Friday Homestretch/AFTP
“So quiet you could hear a church mouse pissing on a cotton ball.” -John Gotti Jr
Volumes down almost 20% today, and not a whole lot I want to talk about.
Scratch that… There is a ton I want to talk about, but as usual it is maybe 1200 words worth of absolutely random shit that does not pertain to the market in any shape or form.
I was out of pocket all day yesterday. I did that food tour with Chaps and Kate, and then I wound up at Irving Plaza for a corporate event. Not sure which of those things inflicted more gastrointestinal damage, but I have been shitting shoestrings all day.
I assume there has been/will be a fair amount of chatter on the mothership about last night’s Pup Punk concert. I will say briefly that I was pleasantly surprised with just how good those 4 guys sounded, people from the office were somewhat-pleasantly surprised that I actually went, and (to no one’s surprise) I got very drunk.
Got home just after 3AM, got up at 5, and ran into NYC to do radio this morning with Willie Colon. I had every intention of staying in the office and typing for the rest of the day, but the place looked like a scene from the Walking Dead, so I got the fuck out of Dodge, and I am now back at home.
Brought my wife last night. Partially because I love that bitch, but equally because she has no problem designated driving me to and from NYC. The last corporate event I took her to required a jacket and tie, and it ended with a silent auction. This one just required that you wear shoes, and ended with me almost taking ecstasy.
On our way back to NJ, we were stopped outside of the Lincoln Tunnel at a DUI checkpoint. A young cop leaned into my wife’s window and asked if she was drinking. She told him she nursed 2 beers over the past 4 hours while we were at a concert.
The cop then looked past my bride, and asked me, “And were you drinking, sir?”
I answered, “Oh, yes. In fact, I have been drinking all day, officer.”
He then said, “But you’re also comfortable saying your wife was NOT drinking…Correct?”
And I answered again, “It’s why I married her.”
“Please step out of the car.”
So my wife took a Breathalyzer, and she passed with flying colors.
We sped away, and I wanted to crank the radio up loud as we blew by those bitch-ass cops who tried to lock us down, so I rolled down the windows and cranked the knob on my Benzi Box all the way up.
Only issue was that George Michael’s “Monkey” was playing on the radio at the time (must’ve switched to my “Shower Mix”), so I really didn’t hammer home the whole “fuck da police” vibe I was shooting for.
What else?
I am going to write about the Brooklyn Food Tour thing early next week. Chaps and Kate are also going to blog their experience, but you know mine will be better, right fellas? And I think I am going to be on a podcast called “Podfathers” later next week.
The radio thing has been pretty cool. I am just filling in for either Francis or Willie on random days, so will continue to give you guys a heads up in “Programming Notes” hidden within my content. Pretty sure my next morning show will be Tuesday, and I think Dave is back doing radio from Nantucket, so Clancy probably won’t need me to do afternoon shows.
I missed the fact that it was Bill Cosby’s 81st birthday yesterday. He used to be everyone’s favorite TV dad, and now he is everyone’s least favorite African-American. I used to think my least favorite black guy was OJ, but The Coz has been accused by 51 women of rape, drug-facilitated sexual assault, sexual battery, child sexual abuse, and sexual misconduct. The Juice just chopped off his ex-wife’s head, and we all kinda been there, right again fellas?
I like wishing douchebag celebs a HBD, because even rapists and murderers need a little love. And I have no fear that Bill might read this, because I believe that rapey cocksucker is now officially blind.
Another historical milestone- One hundred and forty three years ago, Malone’s Malt House on Chamber Street in Dublin, where some 5,000 barrels of whiskey were being stored, caught on fire. According to The Irish Times (which is similar to the New York Times except they use the word “cunt” more often)- The fire spread quickly. As the flames reached the wooden casks holding the liquor, they burst open, sending a burning river of whiskey flowing through the streets. The flow measured 2ft wide, 6 inches deep and stretched more than 400m down one side of Mill Street. Local residents were desperate to scoop up the liquor as it flowed from the burning premises, and disgusting as it may seem, some fellows were observed to take off their boots and use them as drinking cups.
Humor me here, because I just love stories like this. Ones where a tragedy occurs that validates an ethnic stereotype. I could conjure up similar scenarios, but I will just get myself in trouble… But rest assured one involved choking on a penny, and the other recounted the horrors of The Great Banana Avalanche of 1813.
Unfortunately, the story of The Malt House Fire ends tragically. The fire burned for nearly 3 days, and several houses and businesses caught fire as well. A total of 13 people are understood to have died as a result.
What I find amusing is that none of the deceased perished in the flames, nor did they die of smoke inhalation.
Each succumbed to alcohol poisoning from drinking “freely of the derelict whiskey”.
Fucking Micks… Am I right one last time, fellas?
MOVING ON!
It’s Friday, so, as usual, I have an Ass From The Past (AFTP). I have said it before- More nostalgic than obscene.
This week’s AFTP is a girl that was very attractive, especially her last name. Playmate of the Year in 1993, Jenny McCarthy…
Hef chose her to be a Playmate because she had a “Catholic schoolgirl charm”, and she once did a nude layout for the magazine wearing only the school sweater that she actually wore years earlier while attending Mother MacAuley High School, just outside of Chicago, IL… Which would’ve given 6th grade Large an erection you could have seen through his altar boy robe.
She went on to host a number of shows for MTV, had 1 son with her first husband, dated Jim Carrey for a while, and is now married to an Old Kid On The Block (apologies, Donny, that was low hanging fruit).
Her younger sister, Amy, also posed for Playboy…
Her cousin Melissa is a very funny actress, who I hope never poses for Playboy…
Her uncle might be Mike McCarthy, coach of the Green Bay Packers…
And her great-uncle, Michael McCarthy, is an overweight blogger that needs to learn a new bar trick…
Have a good weekend, everyone.
Take a report.
-Large