
Frank Little was an American labor leader, who, on August 1st,1917, who was lynched in Butte, Montana for his anti-war and union activities.
In the early hours of that day, six men wearing masks broke into Nora Byrne’s Steel Block boardinghouse where Frank Little was staying.
Initially they broke down the wrong door and when confronted by Byrne, they declared themselves  police officers.
Frank Little was beaten in his room and abducted in his underwear.
He was then bundled into a car which then sped away.
Little was later tied to the car’s rear bumper and dragged over the granite blocks of the street. Photographs of his body show that his knee-caps had possibly been scraped off.
Little was taken to Milwaukee Bridge at the edge of town where he was then hanged from a railroad trestle. The coroner found that Little died of asphyxiation. It was also found that his skull had been fractured by a blow to the back of the head caused by a rifle or gun butt.
No one was apprehended or prosecuted for Little’s murders but there were speculations as to the culprits.
‘Oh the Company, only name it wielded with ever clever accuracy , did not like it when the bees begun to buzz around excitedly, riling up the other bees, to tell them to strike, that they, not The Company, controlled the gears of the machine.
They wished, in honesty, that they would not make a sound, keep working for the Company pulling that ore from the ground.
And when they could, and they would, they would make sure the troublesome bee would not buzz for long, and quickly he’d be hung, or shot, or even just disappear without a trace to this date, a cold case file sitting in a box.
“Slain by capitalist interests for organizing and inspiring his fellow men.” his grave marker reads, why was he killed, for being a noisy bee?
“Who killed him?” said the workers, trying to find the reasons.
Crickets still chirp, even to this day, though a few names begin to surface when you dig, but alas it’s only speculation that the police chief did skattle off for a few weeks, scratches to his face, time for them to heal.
A note with the words “First and last warning” was pinned to his thigh, a throw back to early days of vigilante justice, in the old west days of yonder,
To Butte’s workers, an estimated 10,000 workers lined the route of Frank Little’s funeral procession, which was followed by 3500 more, a record still proudly unbroken in the old mining town.
To read more about Frank Little, click here.

I am fine, thanks for asking - a Journal Entry!

01/29/2018 ----

Dear diary,

How are you?

I'm still the same.

I keep wondering why I keep going; it would be just easier to lie down in the tall grass and just not wake up; stay in dream land.

Some people, it seems, have a natural tendency to keep going, cheerfully whistling as they walk down this thing called life, not a care in the world.

Me; I'm an angry hissing cat with a baseball bat, swinging at those who come within striking distant.

Apparently this is against the law but damn it, you see me with baseball bat, hissing at the world and swinging said bat, you should see the warning signs and back the hell away.

Some days, I don't even get out of bed, I throw the blanket over my head and lay there; the TV blaring some informercial as I play "Fuck you world; come back another day!"

**INSERT RANDOM VIDEO HERE FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION**



I don't really want to fuck the world; not that way, I think that would be painful, awfully painful.

But who knows, tomorrow will probably change; moods seem to have that way of working out; going fast forward happily and then stopping hard; reversing course and well, hello sadness my ole friend, how are you today?

"sad!"

I'm sitting, trying to write out the negative; throw some positive to the wall to see if it sticks; it kinda does.

Hello, how are you?

I am fine, thanks for asking.

Good night my dear friend; we will speak again tomorrow!

Sunday, January 28, 2018

Before Alice Fell Down the Rabbit Hole - Chapter Two - The Great Berry Quest

Note: It was decided one day by the tea party guests that the tastiest cakes were made from the tastiest berries in all the land, ramble berries.
And the bestest cakes were dainty cakes!
“Delicious! I wish we had some now!” said the mad hatter to the guests.
“The berries grow in the great woods! We should go! A great quest!” the rabbit said, hopping madly about.
And it was decided then that it was a great idea. And so they hopped, bounced, ran, slid, and made their way to the entrance to the great woods.

“I am the mighty bear who guards the entrance to the great woods,” roared the bear as the party approached, “Who dares approaches my lair?”
“I am the Hatter!” the mad hatter laughed “And these are my friends! We are on a great quest!”
The bear roared, raising his great paws and swiping at them all.
“Be gone! I need no quests around my lair!!”
“Oh dear! We must go! We must go!” the rabbit worriedly said bouncing around “He’ll surely devour us for lunch!”
“What is your name?” the little turtle said, trying to be friendly in such a friendly way.
“Harold!” the bear roared
“What a great name for a mighty bear with such a great roar! My name is turtle.”
“Turtle? Are you joking?”
“No, I dare not joke with such a mighty bear!”
“What of this quest? Hurry, I dare not waste another minute on such a day when the salmon run!” the bear growled less rough.
“We seek the ramble berries here in the great woods for our dainty cakes!” the turtle responded, pulling slightly into his shell.
“Ramble berries? Ramble berries? All this fuss over ramble berries??” the bear paused for a second, lowering his paws. “You may pass! I love the ramble berries dainty cakes!! Shall you share with me when they are done?” the bear smiled as well as a bear can smile.
“We shall! We shall! Thank you oh mighty bear!!” the turtle said, extending out his turtle hand to shake the bear’s mighty paw.
The group kept moving down the path which wound its way through the trees, up the hills, down the mountain, over the river, where grandmother was drowning her laundry.
“Strange indeed!” said the mad hatter to the donkey.
Soon, where the ramble berries should be a group of dodos were burping.
“Where are all the berries?” the mad hatter said. “They should be here! Not these dodo birds!!”
“We eats them! We eats them! We eats them all!” the dodos burped out in unison. “Nots a berry left!!!”
The group pouted, frowned, and shook their head.
“What shall we do now?” the mouse said
“I guess we shall not have ramble berries dainty cakes this day!” the mad hatter cackled.
“What shall we tell the bear? He shall not be happy indeed!” the mouse responded.
“We shall say, ‘The dodos are over there!’ and watch as the mighty bear devours them all.” the hatter laughed and the group wandered back.

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER SUICIDE NOTE TO THE WORLD --- Fiction

Slack jaw, middle of a suicide, in that part of town, poor man's place to die, to be found, gun by the side, clenched in his hand, bottl...