Song of the Day (4/16/2017) and Arrested Development/Reagan

Happy Easter/Passover everyone!  This week, we take a moment to remember a final supper, a betrayal, and a beard (and the man beneath it) that rose from the ashes postmortem (how’s my Latin?  Do I need to go back to the Roman Catholic Church and do some boning up?).

I’m not quite sure how JC rose from the dead – he really pulled a rabbit out of his ass, and while I have never pulled a rabbit out of my own, I have definitely pulled out my fair share of hares.  Write that down.

Today’s song of the day is May we All by Florida Georgia Line.  Some easy listening for you while you’re searching for eggs, either in your backyard or in your wife.  Your Sunday is your business.

Obligatory Arrested Development references:

…dot com.

…climb that wall, homo!

This blog is looking more and more like it should just be an instagram account; however, fuck tech savvy millennials.  I was at a friend’s parents’ house a few weeks ago – the mother works as a political correspondent for Fox News (fingers crossed she gets a big payday from Bill “Fuck it, we’ll do it live” O’Reilly) – and I came across this epic shrine to Ronnie:

Next.  I walked through an estate sale yesterday and came across the best piece of marketing of all time:

Whatever happened to Amoco?  Ohhhhh, I know, it was swallowed up by BP (no joke).  I haven’t heard of BP since that big oil spill in the gulf.  Wonder what they’re up to these days

we’re sorry.

Alrighty!  Time to go eat dinner, happy Easter/Passover everyone!

(Photo above from Brooklyn last week.  As someone said, when Brooklyn is sending their people into Manhattan, they’re not sending their best).

Today’s bad taste joke of the day comes from a close family member and all around funny guy: I was at the church the other day and the Father was complaining that while the nativity scene out front was beautiful, the local youth kept on stealing the baby Jesus.  Easy fix, I told the priest that I could probably find four roman centurions to nail it down.

Stay thirsty, mis amigos. 


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 (3/25/2017)

Quick one today as I’m visiting the city of angels for the weekend.  However, great song and wanted to share with my follower(s yet?): it’s In Reverse by The War on Drugs.

Everyone have a terrific weekend!  Two great license plates from the last two weeks:

And the world’s most racist retail store, REI, displaying their black mannequins, ashy arms and all:

Oh!  And the world’s dumbest pair of shoes.  One winking and one blue eye looking backwards?  No, thank you.  The only eye I need looking backwards is Brown and winks when it damn well pleases:

Stay thirsty, my friends.  Keep those barking spiders barking.

And finally, I leave you with a thought.  Is it possible to Dutch oven yourself so bad that you give yourself a UTI?

One more thought: my significant other always complains that my showers take twice as long as hers and I suggest that it’s because I have twice the body area.  Shit, if I stretch out my bat wing, I’m in the shower for 45 minutes.

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:


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” 

Awkward Moments (2/22/2017)

Approximately five to six weeks ago, our firm won a new engagement: our client was/is a women owned business with a demanding (and absolutely baller) female CEO.  Following the kickoff meeting, I was working my ass off for this chick.

Well, a few days later, I was at home on my stairmaster, doing steps in my boxer briefs (tighter and more form fitting than most boxers).  After maybe 20 minutes of taking steps in my briefs, the tip of my dick started to burn like a mofo.  So I took my briefs off and did stairs in the nude for another 10 minutes.

But my tip was still hurting.  Even bleeding ever so slightly.  I examined my John Thomas following the workout and realized that my tip had an abrasion from rubbing against the briefs.  Uh oh!

I went to shower and YEOWWWWWWW did it hurt under the water.  Soaping my womb broom was out of the question.  Then… I tried to pee.  The burning sensation was out of this world.  Peeing would not be an option.  But, FUCK!  I’m working insane hours, living on coffee, and also taking creatine for my workouts.  As a result, during that period, I was peeing maybe every 20 – 30 minutes.  What was I going to do?  The pain was unbearable and I couldn’t even get a trickle going without excruciating pain.  I manned up (or not…), and held it in for as long as possible.  Went two, maybe three hours before I couldn’t hold it any longer.  Bit the bullet, went to the washroom and opened the shower curtain, grabbed my clam hammer, and released into the shower, knowing full well I wouldn’t have any aim control.  The pain was remarkable.

In the hours and two days following the incident, I stopped drinking all liquids and cycled off the creating briefly.  It was hard to not caffeinate while working such strenuous hours for this demanding female business owner and CEO, but my skin flute needed the time off.

In short (and this is the moral of the story), I started working for a woman and immediately my penis stopped working.

Two days later, my yogurt slinger was back to normal (I’m happy to report that 7 days a week, that squeaky wheel gets the grease) and my work/life balance was back to the usual: wake up in the morning, window shades up, focus on work, drink a coffee, window shades down, fire up Heroes of the Storm.  Rinse.  And.  Repeat.