This is news?

So apparently the McRib is "BAAAAAAAACK!"  Funny how I always see this, yet never notice when it goes away...  So sorry Mr. McDonalds, I guess I have more important things to worry about.

--finn

Don't Laugh

Is there a greater joy in this world than the desire to laugh when it is entirely inappropriate?  Stifling laughter is just one of the most impossible yet wonderfully excruciating things a human being can endure.  It occurs at a time when you're with friends or at the very least like minded friendly people, so that's always good.  And then the moment of release, when the levee breaks, is so satisfying (well, most of the time).  I will never forget the time I became friends with a kid in high school named Brian.  We had been "friends" before but on this day in shop class, it locked us up.  We walk into the room and there is a substitute teacher and his nose.  I mention them separately because this guys honker needed its own introduction.  (I might as well just say now that I am going to run the gamut in the next few sentences of euphemisms for big noses, this bit really doesn't work without it, so my apologies if I offend).  You know the old saying the gorilla in the room or elephant in the room, I don't know which you prefer but nonetheless there is a big thing in the room and everybody knows it but is supposed to ignore it somehow?  Well, this guy had an appendage that when he turned around you were tempted to duck.  I'm not kidding, you could land a helicopter on this thing!  So the guy has this look on his face that just screams 'I know you're looking at my nose and I don't like it' thing going on and no one will look at him.  And the room is eerily silent.  For me, I am trying so hard not to laugh at the awkwardness of the situation I stare at the table in front of me.  These tables are 8' X 8' shop tables at which four of us sit at the various corners and Brian and I would normally look directly at one another.  Not today however, today we are both looking down.  The silence is deafening.  All we could hear is this guy breathing.  Now think about that last sentence for a moment.  Yes, we could HEAR HIM BREATHE!!  I'm giggling right now at the very thought.  (my goodness am I dragging this story out or what?)  My 14 year old self is currently biting the inside of my mouth to keep from bursting out in laughter.  I decide to look up and notice everyone is uncomfortable... with the exception of Brian who is in the same boat as me, we immediately look down after momentarily noticing each others predicament.  Meanwhile, the teacher begins role call in one of the most nasally but deep voices I can't even begin to describe.  Well, here's the math at this point: nose + voice = potential explosion.  I am shaking trying to hold it in.  I can't look at Brian because he's shaking too.  And the alphabetical list of names is coming ever closer to mine.  Brian's is much more toward the end.  All I have to do is squeak out a normal everyday "here" without exploding.  Which at this point is IMPOSSIBLE.  The closer my name comes the harder I shake, but then the teacher notices the movement and stands directly behind me, looming over me with that cavernous precipice.  Then Mr. Snuffleupagus says "Is there something humorous?"  Brian and I fall about the room laughing uncontrollably.  "Perhaps you would like to tell Mr. Webster what you find so funny?"  Mr. Webster of course being the principal.  Being the brutally honest person I am, I told Mr. Webster the story.  Which was great because he himself had trouble holding in a laugh and that made my day.  So what was he going to do, put me in detention for laughing?  (a logic point I made sure was not lost on him).  So he sent me to the library for the rest of the hour.  Which brings me to one of the most luscious forms of funny, unintentional comedy.  Love it, love it, love it.  (but that's another post altogether) And if you know what I'm talking about then you've been in countless situations where the same thing has happened to you.  Treasure those moments.  They can be so rare.  

--finn

The Nacho Chip Factor

Today I matched wits with a manager of a Taco Bell in London, KY.  Now come on don't look at me like that, he had it coming.  All I wanted was to ask politely if there was the potential of swapping my cinnamon twists in my Big Bell Box for some nachos (a swap my local Taco Bell has no issue with, in fact, it was their idea and now I've grown accustomed to it and speaking of my local Taco Bell, I don't even like those people and I blame them for talking me into the Triple B meal in the first place (somebody get marketing on the phone, that's good stuff, I mean come on, Triple B meal!!?  That was right off the top of my head.  LOVE IT) in the first place when I know I'm not going to eat all that food and if I did somehow pull it off its going to wreck me for the rest of the day).  Well I was barely in my third word of the sentence when he started shaking his head as to the negative.  Which got my gander up as they say.  (you know I have to be honest, I don't know if anybody says that.  I don't know who, if anyone, would ever say it.  I don't even know what my gander is and maybe it should never be up as it were.  This is really not something for me to decide, I think I shall just keep my gander... ummm what?  down?  errrr, STANDARD, shall we say, for the rest of my life.  Sorry about all the gander folks!)  Where was I?  Oh yeah, dude didn't even have the full question and he's already shaking his head.  He said he, and I quote, "cannot" do it.  Cannot.  So since the line was moving slowly, I decided to counter, "well you could but you are choosing not to, and I can respect that."  The reply "sir, I cannot and you need to understand that if I do that there is no way for us to make an accounting for the chips."  I could have left that alone, but I CHOSE not to.  I said, "there is actually nothing true about that statement.  I do not need to understand and I highly doubt there is so much accounting in the Taco Bell world that you would need to count your chips or something like that."  And with the most condescending smile he could muster so as to suggest how truly ignorant I was,  this guy says,  "oh yes we do."  So now I'm apparently dealing with the CEO of Southeastern Taco Operations and I didn't know it.  So I said, "Listen, there Mr. Greenspan (ok, I didn't but I probably should have) are you seriously inferring here that your chip supply is under such tight control that a bag of them would upset the levels of sanity to such a degree that this fine establishment would go under from the sheer weight of such a transgression?"  (Ok, I didn't but I probably should have.)  The end of the story is this:  I traded barbs with the guy for a few minutes and at the end, I went outside to "enjoy" my meal and low and behold, there was a bag of nachos in there.  Now here's where I hope that one of two things took place.  One, Mr. Manager decided that my logic was irrefutable and ultimately decided to say he would no longer challenge me in contests of logic, because I would clearly be the victor.  OR (and I don't know which one I like better) some dude in the back who makes the food who knows that he would be a much better manager than the putz up front due to his far superior grasp of what customer service truly is, knowing full well he will one day be not just a shift manager but perhaps even a manager of an entire region of fake mexican food establishments, overheard our conversation and just could not let me go home without my well earned chips.  That guy understands what it means to face impossible (the cannot if you will) or the choice of doing one thing or another.  That guy, if he exists, gets it.  He realizes that the only true result in giving me my desired side item was that it would make me happy.  No banks would close down, the food service industry wouldn't need a multi-million dollar bail out.  No adverse affects to the ozone layer would take place.  And certainly the bean couters at Taco Bell would never so much as notice.  And it all boiled down to the fact that my man quite simply did not want to give me nachos.  And we all knew it.  And what is truly sad is his explanation probably is the end of it for 99% of humanity.  Most would give up and not push any further.  Most would go "oh, ok" and go about eating their fully flavored, yet nutritionally inept offerings without so much as a "why not?"  Now, I'm not so much of a nerd as to be able to tell you the exact thing that Yoda said about this but I remember him saying something to a whiny, pansy Luke Skywalker something along the lines that always it was with him (you know how Yoda talked) was what was not possible, when truly it was.  Don't try, just do, or something like that, you know where I'm going with this.  Really we are only bound to the extent by which we are willing to deal with the consequences of making the potentially wrong choice.  He was not physically incapable of getting me the chips (as much as he would like me to believe it was true) and the world as we know it would indeed go by quite unchanged if there were a sudden disturbance in the nacho chip/cinnamon twist continuum.  And after all of this, I am left with one totally inescapable conclusion on this matter, and that is this:  Yoda would make one fine Taco Bell Manager...

--finn

Keep it Real...

Today a truck driving in front of me kicked up an empty bag of Garden Salsa Sun Chips (my favorite Sun Chip so I noticed right away) and it blew past me as if no one cared where it would eventually land...  Unless its in some guys yard at which point he'll probably dispose of it in a fairly ignominious fashion.  So that got me thinking... What is it with the chicks and the shaving off their eyebrows and drawing in “new” ones? This whole process has perplexed me for ages. OK, so let me say straight out that if you or someone you love suffers from some unfortunate condition like alapicia or some affliction that causes your hair to fall out this rant may come off a bit insensitive and/or sound like I am poking fun. These people are not my target market and I apologize if I offend... That being said, WHAT'S WITH THE CHICKS AND THE EYEBROWS!!??? Outside of a tweezing incident gone horribly wrong I cannot imagine a scenario that shaving off ones eyebrows would seem like a GOOD idea!  I can't wrap my head around it. I can't fathom how difficult it must be to draws those things on every morning. Think about it, they have to MATCH! If not you look like you're questioning everything everybody says, with that raised eyebrow “are you sure about that” look. What if they're not even? Grab the erasure and start over. Too high and you look surprised... constantly.. all day. Too low and you're angry despite perhaps a smile or some other indicator that would dispel such a conclusion.  You would be a walking paradox.  I never think about my eyebrows, and yet when I'm in the same room as someone who draws their own I cannot stop thinking about theirs. There is NOTHING natural looking about taking a sharpie and drawing a line above someones eye in a vain attempt to replace something that need not be replaced. Yet this seems to be the desired effect many women are going for. Sometimes I just stare at them and think there was a point for them before leaving the house that they said, “yup, I'm good” or “that's what I'm looking for” or at least “I'm ready to go.” I could not disagree more. You are scary looking. I look on in abject horror that this look is what you are somehow wanting. Why is it this way? Why is it that people will go to such extremes to feel like they look good. I barely trust my own judgment to pick out a pair of jeans by myself, much less deciding if my hair looks alright, and I don't have that much of it to begin with. Why do people do this to themselves? We put so much emphasis on the package, and so little on what's inside. Who cares if I'm an idiot as long as I'm pretty.   And it must be said that some people pull it off.  Being evil and/or stupid yet good looking that is.  But others do not.  Do not in a bad way.  So that's why I love Sun Chips. Sun Chips make me happy. Why? I will tell you, because not only did someone concern themselves with the taste of these dudes, but also that they are somewhat good for you. That may take a little bit more time and effort, but the fine folks at the Sun Chips plant feel its worth it and so do I. We need to make it less about the package and more about what's in it. Otherwise people will just throw you out their window and you'll blow around wasted in the wind like the empty bag you probably are.  Sun Chips and eyebrows baby, that's what I'm all about...  Let's keep them both REAL!

--finn

So dogs are supposedly man's best friend...

But I've never taken a dump on my best friend's floor...  well there was that one time back in college but I believe my point still stands.

--finn

Help me with something...

So I went to see a movie today.  What is it with the people and their need to react audibly to movies?  I don't get it.  With the exception of laughter at appropriate times, there really are few other noises a human needs to make during a movie.  Some guys I think just can't help themselves.  I saw this movie in Nashville and I can debunk the stereotype that certain ethnic groups talk to the screen during movies because it was a mostly caucasian affair today.  But that's besides the point.  I'm just trying to understand the mentality of these dudes who think they need to vocalize their reactions in such a loud manner.  I'm not talking about the involuntary shrieks or gasps that a surprising moment might bring.  I'm talking about the guy who cheers when the hero triumphs over something.  Or when anything a person allows out of his mouth actually forms a sentence much less a short phrase.  SHUT UP!  Is what I say.  Well, I don't "say" it per se, I actually think it.  I'd hate to be hypocritical... or perhaps... the target of a violent attack should I offend some monolith with my superior thinking.  The big one though, what's with the clapping at the end of the movie.  Who are you clapping for?  Do you think that the producers are in the building?  Is the director getting updates from the theater?  "Did they clap?  No?  Crap!  We must have done something wrong..  I knew that cameraman was an idiot!  Thanks for your help Bob."  And while we're on the subject of movies, I'm tired of the little make-you-sit-though-the-credits-to-see-the-last-scene scheme.  Dude, just make the end of the movie the end of the actual movie.  I don't need to know who the Best Boy or Key Grip guy was.  Give me a break, that is really only for the dudes that are there to see the movie with his friends.  "I told you I worked on that movie cracker!  Give me my five bucks!"  Why do I have to sit through that crap to see the final scene?  Problem is, I'm starting to do it at all movies now so I don't have somebody say, DID YOU SEE THE LAST SCENE???  And I didn't and now I feel like an idiot.  But then when there isn't anything at the end of the movie, I just wasted 20 more minutes that I could've used elsewhere.  But hey I found out what washed up one hit wonder rock star wrote that song from the scene when that band was playing in the bar.  Useless, much like the crap that some dude is spouting off with during a movie making me miss out on dialog I wanted to hear... 

--finn

More of me at Mule...

This is a youtube clip of the last song of the 2nd set taken by somebody in the audience.  First off you see my big melon all through the vid right down in front, but at the 3:39 mark Warren tosses his pick at me, and I snag it.  Then at the 4:05 mark you see the guy who offered me the $100 for a pick come up and formally tell me he needs to hit an ATM and that he'll be right back.  He wanted that pick BAD and was afraid I'd leave.  He should've been more afraid of finding out he could've gone on ebay and snagged one for $20.  But I'm a businessman, its not my job to inform people of such things.  At least not while my shop is open!

$100 is a $100, and concert tix aren't cheap!

--finn

Video I took of Warren...

So good...  even cooler he threw out the pick he's playing this solo with and I was able to snag it. A guy behind me literally offered me $100 for it.  I couldn't believe that someone would offer that much, but he did.  I wanted the pick of course but $100 is a $100!  Keep in mind this is one of my favorite songs and the pick from it was quite a souvenir.  But if he was serious I was taking it.  Cool thing is I ended up catching another one and the guy came up to me and asked if I was gonna take his offer.  So I sold him the other pick and kept this one.  Again, I couldn't have scripted a better night.  I just don't think I could've thought something like this up...  

--finn

GOVT MULE!

So the Mule played in Bowling Green tonight.  I could not have been more excited.  Imagine your favorite band coming to your town, a town where NO BANDS come to, especially a band as big as this.  It just doesn't happen.  Even cooler was the fact that I scammed my way to the front row right in front of Warren.  You could NOT have given me a better seat in that entire place (and the place was tiny, 800 seats) than where I sat for this show.  Even cooler than that was that we got backstage and hung in the dressing rooms long enough to chat up Warren and get some pics.  I just tried to look like I knew where I was going and no one decided to question me (I have a friend who is a backstage ninja, we followed his plan and it worked to a T).  It was an awesome show.  If you told me I could have any seat in the place before the show I would have picked the very seat I was in, no question.  Some VIP dude missed out, apparently I didn't look like someone they wanted to ask to move.  Fine with me and the couple of friends that made their way up to sit next to me.  If I scripted the night to go the way I wanted, I probably would've thought some of the things that happened to be just too much and not written it that way, but all of them did.  Very cool, here's some photographic proof of one incredible night for me:

The view from my seat...  Mr. Warren Haynes

Warren and I backstage after the show...

Matt Abts and me behind the venue...

Danny Louis and me...

(Danny) Andy Hess and me...

Me checking out Warren's rig after the show...

--finn

SUCCESS!!

Well friends, good times were had by all I hope.  I have to tell you I've had great days cooking before but this one was sweet.  The BBQ turned out awesome.  You know the game is a little scary sometimes because you can do all your best stuff and come to find out you bought a piece of meat that the great ones couldn't get tender.  But I am happy to announce that I got a couple of very nice hunks of meat and they came off excellent.  Which I couldn't be happier, because I would've been bummed to have to delete these posts and act like nothing every happened but, no need, everything went as well as I could've hoped (better in the case of the brisket).

First off the pork.  I do the butts a lot and this time I did the shoulder (same leg just the other half of it).  I will definitely do it again.  Good stuff...

Now on to the brisket.  I've only done brisket a few times, I'm not gonna lie, you gotta be up to the challenge.  It can throw you for a loop here and there.  Getting a good flavor isn't too hard, its the tenderness that I've had trouble with.  I just knew it could be more tender than what I've pulled off in the past.  Again I attribute it to the cut of meat itself.  Well, if my theory is correct I got a great brisket today.  Tender, juicy and would you check out that smoke ring!!   Mrs. McCool is not a huge fan of brisket and yet is still sneaking pieces of it...

--finn

Looking pretty sweet...

All is going well...  I'm a little concerned about dryness at this point, but let's face it, these are not lean cuts of meat.  There are some happy juices in there.  There has to be.  I started basting anyway, just to be sure and to bring some moisture to the party...

--finn

What a beautiful morning...

Despite the makings of a head cold and feeling kinda crappy, I am really excited about cooking up some seriously good stuff today.  Here's where we're at.  Brisket formed a nice little paste of rub and meat juices that was nice and sticky, and I took the shoulder out of the brine at about 11:00 last night and rubbed it up.  

I usually cook fat side up for self-basting action to go on.  The rub side looked so good and I know that some people cook fat side down I decided to give it a shot.  This means more basting and time but I have a good amount of time today so we're going with it.  I'll make up a beer/vinegar mop up a little later and we'll see how it goes...  Here's what it looked like to start off:

--finn

I'm a Bad Man...

What I am preparing to do seems almost sinful...  unethical to say the least, I must be breaking a law in some society somewhere because I don't know how often a backyard cook pulls this kind of ridiculousness off.  This weekend many people do some Q'n and that's just what I intended to do myself.  The question was however what is usually answered according to my very own whim.  Not today... today it was a conundrum.  Beef?  Or pork?  I know, I'm thinking the same as you.  Sometimes you just can't decide.  Today was that way for me.  So my good readers (have I mentioned how much I love anyone that reads this crap.  I love you all, both of you) with the help of some seriously good meat sales... I decided to cook both.  Oh and we are NOT screwing around.  We are throwing down on brisket and butt.  Would I dare?  Yeah, I know, I'm a bad man.  So I thought I would chronicle my adventures.  So check it out, here's how it all began...

Yeah, not that tasty looking now, but what you're looking at is huge hunk of pork in brine.  If you know your stuff, you know this is pretty cool.  If you don't, just know that it a really cool step that most people don't take because it takes some serious time.  At least that's the reason I hadn't done it before.  But like I said, we're not screwing around this weekend...

(Editor's Note 8:00 am Saturday morning - After literally dreaming about this cooking experience last night I awoke to the compelling need to build a better brine.  I did some research on brining and found a better way to do it involving pickling salt as opposed to normal table salt due to its cold temperature dissolving ability.  Bottom line: I'm just nuts enough that it was bugging me that there was a better way to do it and I wasn't doing that.  So a quick trip to Wal-mart and we're rocking again.  Excitement level is high, however there are some potential weather issues and I may get up insanely early Sunday am to start the process so I can enjoy the nice day its supposed to be then...  Just know I've got some happy meat in the fridge right now.  Did I mention I'm using molasses instead of sugar in the brine? Yeah, I know...)

Oh and what do we have here?  Yup the aforementioned brisket baby!  We are brining the pork and curing the beef.  The cure is essentially my rub slightly more salty, but she's gonna sit wrapped up in that love for about 12 (or more) hours before the heat comes along.  Yeah, I know...

--finn

So let me set the scene...

I'm not what you would call a "good" golfer. Let's just say I have flashes of brilliance, followed by intermittent periods of "AHHH CRAP!!" Its what I do. Anyhoo, I play in this scramble every year and this year it was this past Saturday. I always like to at least have ONE hole. This year it was number 8. I played it rather nicely, and just happened to catch it on video. First check out this monster drive (that actually went straight). Did I mention it was straight into the wind and still managed about 260 yards? No? Yeah, so it was windy... Turn your speakers down, this blast might disturb the neighbors (no, not really... its hyperbole friend, look it up).



Needless to say we kept that shot. The green is down the fairway and to the left behind the trees. My shot put us behind the trees with a high 9-iron to the green. While I don't have video of my 2nd shot, I think this picture might say something... STUCK IT!! No I did not touch this ball, walked up and took the picture, then one of the putt. About 10 feet. Wish I had a camara crew to see that one go over the tree...





I missed the putt, but one of the other guys hit it for birdie. So, enough braggadocious-ness, cuz I was all over the course the rest of the day. Only contributed a couple more shots and my putting was terrible. But I had this... and this was pretty cool!

--finn

In the dictionary under DELICIOUS...

So yesterday I was at our nations largest retailer and noticed some very nice ribs on sale and made the decision I was going to make history. Its been grill week on Food Network (yes, I am a loyal viewer, wanna make somethin of it?) and I just had to make something amazing. And amazing I did... I don't mean to get all braggadocious on you, but I know what I like and I LOVED these.

They are memphis-style dry rubbed, yes with my own homemade rub. Sauce???! You don't need it. Don't even ask for it. Take a bite then shut up and eat, the question won't even be there anymore as your eyes roll back in your head. They smoked for 5 hours and came out insanely tender and... well amazing.

--finn

Raconteurs Live!

One of my favorite bands right now... Saw them live in Nashville in a tiny club like this one. Incredible show...

Click on hear the concert on this story...

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90769922

--finn

Got a Spare 12 minutes?

SRV at his finest...  This left me speechless.

BTW, there are some great shows on this site.  Highly recommend the Hendrix shows...

--finn

I don't like it here...

Do you have certain restaurants that you make an annual-ish trip to if only on some lower conscious plain to remind yourself how much you don't really like that restaurant?  Certain places sound really good until you go there and then you wish you would've remembered how much you don't enjoy the place.  Mine is Shoney's.  Yeah, I'm not a fan.  But for some reason it ends up in the rotation once in a couple blue moons or so.  So that's all this post is?  I don't like Shoney's?  Seriously man, a month away from the blog and you find two minutes to scribble one out and the best you can come up with is Shoney's is not a favorite?  You're getting weak.  Next time come a little more correct alright?!

--finn

  

Enough with the Stupid Questions

Why do we as humans feel the need that when a person takes one square in the no-no's that we immediately begin with the "are you ok?" interrogation?  Oh, yeah...  I'm good I just sometimes feel the need to fall to the ground holding myself in this position out of joy.  Yeah, pure joy.  I've done it since I was young.  Perhaps it would be best if maybe you stopped talking to me so the joy can pass and I can fully appreciate it?  Do you think that would be OK there doc?  I'm only assuming you're a doctor because you seem to have an interest in medical issues.  So I guess no, I'm not ok, I'm probably bleeding internally and I'm questioning my gender at this point, but other than that, pure joy...  I don't get it, we don't think anymore do we?  Don't get me wrong, its taken me years to stop doing this very thing.  Do you know why?  I'll tell you, because stupid people breed stupid people.  Its contagious.  Its just the thing we do.  Its like the "bless you/guzoontight deal (yeah, I know that's not how you spell it, but it looked funny so I left it) when someone sneezes.  What's that about?  Aeons ago people thought you died for a second when you sneezed (!) and that the devil would get your soul, but the ever powerful "bless you" would be the thing to keep that horrid thought from occurring?  Seriously, we need to perpetuate this superstition?  Its just a sneeze people let it go.  And if I go rapid fire on them, calm down.  I don't need one each time.  I really don't want it at all, so let's just keep the blessing in its proper place.  I don't know what that is right now, but I do know its not a stinking sneeze.  In fact the best thing you can do when I sneeze is to act like it didn't happen.  That's all the blessing I'm looking for.  A tissue would be helpful.  Perhaps you could Endust this place one in a while.  That's what you'd call a pre-blessing.  Which reminds me, some people do the thing where they don't let the sneeze out.  No, their "logic" dictates they would rather take that 200 mile an hour pressure and trying hold it between their ears.  How is that healthy?  I'm waiting for the first person to blow their head off one of these days.  Don't say I didn't warn you if it goes down.  What are you trying to do?  Be polite?  Not look dumb?  Let me be the one to say that a normal sneeze isn't the most beautiful a person can look, but you holding one in doesn't really knock anybody over either.  Might want to reconsider that plan.  I want to meet the walmart official that decided that every time somebody walks up to a cashier they have to ask me "did you find everything you were looking for?"  No, genius, I didn't.  I'm just dropping this stuff off and starting the quest up again.  Nanook my guide and I were on the hunt for the Arctic Circle when we came across a walmart and thought shaving cream would be good for the journey.  Yes, crackhead I found what I was looking for, and I'm now paying for it.  Don't you think that if I didn't find everything I was looking for that I would be STILL LOOKING FOR IT?  I hate to be harsh, because its not their fault.  They're just following orders.  But please, for the two people a year that go "I couldn't find the paperclips," can we just let 'em go home without the stinking paperclips?  I'm tired, and I need a nap...  

--finn

Settlers and Explorers

Two roads diverged in a wood and I --

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

--Robert Frost (The Road Not Taken, 1920)

I have a friend who at some point back in 1987 decided he'd heard all the new music he would ever need to hear.  Don't get me wrong, he loves music, but now he'd no longer need anything new.  I'm not saying this was a conscious decision.  By no means.  Who would do that?  Rather, he just scoffs at the notion that there might be a new CD he might want to buy that wasn't produced in the 80's or prior (I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit).  I know this because he once asked me while driving if I LIKED(!) Michael Bolton (there it goes again).  Anyway, I find this fascinating, not so much that someone actually enjoys Michael Bolton, but more the fact of how people reach a point in their lives where they say "yup, I'm good."  "All set, thank you."  And they don't move from there.  "No more new experiences for me."  "I've got all I need right here."  This is a concept I will never understand.  But it shows me there are at least two types of people in this world:  Those who settle and those who explore.  I consider myself the latter and am blown away by the former.  I'm not exaggerating.  It amazes me.  Now again, don't think I don't enjoy things that I've enjoyed before, I do.  I'm a huge fan of things that I liked before and will continue to like again.  But here's the point, they need to be mixed in with new and exciting experiences that will become future favorite pasts.  What is also crazy about this is a settlers reluctance to try new things.  For example the fear that shows up in someone's eyes when someone suggests they try a new food.  You know these people, you perhaps are one.  You have 4-5 mainstay, go-to meals and that's about it.  When you go to a restaurant you order the same thing, even if its a different place.  Basically, you like chicken fingers A LOT.  Probably with barbeque sauce and feel like you're going to die if the place doesn't have Dr. Pepper.  Yeah, I know you.  Scary, isn't it?  I blame your parents.  They are completely the narrow-minded by-product of their own parents narrow mindedness and they're now perpetuating it on to you.  Its not your fault Will... its not your fault Will...  its not your fault Will.  (that's a Good Will Hunting reference for those of you who just watched Harry and the Henderson's for the 10,000th time).  You get uncomfortable with the very thought of trying something that obviously a great percentage of others enjoy routinely.  You see people enjoying things, you hear about them doing it and you physically shiver.  "Ewwww," you say.  "I could never."  You can't fathom the idea of stepping out of the box, the box is comfortable and everything outside of it...  you literally fear.  You probably get the bitter beer face when someone mentions the word sushi and head for the bathroom when the singer says "we're gonna play a new song for you now."  Don't try to deny it!  Its true and you know it.  But now that I've exposed you I want to give you some hope.  You see, in some ways I used to be you.  I had all kinds of walls that I had no real explanation for other than that's the way I grew up.  But now I don't pigeon hole myself into anything.  I look forward to trying something new.  And when I do sometimes its good, sometimes not so much.  Bear in mind though, I'm not thinking in my head that I somehow need to score a touchdown each time.  The key is enjoying the journey.  Enjoy the experience.  I don't settle and neither should you.  Think about it for  a moment, what it is you are doing.  Think about the people who settled in like... Ohio!  My goodness talk about setting your sights low.  Hey here's a big patch of land, let's live here!  Who wants to be that guy?  OHIO??!!  Nothing against the fine people who live there now, but in 1720 I don't imagine there was much to call home.  I mean the Great Lakes to the north, the Appalachians to the south, what made you stop there?  I want to be the guy who didn't stop until he hit an ocean. Lewis & Clark saw Ohio and said "there has to be something better out there, let's keep going..."  And go they did.  The Mississippi, the Rocky Mountains, The Grand Canyon, Yosemite and the Pacific all waited for them.  But Ohio dudes said, naaahhh I'm good, and built a chair.  I think we need to find out what the thing is that puts up the invisible wall.  What makes an explorer settle.  Everyone has to be an explorer at some point.  Why stop now?  And if you're a parent, don't let your children stick up their noses at new things.  Especially the foods.  There is no better way to find out about a people than to enjoy what they enjoy and that starts with the chow.  Yeah, it may be horrible, but then you'd know.  Trust me, you won't die.  And they're would probably be a great story at some point.  

--finn  

Whatever...

I hate the word whatever.  (I even hate its idiot cousin, FINE!  But that's another post)  It is the conversational equivalent to hanging up on somebody.  Shutting them down, kicking their thoughts and feelings in the teeth without a care or concern as to the pain it may cause.  Hanging up on somebody is one of the worst ways to express your anger.  It cuts off the communication that could potentially rescue the relationship from the negativity that has somehow reared its ugly head before you both.  It leaves the person holding this dead line.  Nothing there.  You were there and now you're gone.  No hope of reconciliation.  The person left holding this useless piece of plastic.  Wondering what just happened?  Wondering what was so bad that you can't even hear my voice anymore.  Why and how did it come to this?  What road were we on that suddenly we took a left on Getawayfromme Avenue.  Whatever is just like that.  Whatever is ambivalent.  Whatever is dismissive.  Whatever is evil.  Whatever tells the person you callously throw it at that you don't like the person's thoughts or intentions and you spit them along with some stinging venom right back in their face.  What are you saying when you decide to toss out the 'whatever' retort?  Basically its a you don't matter.  You, your thoughts, your hopes, what have you, they are all nothing.  You are nothing.  How horrible are those words?  NOTHING!?  That's the way you want this person to feel?  By its very definition that's what whatever is.  Like a chewed up, stiff, flavorless piece of gum or the wrapper it came in.  You spit it out not even caring it might end up on some dudes shoe.  Who cares?  I don't care enough to care less.  Indifference.  No one you love or care about in the slightest should EVER be made to feel that way.  Not even for a few seconds.  Whatever is selfish and hateful.  No matter how you want to sugar coat it, some kind of release, some kind of save mechanism.  Tell yourself what you want, its still careless.  You liked me this morning, you'll probably like me tomorrow, why not just like me now.  Why not keep whatever in its positive sense.  Why not whatever your anger?  Why not whatever your need to be spiteful?  Why not whatever your temper?  Why not whatever the things that make us stab at the ones we love.  Even a few seconds of pain is too much.  Isn't it?  How backwards is the thinking that we need to go to war so there can be peace?  People say making up is always fun.  I cannot disagree with you more.  Keeping things on the right path is fun.  Staying away from pain is fun.  I don't need to taste gasoline to enjoy lemonade.  Can't we all just get along?  Put down the dukes there Killer and sit a spell.  Don't whatever me, because I will never whatever you. 

--finn    

Vanity

Do you enjoy spending countless hours in the bathroom preparing for a day with the world only to find that according to their rigid, joyless, pompous, life-sucking, mind-controlling and overly-critical standards that you do not hold a candle to somehow measuring up?  Do find it ridiculous how much money is spent by the hapless and happiness-less to impress the very people they loathe?  Yet at the same time do you find yourself unable to quickly pick out a decent pair of shoes or jeans?  Have you ever bought a shirt you liked only to find out that was last year's fashion and now you can no longer wear it without aghast looks coming the opposite way at the mall?  Do you have a body that doesn't really fit in the standard sizes?  Do you wish that one day you could just feel normal like seemingly so many others are able to?

Yeah, me neither...

--finn

Name Brands

I have to confess something... I am a brand snob. I don't know whether to tell you this defiantly or to cower in shame. Is this a problem? Or am I just one of many who just want a little more out of life? Yeah, that's right I want more. The kind of more that you can't get with off-brand Doritos. The kind of more that only actual Corn Pops can give you. That's right friends of mine, I don't buy my cereal in bags! If there isn't some sort of box involved I've got a 'tude against it. I didn't wait my entire life to grow up own my own home, drive a car and do things adults do to have my standards come up in logos that kinda look the real things, but not really. What are those things anyway? Who says to themselves I'm not gonna make my own thing, I'm starting a business that mimics actual things and make my millions off the backs of hard working marketing beasts by making lower quality, strange tasting pseudo-products that hopefully will fool the less-discerning lot that will say things like "its the same thing" and "I just saved 27 cents!" before selling out in their life completely like when Def Leppard recorded Hysteria. And if you liked that album I'm pretty sure you've got a bottle of Dr. Thunder in your fridge right now. Do you know what makes me this adamant? Its simple really: STANDARDS! Yeah, I said it. Standards. Standards mean you're not going to skip a step. Marketing means something. Taste means something. And not wussing out in 1987 after making an incredible album in 1983, just because your drummer lost an arm. And again, I have to say if you were impressed with the fact that a band had a one armed drummer and/or ever muttered the words "hey he's pretty good" then you don't have a clue what I'm talking about. You sir don't know what all the fuss is about Angus Beef. You could care less if 4 out of 5 dentists would back anything. You don't know why choosy mothers choose Jiff . You don't buy Ketchup, you're perfectly content with whatever Catsup is. You're confused by such things as quality and craftsmanship like they are foreign concepts. You act like you got the sense of "Pour Some Sugar on Me." That's right people my ketchup is Heinz. My mustard is French's. And only Kraft can make my Miracle Whip! Its about hopes and dreams and not settling. Not settling for "good enough." What is good enough about something that is a cheap imitation of what it should be? NOTHING! I will tell you this: If I were to buy creamed corn (yag) there would be a large green man on the can. So is it me? Or are you perhaps just like me but afraid to admit it? I think we both know the truth. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go raid the fridge for more of that delicious Delmonte Gold pineapple that is cut up and waiting for me. Standards baby, standards.

--finn

Confidence

OUR DOUBTS ARE TRAITORS AND MAKE US LOSE THE GOOD WE OFT MIGHT WIN BY FEARING TO ATTEMPT. ~SHAKESPEARE

Have you ever seen on the news where some dude did something amazing and everybody is talking about it. Like somebody went into a burning building and saved a kid. He'll commonly say he did it without thinking, he just reacted. Without thinking? That is significant. Why? I will tell you. So often people will take note of a situation, and tell themselves why they cannot do something. And not try, find a way out. More often than not it is a situation that they would like to fulfill a certain need but don't. This is proof positive that there is a dude in the back of everyone's mind that tell us that we cannot, when clearly we'd like to be able to can. I hate that guy. Who is he, why is he there? Now I don't think he's the same one as the one that says, no young Finn, just because you have a blanket tied around your neck that doesn't mean you'll be able to fly out of this tree. That's a good guy. He's not trying to bring you down, he's trying to keep you from getting dead. This other guy is mean. He won't let you do things that you clearly could. What is the fear? Failure. What is failure? Depends on the person I think. Failure really, if you boil it all down, is merely not achieving what you set out to do right? Big deal. So you didn't do it. Relax. Is the world ending? Did someone die? Well in most situations where that guy pipes off... no. None of those things happen. I've heard that one of the top fears in anyone's life is public speaking. Public speaking? What are we afraid of? You can talk to your friends. You can tell stories to a group of them. Why can't you tell others what you want to tell them. What are you afraid of? Its that dude, he's an idiot. And he exaggerates the possibilities. He tells you there is no possible way when there is. He tells you there's danger when there isn't. So I'm telling you to ignore that guy. He makes you think about the least likely scenario until it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The human body and mind can accomplish amazing things. You dear reader have seen it yourself. But when you listen to that guy in the back of your head. you lose. Heck, we all lose. Because you were just going to do something cool that could've impressed someone else and encouraged them to do something cool. But the moment was lost. I'm not endorsing not thinking, I'm endorsing thinking in a way that ignores that idiot that says you can't do what you just might be able to do, and if you can't SO WHAT??!! You tried and probably learned the reason why. Next time... Boom, rock star. But without the try, nothing. So I ask you to do one thing. Do it for your friend Finn. Today I want you to stop using the word 'maybe' and replace it with 'perhaps'. Why? Because its a start that's why. The word 'maybe' is negative. When you say it, you usually shrug your shoulders. Nothing positive about that. But the word 'perhaps', that's totally different. There is an air of optimism in that word that 'maybe' just can't hang with. 'Perhaps' is the half-full of the indefinite world. 'Maybe' is the creamed corn of possibilities. Always think that you could perhaps do something. You will no longer turn down your hopes and dreams. You'll stop fearing failure. You are capable of much more today than you think and tomorrow even more. Unless you're ugly, then let's face it the odds aren't in your favor. Hope can't help the ugly. Might as well give up now and take up Dungeons and Dragons or perhaps you could start a blog.

--finn

The grass is always greener...

I was driving through a rural area late last summer and came upon a farm fence line with a goat's head sticking out of it. "Hey, look at that goat..." I said with no real point other than the mere observance. Have you ever been envious of an animals body part? Birds have wings, elephants have trunks, fish have gills... you imagine how cool it would be to have something like that for a short time until you realize the extent by which you would be considered a freak and your life would be marred by a never-ending struggle to conform to society's mold of whatever a human is supposed to look like despite pulling off the potentially super hero like actions that having such freakish abilities would allow. (man I love run on sentences, don't you? forget it Microsoft Word paper clip cartoon guy! I'm not changing it, you can make it green all you want... get your own blog!) Well, goats... as you may or may not know have horns. Not all of them do, but this little man did. And if you're going to stick your head through a fence you better be prepared for the consequences. Alas, he was not. His head was stuck there. Those horns said, slow down there man, you are staying right here. Well, it took me and another person a good 20 minutes to calculate a way of freeing this goat. (yes, I stopped and helped, why? oh, like you wouldn't!) And he was not happy. Fact is when you stick your head and horns through a fence it happens pretty easy, getting back out hurts though. A lot. A tear came to the eye of all when that little dude happily took off and ran to be with his other goat friends who had since abandoned him, whom no doubt are still laughing about the incident. You know how goats are! (hey Billy, remember that time you said you were gonna get some GOOD grass (snicker) and you... sidebar: Give me a sec, I just realized I named my goat Billy, too funny) Well, you might think that's the end of this story, but it isn't! Two weeks later, I come down the same road and what do I see? Same fence, same goat, same hole... same horns. I don't drive that road much in the winter time, and for all I know the second time didn't teach him much either. (the second rescue was actually harder than the first) But I was thinking about my goat friend the other day. Not only was he possibly stuck right now and how much of a bummer that would be for him, but also about how there was this huge pasture of grass, green as the day is long and my man was not content with that grass, no. He wanted more. He wanted the unattainable. The good life. His present circumstances were just not enough for him. He had to have the grass on the other side of the fence. The tastier grass. The bright shiny, candy like grass! Maybe he was tired of eating where the less discerning goats would drop their business, which is reasonable, I know I would be. But even when he realized that going for that life was not really a good idea, he couldn't help himself. He had to go back again. Perhaps he thought this time it would be different. But we as humans have the thinking ability and the wisdom to see the possible pitfalls of going after things which are beyond our means. But we actually choose not to use it. We know how this movie is going to end and yet we watch it anyway. We've even read the book! (don't you hate it when people say the book is better than the movie? I don't know how this is possible. books take a lot of time to read and I can see a movie in like 90 minutes. which is much better by my calculations. we get it, you like to read, relax nerd) But we can't help ourselves. Statistics are such that any potential reader of this insanity is over extended in credit. Perhaps living a life that his means do not allow. Here where I live there are some MESSED UP homes. I'm not kidding when I say this. Some people live in some nasty places. But you know what, they all have satellite TV! The good life. Not that $50 a month is some extravagance, but couple that with the beer and cigarettes and I'm thinking a home upgrade is possible sooner than later. But I'm no math expert. We don't ever like what we have as much as what we don't have. Perhaps this is the true human nature. Don't get me wrong I'm not immune to this I want that mentality either. I actually have things that I can't/couldn't afford. I have done myself wrong financially but still found a way to have toys. I have no real measure of discipline in this regard. Yes friends, I've stuck my own head through the fence more than once. At times somebody helped me get my head out, other times I sat there in my misery wondering if some wiser, higher thinking, non-horned man would come along and help me, but nobody came. Eventually I busted a horn off and vowed not to it again. But I did. So the question remains: Will I ever be smarter than a goat? We can only answer that for ourselves...


--finn

(no goats were harmed in the writing of this blog post, well not bad anyways)

Leave a message at the beep...

In my line of work I leave and receive a lot of voice mails. I personally hate the voice mail culture that we as a society have developed. Apparently it was a much smarter group of humans when the day came for actual postal mail to be sent and received and I'll tell you why. Today, this people, our contemporaries have felt it necessary in every voice mail situation to unquestioningly leave specific and detailed information on how to do said task, even going to the extent of telling them that there will be an unfamiliar tone at the end of the instructions signaling the start of their part of the transaction. In the days of what we now call snail mail, no such ridiculousness was required. There was no list of processes to get at the words inside that folded and sealed piece of paper. You know why? Because it was obvious. They just got it. And yet somehow we survived. Somehow human communication continued to progress. All that has changed though. Today I have to sit and listen to please leave your name, number and the time you called in a short message after the beep and I will get back to you. Has no one ever in the history of mankind considered how condescending these instructions are? Imagine having to hear each time you make some toast that you need to put in one and only one slice of bread in each of the slots and pull down the lever, wait, and lift it back up at the desired point of crunchiness. I mean what person on this planet currently does not understand the concept of voice mail to the extent that EVERY SINGLE outgoing message needs this kind of tedious direction. Is there anyone out there wondering what to do when someone says their name and there is a sudden beep! Are they out there thinking "What the heck was that?" Response "What was what?" "I don't know I was calling Fred, I heard him pick up the phone and then there was a beep like sound and no instructions whatsoever as to what I should do now. Any idea?" "Ummmm, RUN! GET OUT OF THERE NOW!!!" Think of the amount of collective time and energy that is wasted on just listening to and dealing with the completely unnecessary voice mail instructions so insanely common today. What amount of greenhouse gases, fossil fuels and chlorofluorocarbons would be held back from their destructive sources if we as a people could just trust that somehow, someway we could make it through the day without someone telling us that our message must be "short" or that you need to leave a name during the call. Sure there will be some people who without such instruction will not quite pull it off. But are we really at a point in our growth as a people that we have to coddle the stupid? If some mind-blowingly regressive mouth-breather needs to learn multiple times that putting his tongue on frozen metal in the winter time is not a good source of refreshment, LET HIM! Good news is, he won't be talking on the phone so much anymore, or least not that well. Yes, I'm aware that with my plan some calls won't get returned. Most likely some confusion will exist. But people will eventually learn, overcome and especially adapt. Seriously, imagine the growth as a society that will come forth. We went from guys riding horses with quill penned notions, to frivolously sending words electronically across the earth in mere seconds, and all that without so much as a put your name and address on the envelope or any kind of beep. We may never know what's next technologically because we have all been dumbed down to the degree that no one will ever prosper, in anything. Am I being ridiculous? I don't think so. Today marks the birth of of Alexander Graham Bell (thanks Google!) and I can't say as I ever knew the man. But if I did, I would imagine him as someone who would not be able to deal with the guy who has a long outgoing message riddled with overly detailed, highly redundant instruction. I'm pretty sure Alexander and I would agree on a great deal. For example should Alex and I ever call each other, we'd leave messages, sure. But he wouldn't be hitting me the the "Hey Finn, its Al call me back." Nope, Big A would be smarter than that. He'd either leave a message telling me what I need to know without need of a call back or he would think expediently and say, I'll just let him notice the missed call and call me back rather than bog him down with a voice mail telling him to do something he had already planned to do but had to wait because there was a voice mail to listen to. That AGB! Smart dude! And I love him for it. Do you know why? Because someone that invents that kind of wonderfully convenient mode of communication would never DREAM of telling me what I need to do in the voice mail every single, stinking time I call him. No he would invent a process to keep that from happening. Problem is somebody already invented common sense, just sadly in short supply.

--finn

Turtles...

I like turtles... As a matter of fact I will rarely pass a turtle who is making a valiant however foolishly slow attempt at crossing the road. But do you know what I wonder? Sometimes I think, what makes me think I knew what way the turtle was going? Perhaps I just set him back two hours by taking him where he just came from? At which point I no longer am a turtle helper I'm way more of a turtle really making late guy. Perhaps all this time I am not very good at helping turtles but really good at pissing them off. DUDE! I was just here, thanks a lot there genius! Which makes me think of how often humans tend to act like they know better when it comes to animals. I'm thinking no. I mean yeah, I'm most likely only delaying the inevitable when it comes to my turtle rescue program, but shouldn't we at times take a look outside of ourselves and maybe learn something about who we're trying to help? Take for example a friend of mine, let's call her... oh I don't know... Dee. Dee recently told me about her turtle "rescue." And this really got me thinking. See Dee found a turtle as the climate was changing and thought, he needs my help. So she brought him home. (!) Yes, home. Not to his home, mind you, but hers. Now I'm not in any way questioning the wholesome intentions of Dee and her kids. I'm even applauding them. But what then? Well, she put him a tub. And I guess put in some things that she feels a turtle would like. You know to recreate nature in this TUB! So maybe a stick, a rock and some water. So I asked her, what do you feed the turtle. I was expecting some sort of pet store brand turtle food. Yeah, not so much. She's feeding him fruit. Not just any fruit mind you but the kind of fruit cocktail that comes in little cups. Oh, yeah he likes it. Wouldn't you? But I'm thinking, what happens when she let's him go in springtime. He's gonna chomp down on a grasshopper or whatever and spit that sucker right back out! Somebody who eats bugs and little fish probably should never acquire a taste for fruit in a light sugary syrup. Kinda makes the lesser tasty stuff pale in comparison. He's gonna be looking for the Sweet & Low and its not gonna be there. And that's just plain sad. Another thing I thought of with this is what if this turtle was almost to his spot he was going? What if he was like 2 feet away when they found him. Man, so close yet so far away. She would be one terrible taxi driver. Take me to the airport. You got it pal... Here we are. This isn't the airport. Yeah, but its better this is a movie theater. You can catch another cab to the airport when the movie is over. But I don't want to see movie I need to catch a flight. Well, I'll take you to the airport in the spring. Bye. It'd be like you trying to get home but people kept driving you to the mall. What is it with us? Humans that is. What makes us so smart? What gives us the right to decide for other species what is good and what is not? But we do it though don't we? Our track record is full of introducing one species of this to control that or to feed this and eat that. I'm pretty sure that the japanese beetles that eat my grapevine every year didn't catch a flight out of Newark. I guess that's one thing that is uniquely human, the overwhelming desire to fix, but never knowing how to hit the undo button. No wisdom here folks, just keep moving...

Top 10 Lines from the Funniest Show on TV

You thought I was gonna say any episode of Most Shocking where tazers are invovled but you'd be wrong (close! but not this time, man I love tazers.  when some guy who really has it coming gets tazered I love it.  I back it up on tivo and watch it over and over and laugh.  someday someone will put together a collection of the best tazer shots from Cops and all those other shows, maybe even mix in some America's Funniest Home Videos rejects where stupid people are playing with one!  That would be the best, I might even put up $29.95 for a pay-per-view of that puppy!  SOMEBODY DO THIS!!  It could be a season finale!  A man can dream can't he?) 

The show? My Big Redneck Wedding on CMT. I have no clue how I ended up seeing this show, but I am so glad I did. Do yourself a favor and catch an episode.

I swear I have not made ANY of these up...

10) "He proposed to me by peeing 'will you marry me' in the road."

9) Bride upon receiving her wedding dress via FedEx: "I ordered a 28 and they sent me an 8!"

8) The florist: "I just can't believe you want flower arrangements in beer cans"

7) "I cannot believe you peed my name in front of her shop" - yeah, same guy from #10

6) Grandma "I LOVE Hot Pockets!"

5) Groom talking about writing his vows "I was gonna use fancy words but I don't have a clatorous" Yeah, he meant thesaurus.

4) "I've been working on that arch for a month now and that dern goat just..."

3) "well goat meat's good."

2) "my nails are camouflaged to match my dress"

1) Bride: "I can't find my teef"
Mother: "Your what?"
Bride: "My teef!"
Mother "Want mine?"

Honorable mentions:
"daddy said he's got a hog for the greased pig chase"
Following the ceremony... "Y'all let's go mud boggin'!"


And this was just two episodes! All I know is, I can't breathe right now.

Quotations...

"Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."

--Groucho Marx (1890-1977)


I love quotations (as you may have noticed). In fact, one of the main draws of writing in a blog was for the excitement of seeing something you wrote (well not you wrote, but me, I wrote it) and then your name after a --. I just LOVE the idea being dash, dash-ed. You have no clue. Even if its by my own making. Now, I don't know if the dash, dash thing is the true standard for saying this is the dude that said that, but to me it means something. (plus its much better than seeing the date of ones birth and death after the quote, not looking forward to that one). It says to the potential reader that this guy said something cool. And I'm just the kind of guy who wants to say cool things. I do, I'm not gonna lie. I love it when people say to me (however they don't do it nearly often enough) "remember that time when we were in the car and the guy asked us where we were going and you said..." Then, there is laughter. I LOVE THAT! I especially love it when I don't remember the thing I said and then it really was funny and I'm like, man that Finn is a funny guy. Now I know what you're thinking, not all quotations are funny, some are thought provoking, moving, promoting social change or just plain intelligent. Yeah, well I've been waiting around for one of those and let's just say I know what my place is in this world. Those things are for the other people, I just want to be the guy that says something funny, but lastingly so. Why? I don't know, get off me, I'm not trying to psycho analyze you am I? But I will tell you the guy I DO NOT want to be. You know the guy too. He's the one always going for the joke. But most of the time he's just reaching. I don't like that guy. You don't either I'm sure. But that's the danger of being me. I live on that edge. This Finn thing, yeah not my real name. But it has come to embody the person inside of me that desires to be funny, as much as possible. The guy that kinda works at it. Some people are just naturals at coming up with funny stuff on the spot. Sometimes I can be that guy, others times I'm the former. How do you hone your craft? I don't know there Oprah, you tell me. All I know is, it has something to do with being around people that are cool. Cool people breed cool people. Have you noticed that? Have you ever seen a group of friends that you just wanted to be around. Its certainly not easy to break into social circles without the benefit of similar circumstances, same job, same hobbies, same whatever. But notice the amazing thing that takes place, a group dynamic forms. There will usually be the one friend who is there for comic relief. He's not really the comic of the group he just says things off the top of his head and they are precious. Most of the time people laugh, the guy feels a little sheepish maybe (or maybe he's clueless to the laughter, those ones are the best) and fun is had by all. You need to take care of that guy. He's more important to your group of friends than you know. Don't bang on him too hard or he'll clam up, nobody wants that. When he's not around, things just aren't as fun. The guy you need to work on is Mr. Way Too Literal (also known as Mr. No Sense of Humor). I don't like this guy. He and I clash. He's the one that when you say a joke he explains in detail why its impossible. As if a humorous thought can never be based on some presumed level of ignorance or some ridiculous gross assumption. He's all, (Insert nerd voice here) well its a known fact that you should change or wash your loofah as often as you change your sheets or creamed corn is highly nutritious and was invented by the French. Nobody needs that guy around. He needs to be at home reading a book or something. That's the guy you bang on. Eventually then he'll be cool as he learns that ridiculousness is funny sometimes. But all of them get the dash, dash at times. Especially the actual cool guy of the group. Now, I don't have much experience with that guy, but I've seen him. (I recommend not having that guy, but you do what you want.) Sometimes, we can be all of those guys in their varying roles. When social groups that have that dynamic, they are truly special. Promote those roles and you'll love your friends in such a way that no distance will ever part you. And there will be many precious dash, dash's. The true -- though is the one that transcends whatever it was contained in. Whether it be a line in a speech, a novel or some article (a blog post maybe? I doubt it). That's the one. The pinnacle. The stuff dreams are made of. Well, at least it is for me, a wannabe writer who at times is told he is funny. I may never know the coolness of having something I said/wrote added indelibly into the lexicon of my cultures best, or even transcend my culture into others. But sometimes, my friends repeat things that I said because they remembered them and thought they were funny. And in a lot of ways, that's just as cool...

--finn

Do you know what I hate?

Creamed Corn. I'm serious, I can't even look at a can in the grocery store without stifling a gag reflex. If there is a more disgusting man made creation than creamed corn I have yet to have it attempted to be put on my plate. Who thinks this crap up? Who gets up in the morning and decides if they chew up a bunch of corn and spit in some milk people will buy it. And WHO BUYS IT? Man I can't deal with creamed anything. But when we're talking corn that just freaks me out. Need a convincing fake puke spill? Creamed Corn. Know why? Because its not a stretch! That can is actually full of vomit. What is vomit but chewed up food with whatever you drank during dinner? Creamed Corn = vomit. And if you eat it, I'm sorry you can be no friend of mine, because my friends don't eat vomit. Why are we creaming things anyway? What is the purpose of this insanity. Cream, good. Corn, good. Why are these two things needing to cross paths? What marketing genius said "You know Fred there aren't enough ways for parents to legally torture their kids, let's come up with a vegetable that kicks brussel sprouts in the teeth, whataya say?" Or maybe the cream guy was like "Hey I got too much cream, what should I do with it?" And the corn people were like, "Hey we got our own problems with all this excess corn." So they married the two things together and wallah! Homemade HURL! Mmmm, let's eat! I'm thinking the only way that stuff gets eaten is if somebody losses a bet! Or has to poop... Or both. Did you know that corn makes you poop? Its true. And creamed corn makes you puke. These are just two of the inescapable truths in life. So people, stop creaming stuff! Corn is good on its own, don't make it gross. Don't make anything gross. Few wiser words have ever been spoken.

--finn

Lucky...

A couple candles, some Gekkeikan, my dog and a cool tune and Monday isn't so bad. Man, that's like a commercial isn't it? "Gekkeikan SILVER... When Monday just blows..."




--finn

"Blog" is a funny word...

Kinda sounds like a noise you make when the roast beef you had for dinner makes a comeback appearance. The word log is funny period. (when you type the word period at then end of a sentence are you still required to add a . ? Seems kinda redundant.) The reason log is funny isn't necessarily due to its sound, but more along the lines of its synonymous nature with all things excrement. Excrement, not funny at all. Turd, though... Sorry I gotta stop, the third grader in me won't stop giggling because of the turd thing...

--finn

"I love it when you call me big pop-pa..."

Here it is... warts and all.




--finn

Sandals v. Flip-flops

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months."

--Oscar Wilde

Rock star (seriously, this guy was the Dylan of the late 1800's)

Ok, this year I've finally embraced the flip-flop. Why did it take me so long? You act like its no big deal but it is. See sandals just don't do it for me. I mean yeah, if you're a woman fine, but alas I am not. So this whole point is not in reference to the female culture. No this is speaking directly to the male use of the sandal. Bottom line: I'm not down. Got no use for the sandal. What are you saying when you wear sandals? I know what you think you're saying: I want to feel somewhat formal and its hot outside. Well, I tried the sandal thing once. You sir are not formal. Nothing says I have given up on my hopes and dreams like the use of sandals. And I am serious about this. Sandals were semi-hip (yes I know the word hip hasn't been hip since the early 70's but I'm bringing it back you square!) for like 20 minutes in 1998. A bunch of people bought them and then you could get a pair at Walmart for 10 bucks. Nothing against the fine folks at Walmart, but let's face it once your fashion choices start showing up there you need to take in an episode of The OC or something. Maybe just hit the mall man, see what the kids are wearing these days, because it sure ain't sandals! (Speaking of Walmart, I noticed that when Walmart comes up in conversation there's always one joker who thinks he's gotta pipe off about how they're ruining the free market system destroying the mom & pop operations of the world and then they get all soapboxy on the idea. I love a good opinion as much as the next guy, but when I can get a gallon of milk for like a dollar but have to take out a credit app to shop a mom & pop (I know you can't get a gallon of milk for a dollar there Mr. Coupon Cutter, relax I'm making a point here, get your own blog), I guess I just have a problem throwing money away. Besides, I really don't think this is a conundrum for me the common milk buyer, maybe when the government is done worrying about which ball players have the juice in their butts we can get something done about your mom & pop. Of course if it was my mom and my pop well then I'd be ticked, until then when I need some dish soap, I'm saving the 36 cents.) See the thing is, I guess I always thought sandals and flip-flops played for the same team. They were buds, spent time on the weekends together. Not true... and I can prove it. What is the #1 fashion faux pas involving sandals? As anyone under the age of 50 can tell you it is the use of socks especially dark colored ones. Try to wear socks with flip-flops and what happens? Feels like your big toe is gonna break off! If I'm not mistaken that kind of torture is mentioned in the Geneva Convention. (I do know one thing though if you can wear socks and flip-flops you my friend are a borderline superhero, you can go about your day, I'm not even talking to you...) Need more? No problem, think of the overall convenience factor for the flip flop wearer. You can go from bare feet to outside in like 3 seconds. WITH both hands full. No hands needed. Sandals, not so much. Application usually involves at least one hand. No sir, flip-flops and sandals are not friends. They aren't even from the same towns. Flip-flops are from beach areas like Ft. Lauderdale and San Diego. Sandals, I don't know Kansas? Maybe Nebraska. I think I've made my point. But I do have one issue with the flip-flops (and no, I don't call them thongs, and in this day and age considering the obvious synonymous confusion that could come up, let's just say I don't need that kind of press) I have a tough time dealing with that little slappy noise they make when you walk. For the most part I feel I'm secure enough as a male that I can deal with it, but every now and when I'm in say Walmart and I'm trying to get a gallon of milk really quick, it sounds to the innocent observer like a 50 year old mother coming after her kids in in the toy department in an authoritative manner. And yes, the looks are slightly difficult to deal with...

--finn

I love this guy...

"It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information."

--Oscar Wilde

Irish dramatist, novelist, & poet (1854 - 1900)


"I hear you Mr. Wilde... I shall do my best."

--finn

American wannabe comedian, incoherent babbler, & professional procrastinator (1971- )

Lay off the Dairy...

I really like milk. But the whole idea of it is kinda gross if you think about it too much.

--finn

Diet...

Sometimes I will say that one thing is the diet of another thing. Kinda like saying its a poor mans... whatever. Except I think that might be offensive to poor men. It's all about substitutions man, I mean diet anything is a poor imitation of an actual good thing. Diets can never be good or even as good as something by their very nature. Unless you're a poor man, then I guess diet stuff would be AWESOME! But diet stuff for the most part always blows. It has to, its kind of a rule. You don't partake of diet stuff because you like the flavor, its because you like the flavor of the one thing so much and rather than cut down on the amount of it you take in, you try to fool yourself into thinking hey this crap might be the same thing, but it isn't and you somehow manage to swallow the disappointment and go on. Hence, diet can never be a HOLY MOLEY CARL! THEY GOT DIET HERE! (If you want to make something funny and need a name, just use Carl, it works, trust me) Nope, its always less than the real thing. Case in point, diet pop. (and no I didn't say soda, know why? because its not soda, you bake with soda. you don't drink soda, unless you get a gut ache and need to err... release. But that's another topic and why do my parenthesis all of a sudden not require CAPS?) Diet pop has to be worse than the actual pop otherwise it would BE the actual pop. Sans the diet. So in effect diet could essentially mean crappy - less tasty - alternatively flavored - strange after taste - albeit kinda better for you. I'm just wondering if all the former is worth the latter. Sure there is an inherent value in not drinking a bunch of sugar. But dude, calm down on the pops and maybe you can have a little sugar. Do you know what the #1 diet pop is? That's easy, its the only one that doesn't say its a diet pop but it is, FRESCA! And I know this because I don't like diet pop, but I like FRESCA. You should try one. Don't come at me with your Diet Coke... VILE! Diet Dr. Pepper... please, PUTRID. (Putrid is definitely a funny word but let's not kid ourselves its so not breaking the top 80) They say Diet Dr. Pepper tastes more like regular Dr. Pepper. Who says this? And what kind of school did this Dr. get is PHD? Studies in how to take Coke and add something to it and pass it off as your own? If Diet Dr. Pepper tastes like regular Dr. Pepper then somebody owes me an apology! You're done messing with me Diet Dr. Pepper! Obviously there is a reason there is no Diet Mr. Pibb. And that's because Mr. Pibb and I have standards. And we aren't about to break them because some slob wants to down a 12-pack a day and think its no big deal...

--finn

Loofah is a funny word...

In the pantheon of funny words loofah has got to be in the top 100. BUT! Did you know that a natural loofah is the fruit of the Luffa acutangula (not funny) and Luffa aegyptiaca (not funny) plants? Technically, its a Gourd. Which is definitely top 5 material for funniest words of all time. Oh, and maybe the word Curd. I can't buy cottage cheese without laughing. I also believe it is theoretically impossible for someone to look cool while saying those words. They're too funny. Something about the way the R and the D work together. I can't explain it. But if someone did explain it then it wouldn't be funny anymore. And then I'd be bummed at that person. Come on man, just let the words be funny! Why do you have to be so stinking literal???

--finn

and so it begins...

Today I grew suspicious of my loofah. I know what you're thinking... you've been there yourself. Its time we spoke of it. How do we reconcile the loofah? What makes him so great, so special, so... magical... if you will, that we can take something that is dirty, rub a frilly piece of plastic over it and what? Its CLEAN?! Yeah, maybe the first time. But! What about the next time? Or even the time after that? What keeps the loofah clean? Is there perhaps another loofah that comes and takes care of him? Does HE have a loofah? WHAT WASHES A LOOFAH!! Yes, of course I know soap is involved Genius! Prepare for devastating logic: Do you know what soap does to the walls of a shower? That's right, it creates soap scum. How can anything that is a primary component of something called SCUM be so pure and honest that it is the determining factor in cleanliness. Do you know what is in soap scum besides soap. You don't want to know and neither do I. Just thinking about it gives me the creeps. This I believe proves your indoctrination into loofah mind control. Oh, don't act like I'm the crazy one. Let's take an honest look at the make-up of the loofah. (and don't think I haven't looked this up on Wikipedia) The aspect of loofahs that make them so effective is the extreme amount of surface area. Each one of those tiny strands of plastic contains millions of square inches. As these millions rub against one another it creates lather faster than your two little hands rubbing at the speed of light. And do you know what else it creates? The perception that you are doing something beneficial. Mind control. I don't mean to get so scientific on you but it needed to be said. Now what is the shelf life of a loofah? WE NEED TO FIGURE THIS OUT! One shower? Two? THREE?!! Now you're just being ridiculous. And now I know what you're thinking... does this guy work for the loofah people?? Get a hold of yourself man! You're slipping back in! I will not sit here and let you go another day rubbing that disgusting piece of plastic on yourself and walk around like somehow you are not perpetuating the very notion that loofahs and all loofah kind are slowly killing us. Because if we aren't clean then what are we? GIANT LOOFAHS! If you want to break free you can join me, Mr. Clean, the Scrubbing Bubbles, that lady from the Pine Sol commercial and Mrs. Butterworth (yeah, she's on board... nice lady) we're taking on the loofah machine ourselves.

Who's coming with me?

--finn