Leaders need to eat

Looks like a corn on the cob

Kittens are tasty

Your turn.  Post a haiku in the comment section.

I had a friend in high school who my mom hated.  She never forbid me from hanging out with him, she just strongly discouraged it.

Mom was right.

Thanks to Facebook, I caught up with my buddy for the first time in years.  Pretty much a train wreck.

Listen to you mom.  She’s wiser than you think.

Oh, and Joe The Plumber (just thought it was time to say that).

A game-changing Halloween costume.  You’re welcome.

Cowboy hat, Darth Vader mask, flannel long sleeved shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, six string acoustic guitar=Darth Brooks.

3 weeks to the night is when our country will participate in the most historic election ever.  And yet, I still find it odd this guy hasn’t taken a stab at the presidency…

Womanizer-Director’s cut.

She’s nekkid.

• I give you women a ton of credit.  We wore heels Saturday for 98 PXY’s “Walk a Mile In Her Shoes.”  I don’t know how/why you would put yourself through that kind of torture.  By all means, don’t EVER feel like you need to wear heels to impress me.  I’ve got blisters within my blisters and my calves feel like they were assaulted with a 2×4.  Check the video on Sandy’s blog here.

• Props to a major fast food chain which will remain nameless.  We went to a location on West Ridge Road because Leah wanted a toy with her lunch.  WOW!  I didn’t know if I should eat lunch or pull up a chair and work on my Apple laptop.  They have transformed this restaurant into, what felt like, a Starbucks.

• Sandy is cheap.  I have accepted this.  Maybe you heard about this on the show this morning.  We went to a pumpkin patch so our daughter could make a memory.  Only thing is when it came time to pay for that memory, Sandy squashed it.  I don’t know, maybe I’m an idiot, but I’ll PAY for an experience.  In this case the experience of picking out the perfect Halloween pumpkin.  I don’t think you get the same kind of memory picking out a pumpkin at say…Aldi.  Again, maybe it’s me.

• It’s official.  I hate mowing our lawn.  I used to say I would never get a riding mower.  Well, after spending over 4 hours working on it on Saturday, I’m shifting.  I mean, really?  4 hours of my weekend MOWING?

• Sandy and I got to go out to dinner by ourselves Saturday night.  The only reason we got to go out for dinner was because Sandy had a gift certificate (see point 3).  The median age of the place we went to had to be around 83.  Wow, were we out of place.  Nothing but old, rich people talking about how much money they made in the past, and what they used to pay for a housekeeper.  The best part of the night was the waiter chasing after us as we walked out because I forgot to sign the bill.  My bad.

• The Chicago Bears have the ability to completely ruin my day.

• My Fantasy Football team has the ability to ease some of the pain.  That, and beer.

I may come across as insensitive for a second here, but I don’t care.

The fact is I consider myself tolerant when it comes to Rochester’s homeless population.  I am sympathetic to a point.  And if I cross paths with a creative homeless individual, such as:

See also:

I might actually give up a buck.  I know times are tough.  Everyone is feeling the crunch of our economic crisis.  All that being said, what happened to me at lunch yesterday crosses the line and I have to share it with you.

One of my buddies needed to pay up on a bet we made through our Fantasy Football league.  Side note:  My team is still undefeated.  I may not lose a single game this year.  The terms of the bet were simple.  If he won, I would have had to buy him a delicious burrito for lunch.

We’re standing at the bar/counter, waiting for our food, and discussing guy stuff, when this guy walks in.  For a second I thought he may have actually been a patron.  Then he came over and stood by us.

He didn’t really say anything at first.  He just stood there.  Almost as if he wanted us to feel obligated to buy him some chips and guacamole.

So he’s just standing there making us all feel uncomfortable, and I start to prod a little.

“What’s up?”  “Do you need something?”  “Can we help you?”

These are questions that all came out of my mouth.  Now, if he would have answered by asking for a quarter, a dollar, or a chimichanga, I may have felt generous enough to help out a crack-head who’s down on his luck.  But that didn’t happen.

This was a homeless guy who didn’t know how to be a homeless guy.

After a few minutes of him trying to make friendly with us, while not asking us for anything, I finally bite.  “Dude, what’s your name?”, I ask.

His answer will remain legendary for years to come.

He pauses…looks at me sideways as if I asked him to solve a difficult math equation…pauses some more, and comes up with…

“Big Cheese”

Well, that set us off.  We all start asking to see Big Cheese’s I.D., because somehow we don’t believe that’s his real name.  I mean, think about it.  This guy didn’t do a single thing right to try and panhandle us.  And to top it off he’s a liar, and a bad one at that!

Again, I try to be sympathetic.  I try to think that if I help out a homeless person they aren’t going to blow it on drugs or booze.  Well, after Big Cheese, I am convinced.  They only want my money for booze or drugs.

So, Big Cheese continues to hang around until our food arrives.  I have absolutely no intention of eating my succulent burrito with Big Cheese staring at me.  At this point, he still hasn’t asked us for anything, and I am getting more aggravated by the second.  I finally snap, “Look, Big Cheese, do you need something? Because we’re just trying to enjoy our lunch.”

Big Cheese looks at me like he wants to do something, but doesn’t.  He turns and walks out.  I am shaking with anger.  Not just because my burrito experience had been tainted, but because I expected more out of Big Cheese.

I mean, when you are Big Cheese I’ve gotta think you can walk in to Xerox and demand an interview for the C.E.O. position.  That is the kind of tenacity that makes Big Cheese…well, Big Cheese.  But we did not see that.  Not today.  Big Cheese was clearly having an “off” day.

Maybe next time, Big Cheese.  Just maybe.

If you had purchased $1,000 of shares in Delta Airlines one year ago, you will have $49.00 today.

If you had purchased $1,000 of shares in AIG one year ago, you will have $33.00 today.

If you had purchased $1,000 of shares in Lehman Brothers one year ago, you will have $0.00 today.

But, if you had purchased $1,000 worth of beer one year ago, drank all the beer, then turned in the aluminum cans for recycling refund, you will have received a $214.00.

Based on the above, the best current investment plan is to drink heavily & recycle.

A recent study found that the average American walks about 900 miles a year.

Another study found that Americans drink, on average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.

That means that, on average, Americans get about 41 miles to the gallon.

*sheds tear* I am so proud.

I didn’t watch a lot of American Idol this past season.  I am aware that the two finalists were both named David.  There was the winner, Cook, and the runner-up, Archuleta.

Every time I play his hit “Crush”, I’ve been racking my brain, thinking about who he reminds me of.

Yesterday, it hit me.

David Archuleta is the Rick Astley of the new millenium.  David would never give you up, let you down, run around and desert you.  David would never make you cry, say goodbye, or tell a lie and hurt you.

It’s a shame his name is David.  David-roll just doesn’t have a nice ring to it.

Like you, I have had instances behind the wheel where I lose my cool, shout an obscenity, wail on the horn, or share a finger gesture.  Some people are distracted, tired, or just plain stupid while they are driving.  One thing I haven’t done, however, is get out and bang on someones window.  You know what I’m talking about?

What could happen that would make someone so mad they have to roll up on you and bang on your window?

Once while I was in high school, I went to the movies with three of my friends.  My buddy, who was behind the wheel, kind of cut someone off.  Well, this car started to tailgate us.   We sped up and tried to shake him, but he followed us…EVERYWHERE.  After about 20 minutes of trying to get him to stop following us, we finally drove back to my friends house.  We pulled into the garage, only to have the car behind us pull up as well.  The other driver got out, and in my friends garage no less, tried to pull my buddy out of the drivers seat!  If he wasn’t wearing his seat belt, I’m sure a beating would have occurred.  As it turns out, this guy followed us because he thought we gave him the finger (we didn’t).  But he was so pissed, he spent a good chunk of his night following us just to make a point.

Do you know anyone who would take their road rage this far?

I’ll never forget that incident.  One thing I know is, if I ever want to take out my frustrations when I am behind the wheel, a high schooler with a new drivers license is an easy target.