It’s one of those times. I read a bunch of news. I zipped through the blogroll. I stared at the screen a while, and I now am prepared to concede that I cannot think of an interesting or amusing thing to write that could be done with what little energy I have at the end of a busy week. I’ve decided that what I really want to do is to sit back, fire up a CAO Gold Corona and stare into the tube. Maybe I’ll be inspired later.

So, with that, I leave you with Girls with Hearses. No kidding. Girls with Hearses. I have to believe that the author of the site is a big fan of the Claire Fisher character from HBO’s “Six Feet Under.”

Later.

via Everlasting Blort

I was reading DynamoBuzz, another Jersey Blog, and I learned that, as of this coming Monday, New Jersey will finally have a state fruit. It is the highbush blueberry. The absence of a state fruit was brought to the attention of the governor by a fourth grade class at Veterans’ Memorial Elementary School.

I had no idea that New Jersey has gone all this time without having a state fruit. That’s a damned shame. After all, we have the following other state “stuff”:

State Bird: Eastern Goldfinch

State Mammal: Horse

State Insect: Honey bee (Why this not the mosquito, I have no idea.)

State Shell: Knobbed whelk

State Flower: Purple violet

State Fish: Brook trout

State tree: Northern red oak

State song: “I’m from New Jersey” (clever title, no?)

State dinosaur: Hydrosaurus foulkii

State folk dance: Square dance (huh?)

I would like to make a few proposals for more New Jersey state “stuff”

State monument: The toll booth

State delicacy: Taylor Ham

State deity: Sinatra

State disgrace: Robert Torricelli

State pastime: Sitting in traffic

State motto: “Yo, asshole!”

State fragrance: Exxon

State fictional mobster: Tony Soprano

State real mobster: Impossible to pick just one

Click here and here to learn your state’s stuff. You might be surprised.

Slivovitz a/k/a plum brandy is most often made in places like Yugoslavia, Poland, Hungary and Israel. I’ve seen it range in colors from crystal clear, to having a slight greenish color, to being almost amber.

While “plum brandy” might sound like something your Great Aunt Tessie might drag out of the closet, dust off, and sip to “break up a chest cold,” I assure that Slivovitz is some serious shit. At 100+proof, the stuff is like rocket fuel. I’ve seen some pretty tough drinkers get flattened by Slivovitz.

In fact, many years ago, I found myself in a toe-to-toe friendly debate with a recently discharged swabbie, who fashioned himself quite the drinker. He said that there was no way that a “military intelligence puke” (that would be me) could keep up with him. Being damned near as young as he was, and being just about as stupid, I accepted his challenge and asked the good brother if he had ever tried Slivovitz, as I just happened to have a new bottle handy.

He responded, “No, but if it’s booze, let’s go.” At that moment, I knew that his fate was sealed.

About 45 minutes (and the better part of the bottle) later, I was bleary-eyed, but Popeye was out in the back yard fertilizing the bushes with the contents of his stomach, just before he passed out on the grass.

The poor bastard had no idea what he was getting into.

Like I said, Slivovitz is some serious shit.

Dancing Hillary. Funny stuff.

via Cousin Jack

Thanks to Dax Montana, I now know where dead, moribund, resting, and missing blogs can be found. I learn something every day. As Dax would say, “Just Damn!”

Who cares?

MTpolitics, normally found here is having server problems, and the site’s proprietor, Craig, will be out of town this week and unable to fix it until his return. Fear not, for, in the interim, he is using a BlogSpot site, which can be found here.

It is time to take a serious look at our involvement there. Every day there are news reports about more deaths. Every night on the TV we see death and destruction. Why are we still there?

The land is too large to secure all of it. The people causing this death, damage, and destruction can roam anywhere, and we can’t possibly police the whole place. Why are we still there?

We occupied this land, which we had to take by force, but it causes us nothing but trouble. Why are we still there?

Their government is unstable, and in the process of changing. Why are we still there?

Refugees are fleeing by the thousands, driven from their homes. Why are we still there?

It will cost billions to rebuild, which we can’t afford. Why are we still there?

There are more than 1,000 religious sects. We can’t secure the borders to protect against waves of insurgents. Why are we still there?

And to repeat: Every day we hear of more Americans killed in this dangerous land.

It is clear. We should get out of California.

Thanks to my friend Brian, an Air Force Vet, and resident of the great state of Kally-foah-nya.

Fortunately for us, .Mrs.. Straight White Guy leaned on Eric (that would be Mr. Straight White Guy) to give Tom Waits a listen, which he dutifully did, and which he shares with us here. Mrs. Straight White Guy knows whereof she speaks, for in order to appreciate Tom Waits (the composer of one of my faves, “Jersey Girl,”) one must listen to him. It is definitely not background music.

Eric points out that the lyrics of the above tune are similar to something that one might expect from LeeAnn, and I don’t disagree. However, the thought of LeeAnn and Tom Waits writing lyrics together boggles the farookin’ mind.

So, go listen, already.

Sam Adams Utopias MMII
A Steal at $200.00 per Bottle
Yesterday, I took a ride over to one of my favorite liquor stores, which is a supermarket-sized place that sells nothing but liquor, wine and beer (and also has a fair cigar selection). In short, definitely my kinda place. The vodka selection alone takes up approximately 2/3 of the average sized supermarket aisle! But I digress.

While there, I took a peek at the high-end stuff that is kept refrigerated under lock and key. Predictably the locked cooler contains mostly Champagnes (there is a separate lockup for high-end things that don’t need to be refrigerated, particularly those that apparently are popular with shoplifters). Anyway, I saw the bottle pictured above and marveled at the idea of a bottle of beer costing $200.00.

When I arrived home, I searched for this expensive bottle of suds on the net in order to learn a bit more about it. I found it here, but the price was not $200.00, but rather was $499.00 a bottle!! Holy Budweiser, Batman!! That’s almost five hundred bucks for a bottle of beer, albeit very fancy schmancy beer. Here is the seller’s description of what must the nectar of the Beer Gods:

At $200.00 per bottle, I probably should run back to the store and buy a case of the stuff. On second thought, that would be a pretty pricey investment, and an “investment” it would have to be, because, as much as I believe that life is too short to drink cheap whiskey or beer, I think I might choke drinking a case of beer at two hundred (or five hundred!) bucks a bottle (even if it does contain “Hallertau Mittelfrueh, Tettnang Tettnanger, Spalt Spalter and Czech Saaz” hops).

I think what I’ll do is go back to the store, explain to the guy that I am an upscale lush and ask the if I could get a small brown bag with the bottle so that I could drink it in the parking lot.