¡¡¡Happy Cinco De Mayo Veinte Diecisiete!!! (and Arrested Development)

Wishing everyone a warm and fuzzy Cinco De Mayo.

Okay, lot to cover here, so time to play ketchup.   In the spirit of Mexican heritage, I’m throwing up a massive text wall.  Don’t like it?  This posting just got 2 paragraphs longer.  More than once in my life, I’ve been told that from time to time I can be mildly insensitive to other cultures and ways of life.  Bullshit, but okay.  It’s Cinco De Mayo and I’d like to make good on appreciating other cultures, so today’s song of the day is Right Now by Psy (don’t be a dick, give the song a chance, it’s good).  Much better than the golden oldies song that came on this morning where the main course is “baaa ba-ba ba-baaaaa, I knowwww you..” – if this were the Middle East, I’d get stoned if I were caught singing this to my male friends.  They’re a very literal people.

As many of you know, I’m an absolute dios when it comes to Heroes of the Storm (“HOTS” for anyone who can throw a spiral or doesn’t suffer from asthma and backne).  Back in December, before evvvverything changed when Trump was inaugurated, I went into a game as Chogall, stacking party-of-five XP bonuses on top of the holiday XP bonuses, among others.  Had my first and only 500,000+ XP game.  You better fucking believe that print screen found its way onto the watermark on my resume.  Employers dig teamwork, persistence, and originality.  I have yet to get any calls back.  Not unlike:

Anyway, back to snapping the suspenders of the Mexican people.  I recently had a game of HOTS where I was Chogall and working in close tandem with a teammate from Mexico, or Portugal, down old South America way.

Roughly translated, Sabaoth’s first two constructive messages to me are 1) Chogal, fuck you shit, and 2) I give you a whore.  It may sound border-line (ugh) adversarial, but I think we had some good communication that game, a real productive tete-a-tete.  Look a few lines up and you find the most important message.  At all costs.  Protect.  The fucking.  Healing fountain.

I’m getting lazy today and have to get back to work (“They’ve got a bus, and they want to use parking lot to this building as a meeting place.  I mean, for God’s sake, it’s not a hardware store.  We can’t have them hanging around like a bunch of freeloaders looking for an easy buck.” – Lucille Bluth).  Spent too long on my last two posts: to quote a buddy, “your latest blog has so much packed in there you’d think it was Bruce Jenner post-op.”  Biting social commentary…even in its brevity, and like the woman, it still has a lot of meat on it.

Here are my relevant Arrested Development photos for Cinco:

Two tips of the day.  1) Raspberries and diet coke: best combination you’ve ever had.  Pop a few raspberries in your mouth and take a swig of the diet coke – it’s AMAZING.  2) People like Nutella on toast (although my readership seems to be white bread).  Put 2-3 Reese’s peanut butter eggs on a toasted bagel and make a sandwich of it, it’s INCREDIBLE.  Bonus recommendation from my cigarette-smoking-man/friend: chew on Icebreakers mints while smoking cigarettes – better tasting than menthol cigarettes.  I must admit that I’ve had my share of cigarettes in my day, but after watching Hans Landa in the following, I’m never putting another wimpy-ass f*g in my mouth again:

Alright, time for me to get back to HOTS before this American Health Care Act beats a path through the senate floor.  My go-to character, Chogall, has a bit of a limp and I’m worried about playing him with his preexisting condition.

Ohio is for Lovers…and Crippling Economic Realities

It’s not often you get to drive through Ohio and bear witness to humanity’s shortcomings.  Who drives through Ohio.  But when you do make it to the state that’s fatter and not nearly as tall as you think, the experiences stick with you like Cleveland and it’s crippling 40 year recession.  However, to begin, one must admit that Ohio does have some interesting shit, namely food.  Last night I ate at Melt Bar and Grilled and enjoyed the Wet Hot Buffalo Chicken:

Oh my gosh, this is one of the best sandwiches I’ve had.  But like any good high, there’s an equivalent low not far behind it.  This morning, I woke up, made it 30 feet to the bathroom in about 4 steps, slammed the “Play Like a Champion Today” sign above my bathroom door, and mounted the throne with unapologetic fury.  What was to come is for my private enjoyment only.  However, I’ll note that you would not be wrong to make the comparison to Moses parting the Red Sea.  Don’t drink the water in Lake Erie for a while.

I’ve always felt that the great people of Ohio suffer from bouts of hubris, although not NEARLY to the same extent as Bostononians.  Fuck you, Boston.  Your city is tiny, your infrastructure sucks, your welfare system is in disarray, your reliance on sports is laughable, and your loss in prominence to New York brings me boundless joy.  You did this to yourself.  Anyway, the whole “O-H…I-OOOOO” thing has to be stopped.  You’re tying your self importance to a FUCKING PUBLIC COLLEGE SPORTS TEAM.  Don’t you have anything else on which to hang your hat?…

Well, add insult to injury because I came across the following the other day:




The people (and unfortunately, voters) of this state manage to find a new way to embarrass themselves each time I visit.  It’s like they’ve hidden an RFID tag on my car and each time I enter beneath the:


the citizens of the state jump in a group chat and figure out how they’re going to humiliate themselves next.  When they’re not shaming themselves, they’re abusing the welfare system like it’s NBD.  Here’s a guy on a rather unique vehicle that had a handicap sticker:


I don’t know about you, but the handicapped people I know tend to not throttle around on the back of a motorcycle in a leather jacket and matching boots.

OH SNAP!!!!  I nearly forgot.  Fuck me, I’m always forgetting to celebrate feminism on this blog.  First the woman’s march, then the woman’s strike, and now this:


They’re called secretaries.  Get it right or pay the price (HUGE throwback to Salute Your Shorts from the early nineties here; I expect a handjob from at least a few of you after making this connection).  Speaking of bad names:

What do we have here?  We have an article on a state senator named Frank Artiles (aka Fart Projectiles) written by a undoubtedly blonde-haired Hitler youth who got her “degree” in journalism from Camp Flowers.  Keep student debt levels exceedingly high, major in journalism.

Thought I bumped into Kurt Russell last night:



Before I forget, to all my bad hombres in finance who’ve begun to create the next generation of financiers, there’s a Powerwheels-like Rolls Royce that you need to get your children, now.  Don’t let your children fall behind in this new global economy.  Buy them the Rolls, forbid them from anything to do with journalism or Boston.  They’ll be better people for it.



And finally, we arrive at the end of this aimless rant.  Arrested Development.  Likely a hair above (Stan Sitwell’s always had a wild hair to buy this business, it’s the only hair he’s got…what, he’s an alpaca!) Seinfeld, and on equivalent ground with the original (but revised format) British Top Gear.  Here’s an Arrested Development reference you’ll all appreciate:


“Your father says he wants me to go all the way to Fallujah.  I thought he meant the sex act, that’s so popular with your generation” – Lucille Bluth

Hot Sauce, Home Eats, and Hymens (and Arrested Development)

Bitch, please…  I’ve wanted to say that all day.  You all need to go out and buy this Walkerswood Jonkanoo Seriously Hot Jamaican Pepper Sauce.  Pretty hot at first but as you get half way through the bottle on day two or three, you’ll get used to it and fall in love.

Last night, I used some of this stuff on the following dish made with frozen chicken breast, lasagna-style pasta, frozen veggies, yellow mustard, and the hot sauce.  Sprinkled with excessive amounts of oregano because that’s how we do in high finance.  See photo below:

And with this dish, I graduate from “cook” to “chef.”  I don’t mind if my readers steal my recipe, although I am accepting gratuities via Venmo.  Hit me up, bro.

Oh!  I promised you a hymen reference:

Does anyone else share my concern that if we don’t heed Hyman’s prophetic warnings, we risk a messy blowup in an Eastern Asian society already short on Hymans?  Or would someone like to take the other side of the argument and tear Hyman a new one?  You know what they say, there’s only one rule in finance: buy when there’s blood on the sheets.  Period.

Was in Los Angeles last weekend where I believe they recently legalized Mary Jane.  During my visit, I took an Uber from an hombre with the following name:

I knew California had a massive problem with Dro coming over the boarder…  Dro over the boarder begets more Dro over the boarder.  #MAGA (although seriously, Trump is just an assclown in shit eater’s clothing).  I also spotted this car while in Los Angeles:

Best. Car. Ever.  Makes me want to go home and watch Blues Brothers rather than sit here at the office and procrastinate on the blog, musing about cheap eats and attacking Hyman while I daydream about…attacking Hymen.

Oh snap!  I nearly forgot about the Arrested Development quote I found today:

And the reference:

It’s not like I’m saying I KILLED EARL MILFORD.

And I leave you with a memorandum for a company we considered buying for all of two minutes.  Something doesn’t seem quite right with the data in the below:

And it seems the management team really, really, really likes men:

Song of the Day (3/18/2017)

Yo-hooooooo!!!!!  Happy St. Patrick’s day to all of you who like to think you have some Irish blood.  Perhaps one day Ireland will be relevant on the world stage and you can be proud of that ancestry.  For the time being, let’s just douse that jingoism with shitty Irish beer and have the Irish Catholic Church bury it with their other…doings.

Anyway, no reason we can’t celebrate.  Today’s first song of the day is Kiss Me, I’m Shitfaced my Dropkick Murphys.

Today’s second song of the day is a MAJOR shoutout to my homies in finance.  It’s CFTC (Babysit Me) by R.S. Featuring L Reece.  Today’s second song of the day is brought to you by economic and financial ignorance:

#AuditTheFed

And finally, I was on Yelp this morning, looking for restaurants that accept dogs.  Yelp has literally 20+ fucking filter options, INCLUDING THE BELOW, BUT ZERO FOR PET FRIENDLY.

I’m all for equality.  But what the fuck – no pet friendly filter?  Reagannnnnn (aka Shane), COME BACKKKKKK!!!!!!!  COME BACK, REAGANNN!!!!

Song of the Day (3/16/2017)

Sitting here between the Ides of March and St. Patrick’s day, and I’m not happy about being sandwiched between a Greek and an Irishman.  I feel like I’m in a hairy, sloppy threesome and the only way to escape is to shave my way out past the Greek.

Today’s song of the day is Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay.  A more recent song and artist than the usual but carries a terrific sound.  Feeling lazy as scrotum today so let’s just add random recent photos below and call is a day, huh?  Beginning with the world’s coolest food invention since sodium-added smoked meats:

Next, I was rifling through a family member’s closet when I came across the following Hermes tie:

For those of you looking for Cinco de Mayo gifts, this is the bees’ knees.  Also goes well with Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns.

Received an acquisition opportunity a couple of weeks ago and was flipping through the memorandum and came across this little guy:

Oops!  And finally, the best marketing strategy I’ve ever seen:

That’s it for me today.  Apologies for the blatantly lazy post.  Hope you enjoy the song.  A quote to think about the next time you’re secretly rushing a plunger from the upstairs washroom to the downstairs washroom at your girlfriend’s parent’s house with hopes of not arousing curious glances from the parents:

“Every time you clog a toilet, you’ve exceeded someone’s expectations” 

Song of the Day (2/21/2017)…and Arrested Development…and more

Today’s song of the day is Wait So Long by Trampled by Turtles.  Fuck it, last week I watched the new and original Magnificent Seven and holy cow were they spectacular.  So, with that, allow me to ROCK YOUR SOCKS with The Magnificent Seven theme song.  Best.  Theme song.  Ever.

Came across the following advertisement for something called Loverboy…

And it immediately reminded me of Lucille and Baby Buster (yo quiro lecheeeee) in Mother Boy:

And finally, some words of wisdom.  You can save money on bleach by not buying white underwear.

Came across this house name on a college campus a week ago:

That’s Ronald Ragin’.  Reagan be praised.

Well, back to the grind.  P.S.  Go out and get yourself bacon salt flavored sunflower seeds.  Your tongue will thank you…although the morning after hotbox in the shower can be debilitating.

Chicken Pancakes and Rocket League

Just a quick idea for those getting back at 1am and in need of some tasty protein (I’ll let this one go…).  Cook frozen, skinless boneless chicken tits in the pot on medium in vegetable oil and cover for twenty five minutes, flipping occasionally.  Then, cut the chicken now that it’s unfrozen and cut into tiny pieces.  It’s 1am and you’re home alone, cooking chicken and pancakes…so for the second time tonight, confirm you’re not seeing any “pink” and when you do, pour the pancake batter (mixed with water and more vegetable oil) into the pot around the chicken.  Cook for two to three minutes, flip, douse with salt and oregano, cook for another two minutes and voila, you got yourself a tasty, lazy-ass midnight treat.  Serve with hot sauce, mustard, or maple syrup.

Preparation phase:

Final product:

Further preparation:

And finally, because what’s a post without a shoutout to Rocket League and xBone Live, came across the following player this week and absolutely loved the name: