Hey Joe

A little truth for your Friday Flashback

                                                  

DeTruth

Me: What ever happened to DeBarge? Wasn't he married to Janet Jackson?

Ed: That's a really sad story. He really loved her.

*crickets*

Ed: It was her family. They were afraid he was going to drag down her career.

Me: Hmmmm….*more crickets* Yea, well I guess a DeBarge can do that to you.

 

Things I did not know.

• There was more than one "DeBarge." There was Mark, James, Randy, Eldra and their sister, Bunny
• Eldra became "El" DeBarge, which I thought was the name of the group itself.
• It was James who married Janet Jackson, not "DeBarge." Had DeBarge married her they would have had to create a bonking rotation schedule. And where would Bunny have fit into the picture? On Janet's face I guess.

Things I do know

• DeBarge, El or otherwise, sucks

Originally published on January 18, 2008 in Miscellaneous Drivel

Flashback Friday

Several years ago I realized that I was a complete loser with no friends. As such, I begat a quest to remedy that little personal failing by hunting down potential pals. Tony was the first, and last, of my conquests. 

Will Blog for Friends

 

The facts:

• I'm a loser with no friends
• I'm older than most of my co-workers
• They want nothing to do with me anyway because…well see #1
• I have a blog

Up until this point I've used the POWER of this blog for the good of mankind, but no more. Today I'm using it to begin the Be Joe's Friend campaign.

During this crusade, I will turn the POWER of my blog into my personal bully pulpit, and attempt to badger various people into becoming my friend.

Why the hell not, right?

• Who pays the $4.95 to Typepad every month? Me.
• Who spends inordinate amounts of time coming up with creative chunks of flotsam for your enjoyment? Me.
• Who cries himself to sleep at night at the prospect of eating lunch alone every day? How the f*ck should I know? Certainly not me. Shut up.
• Who can use as many damn font types and bullets in his posts as he wants? Me.

So who can use his blog for whatever twisted agenda he freakin' wants?

You're damn right.

My first new "friend" will be a fellow blogger and local boy by the name of Tony Hicks. I understand he also writes a column for some local rag, but as we typically either:

1. Leave the newspaper in the driveway for weeks on end
2. Use it to protect our kitchen table during "art projects"
3. Use it to clean up Sonny's barf

I'm really not familiar with his work.

Joe's new friend --->

 

However he is local and he's generous when buying drinks, so he meets a few of the important criteria on the "Criteria to be Joe's Friend" list. The fact that he's a writer will allow us to "talk shop," in between checking out the local babes and arm wrestling.

Tony – let me know when you're free and we'll hook up and swap stories. I don't have any, so be prepared to talk. And bring your wallet.

OK, who else wants to be Joe's friend? Speak up!

 

Originally published on April 22, 2008 in My Life

Flashback Friday - A Rude Awakening

Hope I Die Before I Get Old...But not Really

 

Not to dis the elderly or anything, but this picture totally gives me the willies. Yet another of the many ads that pop up in my Yahoo mailbox. I prefer the gold-digging nymphs frankly.

Anyhoo, look at this poor thing. I just about soiled myself when this ad popped up, much like she probably did just as they snapped this picture.

Tragedy.

In other more stimulating news, I had a spontaneous orgasm today while viewing the Audrina Patridge Carl's Jr. commercial.

 

Originally published on July 02, 2009 in Miscellaneous Drivel

I never said Flashback Friday would take place every Friday.

Scallops: The Low Achiever of Shellfish

 

So it’s Sunday. Freakin’ busy day, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW. Lisa’s in charge of coordinating yet another round of some sort of government mandated testing so she’s been spending all day organizing paperwork. All very hush, hush too. Four boxes were delivered last week by some FedEx guy in dark glasses; made me sign for them and then took a DNA sample. She can’t leave them at school lest some young ruffian gets his grubby hands on a copy, which would of course set off, “Elementary-gate.” She’s also in charge of providing snacks and “awards” for the little simpletons. Can you say “not in my job description?” Well maybe it is. She did agree to do it. Regardless, all I can say is we’d better get a reimbursement check as I dropped $55 today on Capri Sun and Quaker Chewy Granola bars, and that’s not even factoring in the cost of the “prizes”.

Kids today are like a bunch of freakin' lab rats with as much testing as takes place. Just let the teachers teach for Christ’s sake and maybe kids will actually learn something. The government requires so much testing that kids hardly have any time to learn what the hell they’re being tested on. It’s testing my patience.

So in my continuing attempt to allow her free time, I whipped up a little linguine with sautéed scallops for dinner. It was pretty damn good, thank you; butter & oil, sauteed with crushed red pepper, lemon juice, various spices; some sautéed red bell pepper, big, fat, thick, meaty scallops, topped with parsley and a zesting of lemon. That’s right, this beeatch can cook when he has to. And I’m a good lay. Well, I can cook anyway. Piss off. I have to go clean the kitchen.

Originally published on March 25, 2007 in My Life  (and I have no idea what I meant with that title)

Flashback Friday - Just because it makes ME laugh.

Charitable contribution

 

Dick Hoover

1930 - 2009

OK, this is sort of a charitable celebrity death contribution, not only because I don't know who the hell he was (not that my personal knowledge of their existence is a prerequisite for inclusion), but because it's arguable as to whether or not he rates inclusion. I mean no disrespect but really, how many of us have heard of this guy? There are so called celebrities dying every day that I don't cover because their celebrity status is debatable.

Let's be reasonable. This month the slab has seen Indian actress Mrs. S. Varalakshmi, Greek handball coach, Yiannis Dimitropoulos, and American pianist, Arthur Ferrante just to name a few. Heard of them? I didn't think so. If I included every so called celebrity when would you have time to read about my sore foot and other important happenings in my life?

OK, granted, there's a good chance that most of you never heard of Gale Storm, Mickey Carroll, or Bob May, among others, but at least Gale was hot, Mickey was a midget, and Bob was a robot. Again no disrespect, but this guy was a bowler. Gross.

Anyway, he died, and my entire point for including him as a quasi-celebrity was simply to say this:

With a name like that he should have gone into gay porn instead of bowling.

Thank you – Good Night!

 

Originally published on September 23, 2009 in Celebrity Death

A Fresh Feeling Flashback Friday

Just another normal dinner conversation from your disturbed normal American family.

 

During last Monday night's dinner conversation, the boy was explaining something that took place at school that day.

Boy:       "And then he said 'Hey douche bag!'"

Me:        "Nice."

Boy:       "What's a douche bag?"

        *crickets*

        I look at Lisa.

Lisa to girl:    "Do you know?"

Girl:        "No, what is it?"

Lisa:        "Do you really want to know?"

Kids:        "Yes."

Lisa:        *Explanation ensues*

Boy:        *hysterical laughter followed by coughing fit*

Girl:        "Yeah, you didn't need to tell us."

Boy:        "Really?"

Me:        "No, it's actually Ryan Seacrest."

Kidding, but not really

Originally published on September 28, 2009 in My Life

A Friday Flashback Friday Flashback

 

Friday Flashback

The Breakfast Club, circa 1986-ish. No that's not Anthony Michael Hall on the right.

Some of my old San Francisco State gang; I don't remember the name of that gal on the far left, but the others are:

Tim, Maria, moi and skulking in the background, Mark.

This picture cracks me up. So young. And so damn skinny.

Originally published on February 13, 2009 in My Life 

 

Friday Flashback

The Breakfast Club, circa 1986-ish. No that's not Anthony Michael Hall on the right.

Some of my old San Francisco State gang; I don't remember the name of that gal on the far left, but the others are:

Tim, Maria, moi and skulking in the background, Mark.

This picture cracks me up. So young. And so damn skinny.

Flashback Friday Road Trip

I find it cute that way back when I started this blog I was actually concerned about possibly boring my readers. Now? Pfft. I still love you though.

 

On the Road in Mendocino 

We arrived in Mendocino Friday afternoon after a couple of false starts. We both took the day off so the morning was spent doing car chores. The Merc needed a smog and the Chevy a windshield gasket, boring I know, so I will bore you no further.

Once on the road I realized I’d left my FastPass in my car in plain view. This concerned me and I hung a U-E to retrieve it. Also saved me having to cough up $3 of my limited cash supply for bridge fare. Again, boring.

So, Mendocino AKA The Northern Haight, named so (by me) for its large population of wannabe hippies and “permanent dwelling challenged” individuals.  What can I say about a town that stretches maybe a ½ mile in any direction from downtown proper? It’s cute and picturesque and all that good stuff,but if I had to choose between cute, picturesque towns within a 3-hour driving distance I’d choose Carmel. I was told there wasn’t much to do,and those who told me were right.

Mendocino offers a limited number of restaurants, most of which all serve the kind of food that pisses me off:

“Salmon fillets, poached in an intense, flavorful salmon stock, drizzled with a tarragon infused apple cider vinaigrette” 

“House-made brioche tart with Swiss chard, thyme-stewed onions and Tour de Marze Brie”

Saturday night found us at Patterson's Pub on Lansing St. where I satisfied my craving for substantial, stiff-wristed fare with a cheeseburger. We also hit Capt. Flints in Ft. Bragg for some good, greasy fish n’ chips.  Are you beginning to sense that perhaps I don’t have a very refined pallet?  Not entirely true. I did enjoy the seafood fettuccine at 955 Ukiah St. Restaurant, but I felt like eating this weekend, and fancy food just doesn’t satisfy this boy’s ever-growing stomach.

That slight bitch aside I enjoyed myself very much. The Agate Cove Inn was very pretty and our cabin was clean and comfortable. We enjoyed beautiful ocean views along with freshly made omelets, juice, coffee and pumpkin chocolate chip muffins (sounds odd I know, but they were really good)

My wife, doing her best Carrie Bradshaw imitation, "couldn’t help but wonder" if the spectacular views would lose their awe and wonder if one were able to enjoy them every day. I, on the other hand, couldn’t help but wonder what it is about ocean views that make couples become all affectionate towards each other. Wherever there’s an ocean you’ll find couples with their arms around each other, gazing dreamily out to sea. Why?  You never see people embracing near a freeway over-pass, or in front of a shopping center, but put them in front of an ocean and they’re all over each other like a couple of horny octopi. But I digress.

As this is a blog I’ll end it there. I know blog readers have a very limited attention span. We had a great time. Long drive that may or may not be worth it, but I can now say “I’ve been to Mendocino.” And for that I am very proud

Originally published on February 13, 2006 

Flashback Friday

And Turn Down that Damn Music Too

 

News from Atlanta, GA is that their city council is currently sponsoring an amendment to ban baggy pants. You know, that jackass look where jackasses wear their pants half way down their jack asses in order to show off their underwear in an attempt to look…cool? Hip? Tough? Try stupid.

Perhaps it's just one more sign that I'm growing old, but this is a fad that I've never understood. Why, WHY, WHY would someone choose to adopt a look that not only makes them look fucking retarded as all get out, but that makes it nearly impossible to walk? I know, I know. It must just be me. I'm old and out of touch. I'm sorry. I admit that I have a problem.

"My name is Joe and I like pants that fit and gather comfortably about my waist."

"Hi Joe. Have a drink."

That being said, I'm not sure I'm old enough to support a law that actually bans the donning of baggy pants. It's my God given, inalienable right to look like an asshole, and who is city councilman C.T. Martin to say that I can't?

"Little children see it and want to adopt it, thinking it's the in thing," Martin said Wednesday. "I don't want young people thinking that half-dressing is the way to go. I want them to think about their future."

Amen. A future with well-fitting pants.

The ordinance would apparently also ban women from showing their thong and bra straps. Now we're just talkin' crazy. Unless of course the thong wearer has an ass the size of Michigan, in which case cover that shit up. In fact, just move that shit to one of them Dakotas.

Of course the subject of discrimination has been raised. Debbie Seagraves, executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Georgia, had this to say.

"This is a racial profiling bill that promotes and establishes a framework for an additional type of racial profiling,"

Her argument stems from the fact that this particular fashion statement began in the black youth culture, and therefore the law could not be enforced in a nondiscriminatory way.

OK, it would be a stupid law and ridiculous to enforce. I think cops have more important things to do than write tickets for sagging pants. I mean there are militant jaywalkers running amok who must be dealt with first.

But forget about race for a minute. I've seen plenty of suburban white kids adopting this look. This isn't about racism, it's about stupidism. Do we really need to start creating laws to prevent people from being stupid? I mean really, what's next, creating laws to force people to wear seatbelts and motorcycle helmets?

Anarchy is right around the corner folks, and I'm gonna cinch up my pants, grab my torch and join the first angry mob that goes by.

 

Originally published August 23, 2007 in Current Affairs

News from Atlanta, GA is that their city council is currently sponsoring an amendment to ban baggy pants. You know, that jackass look where jackasses wear their pants half way down their jack asses in order to show off their underwear in an attempt to look…cool? Hip? Tough? Try stupid.

Perhaps it's just one more sign that I'm growing old, but this is a fad that I've never understood. Why, WHY, WHY would someone choose to adopt a look that not only makes them look fucking retarded as all get out, but that makes it nearly impossible to walk? I know, I know. It must just be me. I'm old and out of touch. I'm sorry. I admit that I have a problem.

"My name is Joe and I like pants that fit and gather comfortably about my waist."

"Hi Joe. Have a drink."

That being said, I'm not sure I'm old enough to support a law that actually bans the donning of baggy pants. It's my God given, inalienable right to look like an asshole, and who is city councilman C.T. Martin to say that I can't?

"Little children see it and want to adopt it, thinking it's the in thing," Martin said Wednesday. "I don't want young people thinking that half-dressing is the way to go. I want them to think about their future."

Amen. A future with well-fitting pants.

The ordinance would apparently also ban women from showing their thong and bra straps. Now we're just talkin' crazy. Unless of course the thong wearer has an ass the size of Michigan, in which case cover that shit up. In fact, just move that shit to one of them Dakotas.

Of course the subject of discrimination has been raised. Debbie Seagraves, executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Georgia, had this to say.

"This is a racial profiling bill that promotes and establishes a framework for an additional type of racial profiling,"

Her argument stems from the fact that this particular fashion statement began in the black youth culture, and therefore the law could not be enforced in a nondiscriminatory way.

OK, it would be a stupid law and ridiculous to enforce. I think cops have more important things to do than write tickets for sagging pants. I mean there are militant jaywalkers running amok who must be dealt with first.

But forget about race for a minute. I've seen plenty of suburban white kids adopting this look. This isn't about racism, it's about stupidism. Do we really need to start creating laws to prevent people from being stupid? I mean really, what's next, creating laws to force people to wear seatbelts and motorcycle helmets?

Anarchy is right around the corner folks, and I'm gonna cinch up my pants, grab my torch and join the first angry mob that goes by.

 

A Literary Flashback Friday

The Sun Also Rises – A Revelation

 

OK, I've read this book several times and just recently I was finally able to see the movie. One scene contains the following conversation between Jake Barnes and his doctor:

Jake Barnes: Doctor, don't you think it's about time you stopped lying to me?

Army doctor: What do you want to know, Barnes?  

Jake Barnes: Am I going to be all right?

Army doctor: There'll be certain after-effects from your wound, but that's to be expected. The important thing is that the shell fragment that entered your back missed your spine, so you'll be able to walk and move about absolutely normally. However...

Jake Barnes: Go on.

Army doctor: You're going to be impotent.

Impotent? And here I always thought he got his dick blown off. HA!

 

Update: 3:00 PM, Monday

Revelation Refuted

I have since watched the DVD extras.

In one of the interviews, screenwriter, Peter Viertel reveals that during a conversation he had with Hemingway, "Papa" told him that Barnes was not impotent, but in fact, "had his cock shot off."

F*cking 1950's Hollywood, trying to make our entertainment more palatable.  

HeyJoe rewrite:

Jake Barnes: Doctor, don't you think it's about time you stopped lying to me?

Army doctor: What do you want to know, Barnes?  

Jake Barnes: Am I going to be all right?

Army doctor: There'll be certain after-effects from your wound, but that's to be expected. The important thing is that the shell fragment that entered your back missed your spine, so you'll be able to walk and move about absolutely normally. However...

Jake Barnes: Go on.

Army doctor: You're going to be impotent.

Jake Barnes: Impotent? You f*cking quack, I got my dick shot off! You call that impotent? Come here you son of a bitch, I'm going to kick the living crap out of you!

Cut –

End Scene

p.s. – read the first line on the book cover above: "Could he live without the power to love?" HA!

 

Originally published on October 13, 2008 in Books, Film, My Life

The Sun Also Rises – A Revelation

 

OK, I've read this book several times and just recently I was finally able to see the movie. One scene contains the following conversation between Jake Barnes and his doctor:

Jake Barnes: Doctor, don't you think it's about time you stopped lying to me?

Army doctor: What do you want to know, Barnes?  

Jake Barnes: Am I going to be all right?

Army doctor: There'll be certain after-effects from your wound, but that's to be expected. The important thing is that the shell fragment that entered your back missed your spine, so you'll be able to walk and move about absolutely normally. However...

Jake Barnes: Go on.

Army doctor: You're going to be impotent.

Impotent? And here I always thought he got his dick blown off. HA!

 

Update: 3:00 PM, Monday

Revelation Refuted

I have since watched the DVD extras.

In one of the interviews, screenwriter, Peter Viertel reveals that during a conversation he had with Hemingway, "Papa" told him that Barnes was not impotent, but in fact, "had his cock shot off."

F*cking 1950's Hollywood, trying to make our entertainment more palatable.  

HeyJoe rewrite:

Jake Barnes: Doctor, don't you think it's about time you stopped lying to me?

Army doctor: What do you want to know, Barnes?  

Jake Barnes: Am I going to be all right?

Army doctor: There'll be certain after-effects from your wound, but that's to be expected. The important thing is that the shell fragment that entered your back missed your spine, so you'll be able to walk and move about absolutely normally. However...

Jake Barnes: Go on.

Army doctor: You're going to be impotent.

Jake Barnes: Impotent? You f*cking quack, I got my dick shot off! You call that impotent? Come here you son of a bitch, I'm going to kick the living crap out of you!

Cut –

End Scene

p.s. – read the first line on the book cover above: "Could he live without the power to love?" HA!