A collection of stories and pictures your mother would probably frown upon.
Friday, May 31, 2013
It's Almost The WEEKEND!!!
Let's be careful out there this weekend. However, just in case you are going to get totally nuts, make sure you heed the sage advice of Ryan Stiles......
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4:01 AM
Thursday, May 30, 2013
WHAT? On Second Thought That Is AWESOME!
What "Child of the 80's" hasn't wanted to buy a 1969 Dodge Charger and turn it into the General Lee from the Dukes of Hazzard??? I know I did. Hell...I'd do it now if I had disposable income.
This guy took a 2013 Dodge Charger, and made it look like the General Lee that got a bad paint job to hide it's identity...then part of the bad paint washed off in the rain. (This actually happened in one particular episode). Although this is real.
Must be nice to have that kind of money to burn to do this.
This guy took a 2013 Dodge Charger, and made it look like the General Lee that got a bad paint job to hide it's identity...then part of the bad paint washed off in the rain. (This actually happened in one particular episode). Although this is real.
Must be nice to have that kind of money to burn to do this.
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
3:33 PM
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Ready For Some BRACKFAS?
I would have no problems buying food from this guy. The best part is they spelled the word "burritos" correctly.
(image credit: My friend "Rick")
(image credit: My friend "Rick")
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
12:05 PM
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
In Case You Forgot....Ron Swanson Still Hates Salad
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4:01 AM
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Ron Swanson
Monday, May 27, 2013
Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 70
The Time Mookie Might Have Corrupted His Little Sister
Due to the Memorial Day weekend and my generally crazy week - this one is late....and is pretty short. I apologize, and will have one posted at the regular time next week....
This one goes back MANY years, back to when I was in high school. Once I got my driver's license and sort of proved to my parents that I wouldn't kill anyone, they started letting me drive to school. However, much like most older kids- I was tasked with driving my younger sisters to and from school each day while on my way to school. To a normal high school student, this job definitely sucked. But since my parents were letting me use THEIR cars, I had little room to complain.
One particular day after school, I had to pick up my youngest sister "Marina. (*)" Even though she and I are like 7-8 years apart, we have always gotten along pretty good. For some reason I think she thought I was cool ( I was ) so that definitely helped. It had been raining that day so everything was really wet, and there were puddles everywhere. I pulled up to her school and she jumped in the front seat of our Dad's awesome Ford Bronco. We had the windows down, the radio turned up, and we were headed for home.
As we were cruising up the street, I noticed up ahead that there was some kid walking along the curb towards us. I thought it was weird she wasn't up on the sidewalk, but figured she was playing in the water along the gutter or something. Marina was sitting up in her seat and taking in the scenery when we closed in on this girl along the edge of the street. Just as we got to this girl, I noticed we were going to be driving through a fairly large puddle - and there was no way around it. I tried by best to slow down, but apparently it was of little help as I heard the water splash the undercarriage of the car.
As I dreadfully looked into my mirrors with a hope that I somehow didn't soak this poor kid, I heard a scream of laughter from my passenger seat. I look over at Marina who is sitting there LAUGHING and rocking back and forth in her seat. "YOU GOT HER! YOU GOT HER!" she screamed.
From my mirrors I could tell we just sort of splashed the kid and didn't totally douche her, but I still felt bad. I tried to explain to Marina that I didn't mean to get the girl wet, but she didn't care - She thought it was hilarious.
So while it was nice that I amused the hell out of my sister, I totally felt bad that I splashed this helpless kid in the street (who should have been up on the GD sidewalk). Plus I knew that Marina was going to go home and proudly tell Mom and Dad we splashed the hell out of some kid on the street. It was a safe bet from there my mother would probably "middle name" me (you know - when your mom calls you your first and middle name as a way of shaming you), and my Dad would sternly look at me over the top of his glasses. I'm sure the usual lecture followed where I was reminded that my sisters looked up to me, and how I should work to set a good example for them......blah blah blah.
If anything, after all those years.....my sisters probably learned what NOT to do in life by simply watching what I did. So because of that....you can't totally say that I set a "bad example" growing up. It was just an "example." They could choose what to do with it, and as far as I know....they turned out OK. Mostly.
To this day though, whenever I remember this little incident I can't help feel badly for the girl we probably got wet that day. But I also have to smile when I picture my sister sitting there smiling, hopping up and down in her seat and laughing....because dammit....unintentional or not.....that was funny.
(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent
Due to the Memorial Day weekend and my generally crazy week - this one is late....and is pretty short. I apologize, and will have one posted at the regular time next week....
This one goes back MANY years, back to when I was in high school. Once I got my driver's license and sort of proved to my parents that I wouldn't kill anyone, they started letting me drive to school. However, much like most older kids- I was tasked with driving my younger sisters to and from school each day while on my way to school. To a normal high school student, this job definitely sucked. But since my parents were letting me use THEIR cars, I had little room to complain.
One particular day after school, I had to pick up my youngest sister "Marina. (*)" Even though she and I are like 7-8 years apart, we have always gotten along pretty good. For some reason I think she thought I was cool ( I was ) so that definitely helped. It had been raining that day so everything was really wet, and there were puddles everywhere. I pulled up to her school and she jumped in the front seat of our Dad's awesome Ford Bronco. We had the windows down, the radio turned up, and we were headed for home.
As we were cruising up the street, I noticed up ahead that there was some kid walking along the curb towards us. I thought it was weird she wasn't up on the sidewalk, but figured she was playing in the water along the gutter or something. Marina was sitting up in her seat and taking in the scenery when we closed in on this girl along the edge of the street. Just as we got to this girl, I noticed we were going to be driving through a fairly large puddle - and there was no way around it. I tried by best to slow down, but apparently it was of little help as I heard the water splash the undercarriage of the car.
As I dreadfully looked into my mirrors with a hope that I somehow didn't soak this poor kid, I heard a scream of laughter from my passenger seat. I look over at Marina who is sitting there LAUGHING and rocking back and forth in her seat. "YOU GOT HER! YOU GOT HER!" she screamed.
![]() |
Look out you bastards! Here we come! |
From my mirrors I could tell we just sort of splashed the kid and didn't totally douche her, but I still felt bad. I tried to explain to Marina that I didn't mean to get the girl wet, but she didn't care - She thought it was hilarious.
So while it was nice that I amused the hell out of my sister, I totally felt bad that I splashed this helpless kid in the street (who should have been up on the GD sidewalk). Plus I knew that Marina was going to go home and proudly tell Mom and Dad we splashed the hell out of some kid on the street. It was a safe bet from there my mother would probably "middle name" me (you know - when your mom calls you your first and middle name as a way of shaming you), and my Dad would sternly look at me over the top of his glasses. I'm sure the usual lecture followed where I was reminded that my sisters looked up to me, and how I should work to set a good example for them......blah blah blah.
If anything, after all those years.....my sisters probably learned what NOT to do in life by simply watching what I did. So because of that....you can't totally say that I set a "bad example" growing up. It was just an "example." They could choose what to do with it, and as far as I know....they turned out OK. Mostly.
To this day though, whenever I remember this little incident I can't help feel badly for the girl we probably got wet that day. But I also have to smile when I picture my sister sitting there smiling, hopping up and down in her seat and laughing....because dammit....unintentional or not.....that was funny.
(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
4:01 AM
Labels:
Monday Morning
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Graduation Speech
With a lot of graduation ceremonies this weekend, I wondered what I would say if I were ever asked to speak at some school's commencement (Hey it could happen).
I've decided I would quote the legendary Coach Bobby Finstock from the movie "Teen Wolf:"
"There are three rules that I live by:
Never get less than twelve hours sleep;
Never play cards with a guy who has the same first name as a city;
And never go near a lady who's got a tattoo of a dagger on her body.
Now you stick to that, and everything else is cream cheese."
I've decided I would quote the legendary Coach Bobby Finstock from the movie "Teen Wolf:"
"There are three rules that I live by:
Never get less than twelve hours sleep;
Never play cards with a guy who has the same first name as a city;
And never go near a lady who's got a tattoo of a dagger on her body.
Now you stick to that, and everything else is cream cheese."
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
5:05 AM
Friday, May 24, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Ron Swanson Does Not Support Government Handouts
Posted by
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4:01 AM
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Ron Swanson
Monday, May 20, 2013
Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 69
The Time Mookie Bought Lottery Scratch Tickets
The recent $600 Million Powerball craziness reminded me of this fun story from WAY back in the day.... so I decided that I should share this one ......
Back in high school, my friend "Rick (*)" worked at one of the pharmacies in the town where we both lived. It was your standard part-time high school job; the duties mainly consisted of working the front counter, and driving the "company car" to deliver medical necessities to the local hospital and nursing home. Like most kids, Rick liked to "exploit" any loopholes or services their occupations afforded them, and then offer these things to his friends as well. For example: One of the things Rick did as "a service" to all his friends at school, he let it be known that if anyone needed to discreetly pick up some condoms - he was their guy. He said to just let him know beforehand, and then you could stop by the store and pick them up. That's customer service for ya. It definitely beat getting the stink-eye from some middle-aged broad who you knew was totally passing judgement on you while she rang you up.
Plus - since it was a small town - the odds were good the old broad knew who you were, who your parents were, who you were dating, and who your girlfriend's parents were. From there it was a sure bet that it wouldn't be long before your girlfriend's parents found out what you purchased, and that you had every intent of probably banging their daughter Saturday night. We'll call this "Reason #302 why small towns suck."
Another nice thing Rick had access to while working there was the ability to order music for you. Not long after Rick started working there, the pharmacy owner decided the store needed to start selling music CD's. At that time, this was huge for me because you couldn't buy music anywhere in our crap-ass town. The owner even tasked Rick with selecting some of the music they would be selling in the store. Rick naturally selected the popular music all the kids were listening to, and proceeded to fill most of the 4-sided rack with his selections. He did however bow to management's requests and made some selections that catered to the older folks in the community as well (Curse you Billy Ray Cyrus). The prices were competitive with the music stores in towns 30 miles away, and if Rick didn't have what you wanted in the store - he could order it. This was real nice.
Along with this upswing in the coolness of selling music, the pharmacy also began selling lottery scratch tickets. At that time I was still under the legal age to buy lottery tickets, so I hadn't yet experienced the thrill of pseudo-legal gambling. Much to my delight and surprise, Rick told me that if I came in on some Thursday night - he would hook me up since he would be working the front counter alone those nights.
Booyah. You can't beat a friend that is willing to bend the law a bit for you.
Needless to say, the next Thursday night after he told me this - I made my way down to the pharmacy with the sole intent of getting me some scratch tickets. When I walked into the store, I saw that Rick was busy ringing up some existing customers, so I loitered around waiting for Rick to finish up with them before stepping up to the counter. Finally, when he was done I briskly walked up to the counter to make my purchase. He instantly started smiling because he knew what I was there for - and he knew it was not for condoms.
I layed five dollars on the counter and said "I'd like five lottery tickets please."
He did a quick look towards the back of the pharmacy where the medicine counter was, and made sure the coast was clear of anyone with any real authority. When he saw that we were good, he reached under the counter and tore off five lottery tickets, took the money and handed me the tickets. I dug into my pocket for whatever coin I had and EAGERLY started scratching. In reading the directions, it stated that you had to match three of the same icons on the ticket to win whatever that prize was. Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. Next one: Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. Next one: Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. LAST ONE: Scratch-scratch-Scratch....BOOYAH! We have a winner! TWO BUCKS! Hell yeah. Naturally I did what any dirty gambler would do when presented with a win: I decided to "let it ride." I turned in my "winning" ticket and Rick gave me two more tickets for my scratching delight. I scratched those bad boys off and thought for sure one of them would pay off again, but as luck would have it - I struck out. Even though I was technically a loser, from the standpoint of entertainment I thought it was five bucks well spent. I told Rick that I would certainly be back again in the near future.
Not long after that, I again visited Rick at his pharmacy check-out post and discreetly purchased another five bucks in lottery tickets. I started scratching like last time, and just when I thought my fate was going to mirror my last losing scratch adventure..... I noticed the ticket I was holding had 3 matching $15.00 icons staring back at me. Oooohh yeah. Fifteen big ones! Rick was mildly impressed at my windfall this time around, and asked me if I wanted to "let it ride" again. I thought hard about it for a minute, but in the end a rationale head prevailed and I decided that I should spend this money wisely this time.
So I bought a CD instead.
"What CD did I buy?" you ask? "Cooleyhighharmony" by Boyz II Men.
Definitely money well spent.
Now while I continued to enjoy the low-stakes gambling with Rick at the pharmacy from time to time, I have to say that I did not make a big habit of it. In the end, I knew that it was more-or-less just a waste of money. Plus the fun and thrill of scratching tickets really loses its luster after losing three or four times in a row. In hindsight though, I have to admit the feeling that I had the first time I scratched those tickets is the very same feeling I have now whenever I step up to a blackjack table. Its quite a thrill, and I can definitely understand why that "rush" of excitement causes some people get out of control when they gamble. When they are sitting there going "This time! I'm going to win this time! THIS TIME!"......I get it. I totally get it. In the end though, you just have to know and expect that you are NOT going to win. That way you keep a level head about you so that you don't lose everything. Always remember: The house always wins. Always.
So if you don't have a lot of money to gamble with, always play within your means. Save some for later and don't spend it all at the tables.
Especially when you never know you might need to buy some condoms.
(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.
The recent $600 Million Powerball craziness reminded me of this fun story from WAY back in the day.... so I decided that I should share this one ......
Back in high school, my friend "Rick (*)" worked at one of the pharmacies in the town where we both lived. It was your standard part-time high school job; the duties mainly consisted of working the front counter, and driving the "company car" to deliver medical necessities to the local hospital and nursing home. Like most kids, Rick liked to "exploit" any loopholes or services their occupations afforded them, and then offer these things to his friends as well. For example: One of the things Rick did as "a service" to all his friends at school, he let it be known that if anyone needed to discreetly pick up some condoms - he was their guy. He said to just let him know beforehand, and then you could stop by the store and pick them up. That's customer service for ya. It definitely beat getting the stink-eye from some middle-aged broad who you knew was totally passing judgement on you while she rang you up.
Plus - since it was a small town - the odds were good the old broad knew who you were, who your parents were, who you were dating, and who your girlfriend's parents were. From there it was a sure bet that it wouldn't be long before your girlfriend's parents found out what you purchased, and that you had every intent of probably banging their daughter Saturday night. We'll call this "Reason #302 why small towns suck."
Another nice thing Rick had access to while working there was the ability to order music for you. Not long after Rick started working there, the pharmacy owner decided the store needed to start selling music CD's. At that time, this was huge for me because you couldn't buy music anywhere in our crap-ass town. The owner even tasked Rick with selecting some of the music they would be selling in the store. Rick naturally selected the popular music all the kids were listening to, and proceeded to fill most of the 4-sided rack with his selections. He did however bow to management's requests and made some selections that catered to the older folks in the community as well (Curse you Billy Ray Cyrus). The prices were competitive with the music stores in towns 30 miles away, and if Rick didn't have what you wanted in the store - he could order it. This was real nice.
Along with this upswing in the coolness of selling music, the pharmacy also began selling lottery scratch tickets. At that time I was still under the legal age to buy lottery tickets, so I hadn't yet experienced the thrill of pseudo-legal gambling. Much to my delight and surprise, Rick told me that if I came in on some Thursday night - he would hook me up since he would be working the front counter alone those nights.
Booyah. You can't beat a friend that is willing to bend the law a bit for you.
Needless to say, the next Thursday night after he told me this - I made my way down to the pharmacy with the sole intent of getting me some scratch tickets. When I walked into the store, I saw that Rick was busy ringing up some existing customers, so I loitered around waiting for Rick to finish up with them before stepping up to the counter. Finally, when he was done I briskly walked up to the counter to make my purchase. He instantly started smiling because he knew what I was there for - and he knew it was not for condoms.
He did a quick look towards the back of the pharmacy where the medicine counter was, and made sure the coast was clear of anyone with any real authority. When he saw that we were good, he reached under the counter and tore off five lottery tickets, took the money and handed me the tickets. I dug into my pocket for whatever coin I had and EAGERLY started scratching. In reading the directions, it stated that you had to match three of the same icons on the ticket to win whatever that prize was. Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. Next one: Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. Next one: Scratch-scratch-scratch....nothing. LAST ONE: Scratch-scratch-Scratch....BOOYAH! We have a winner! TWO BUCKS! Hell yeah. Naturally I did what any dirty gambler would do when presented with a win: I decided to "let it ride." I turned in my "winning" ticket and Rick gave me two more tickets for my scratching delight. I scratched those bad boys off and thought for sure one of them would pay off again, but as luck would have it - I struck out. Even though I was technically a loser, from the standpoint of entertainment I thought it was five bucks well spent. I told Rick that I would certainly be back again in the near future.
Not long after that, I again visited Rick at his pharmacy check-out post and discreetly purchased another five bucks in lottery tickets. I started scratching like last time, and just when I thought my fate was going to mirror my last losing scratch adventure..... I noticed the ticket I was holding had 3 matching $15.00 icons staring back at me. Oooohh yeah. Fifteen big ones! Rick was mildly impressed at my windfall this time around, and asked me if I wanted to "let it ride" again. I thought hard about it for a minute, but in the end a rationale head prevailed and I decided that I should spend this money wisely this time.
So I bought a CD instead.
"What CD did I buy?" you ask? "Cooleyhighharmony" by Boyz II Men.
Definitely money well spent.
Now while I continued to enjoy the low-stakes gambling with Rick at the pharmacy from time to time, I have to say that I did not make a big habit of it. In the end, I knew that it was more-or-less just a waste of money. Plus the fun and thrill of scratching tickets really loses its luster after losing three or four times in a row. In hindsight though, I have to admit the feeling that I had the first time I scratched those tickets is the very same feeling I have now whenever I step up to a blackjack table. Its quite a thrill, and I can definitely understand why that "rush" of excitement causes some people get out of control when they gamble. When they are sitting there going "This time! I'm going to win this time! THIS TIME!"......I get it. I totally get it. In the end though, you just have to know and expect that you are NOT going to win. That way you keep a level head about you so that you don't lose everything. Always remember: The house always wins. Always.
So if you don't have a lot of money to gamble with, always play within your means. Save some for later and don't spend it all at the tables.
Especially when you never know you might need to buy some condoms.
(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
4:01 AM
Labels:
Monday Morning
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
What Do You Do When Your Woman Won't Make You A Sandwich?
Thursday, May 16, 2013
"The Office" Finale Tonight!
The series finale of "The Office" is on tonight, and I hope they go out with a bang. The show has not been the same since Michael Scott (played by Steve Carell) left a few seasons ago. This season has been a stretch at best, although they have had a few good episodes towards the end here.
One thing I will definitely miss are the antics between Jim and Dwight. Just classic stuff. I just hope Michael can come back and let out one more "That's what she said" though.
They should end the show that way.
One thing I will definitely miss are the antics between Jim and Dwight. Just classic stuff. I just hope Michael can come back and let out one more "That's what she said" though.
They should end the show that way.
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4:01 PM
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,
tv
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Ron Swanson Is Not Afraid Of Any Breakfast
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4:01 AM
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Monday, May 13, 2013
Monday Morning Story With Mookie - Episode 68
The Time Mookie Saw The Hottest Band In The World: KISS
I have been to many concerts over the years, and have seen lots of great shows. To this day though, there is one concert I attended that still stands above and beyond all of the others I have seen. That concert was by the group KISS on their 2000-2001 "Farewell Tour." This show lived up to the hype like no other concert could, and frankly - it blew the doors off anything I had ever seen before.
The show was dubbed the "Farewell Tour" because it was supposedly the last time KISS was ever going to tour and perform again. In the end, this "farewell" turned out to be only partially true as it was in fact the last tour for the band's original lineup of Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Ace Frehley, and Peter Criss. (The version of KISS that continues to record and perform to this day features Simmons, Stanley, plus new members - drummer Eric Singer, and guitarist Tommy Thayer.
The venue was the old Five Seasons Center in Cedar Rapids, IA which had a max capacity of around 8,500-9,000 people in the "general admission" format. When I arrived at the venue early to get in line, I could not believe what I was seeing: The line to get into the building went from the back door where they let people in, circled all the way around the building, and then went another two blocks past the venue. I had only seen one other sold-out show at this venue prior to this (Van Halen), but that situation was nothing like this. This was incredible.
Once inside the venue, the crowd was at a fever pitch waiting for the show to start. Unfortunately it was going to be awhile before KISS performed as there were two opening acts. The opening acts you see at most concerts are groups/artists just starting out, or are ones who are just starting to get popular. In this case though, both performers were well-known rock-veterans: Skid Row and Ted Nugent. Each group came out and tore the place up. I remember thinking that Skid Row and Nugent each put on a show that was so good it was as though they were headlining the concert. It only increased the anticipation of how good the KISS show should be, because nobody on their "farewell tour" should be upstaged by their opening acts.
As they were setting the stage for KISS, I became aware of how full of people the arena was, and for some reason it seemed like way more people than I saw at the other sold-out concert I had attended. Perhaps it was just the general excitement in the air over this being the "last time" we would see KISS perform, or the festive attitude of all the people in their own KISS make-up and costumes.
In the usual concert procedure, as the minutes went by the house music got louder and louder. Eventually the stage crew put up a black floor-to-ceiling curtain clear around the stage so that you couldn't see the stage. All you could see was this curtain that said "KISS" on it. Finally, the music stopped and the place went totally dark. All I could excitedly think was "Oh boy here we go."
Moving spotlights began waving back and forth across the curtain, and a loud voice came over the P.A. that yelled: "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! YOU WANTED THE BEST! YOU GOT THE BEST! THE HOTTEST BAND IN THE WORLD! KISS!!!"
The curtain dropped to the floor, and the stage was bathed in very bright lighting. Suspended from the rafters was a descending platform in which Gene, Paul, and Ace were standing in their full make-up and costumes while playing the opening riffs to their song "Detroit Rock City." Behind them on a suspended drum riser was Peter beating his drums and setting the beat of the song. At the end of each riff, deafening and brilliant pyrotechnics would explode all around the stage. It was clear to everyone in attendance that KISS had come to put on a show, and they were pulling out all the stops. KISS was definitely not going to be upstaged.
The show continued on with the band playing hit after hit song, and it seemed as though the capacity crowd sang every single word along with them. Each song also carried with it an array of visual overload. Behind the stage was a huge video monitor that showed up-close video of the performance, as well as special concert-made video production. There was also continued pyro, fire, lasers, flashing lights, and then in the crowd…there were the ladies who apparently "lost" their shirts. Many of them were up on the shoulders of willing concert-goers, showing the band (and everyone else) their "appreciation" of the great music. While I had seen women occasionally "flash" the band at numerous concerts in the past, I had not seen numerous girls go totally topless. It was wild.
KISS played all the hits from all eras of the band: the make-up years, the different members in make-up years, the "no make-up" years, and then their eventual reunion. The best part was that they played it well. They sounded musically tight, and the acoustics were spot on - which is hard to do sometimes when they are playing at the volume they were.
They also pulled out all their old tricks:
- During Ace's guitar solo, he shot things from the guitar that exploded in the rafters, and then his guitar started smoking and drifted out of his hands up to the rafters.
- During a short solo, Peter's drum riser elevated a good distance above the stage with smoke and fire emitting below it.
- Paul flew on a cable across the arena to a small stage at the back and performed a song. Then he flew back.
- Gene did his fire blowing trick, and also did the blood coming out of his mouth thing.
It was all Classic KISS.
They ended the show with "Black Diamond," but the crowd knew there was more and let the band know it. Much to the delight of the crowd, Peter came back out by himself and performed the ballad "Beth" to a recorded piano track. When he was done, the rest of the band returned to the stage and told everyone they wanted to "Rock and Roll All Night and Party Everyday!" They kicked into the classic KISS staple and the place erupted in confetti. Each side of the stage had huge cannons that continually blew massive amounts of confetti over the crowd for the entire song. The entire crowd was on their feet and singing along to the rock anthem.
Finally, they ended the song with enough pyro to stage a small-town fireworks show. There were fireworks shot off all over the stage, flames, flashing lights, and smoke blowing everywhere. It was truly unlike anything I had ever seen before. With a final musical flourish, the band ended the song. They then took their well-deserved bows in front of the KISS Army for the "last time," and left the stage.
As I left the venue with my ears ringing like never before, I remember thinking that was the best show I had ever seen and would probably ever see. Today, I still feel the same way. KISS put on one hell of a show, and truly went beyond any expectation of what a concert could be. It was amazing.
(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.
Catch up on previous episodes of Monday Morning Stories With Mookie! Click HERE!
Posted by
Mookie5150
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Monday Morning
Saturday, May 11, 2013
The Choices We Make In Life
Sometimes the choices we make in life are not easy, and all we can do is hope we made the right choice.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say who ever did this made a bold choice.
I'm going to go out on a limb and say who ever did this made a bold choice.
Posted by
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at
12:01 PM
Friday, May 10, 2013
Thursday, May 09, 2013
Wednesday, May 08, 2013
Tuesday, May 07, 2013
Nobody Tells Ron Swanson Where He Can Fart
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Monday, May 06, 2013
Monday Morning Stories With Mookie - Episode 67
The Time Mookie Yelled At An Old Woman
Yep, you read that right - Mookie yelled at an old woman. Why did I yell at an old woman? Well sit down and I will tell you why I did it...and best of all....why I would totally do it again. Sadly...it wasn't because I enjoyed it....it was because dammit....I care.
(Side note: This episode almost serves as a "part two" to last week's episode. Last week my story was about getting yelled at by the elderly. This week my story is about yelling at the elderly. Circle of life you know.)
When my wife and I bought our house, we were advised by the
previous owner that the old lady living
next door - “Gertie(*)” - was a bit on
the crazy and cranky side. Its
common-knowledge that old people are cranky and eccentric anyway, so we figured we’d try to make the best of the situation
when we came to it. Even still, I
couldn’t help but wondering if we were going to end up having a “Winchester(*)” -type-situation on our hands.
For the first few years we lived in our new
home, we rarely saw the old lady. If we did see her outside, she made no effort to
greet us, acknowledge us, or even recognize our presence. There were times we would see her sitting
outside on her porch and we’d wave at her to be friendly, but she never
returned our wave. She would just sit
and stare us down with a cold and intense glare. One could argue that maybe she thought we were mocking her or something (sometimes we were, but that’s not
the point - our original intent was nice). So we sort of accepted the fact our old-lady-neighbor was an anti-social crazy lady. To make matters worse, over the years we had also heard stories about Gertie and her "past" from other people in the community. This did nothing to nullify our suspicions about the apparent level of "crazy" that was residing next door either.
A few winters came and went,
and each time it snowed I would try be a "good neighbor" and continue shoveling the
sidewalk from my house all the way down past her house to her driveway. HOWEVER - If for some reason she shoveled her sidewalk
before I was able to get outside, she would shovel EXACTLY to the crack in the
sidewalk that was understood to be the property line. Not past it - RIGHT TO IT. Not even so much as a scrape on our side of
the property line. It was hilarious and bizarre all at the same time.
Oddly enough, the surgical precision she exercised in
her lot-line snow removal was NOT utilized during the summer with her mowing technique. There were times when we swore she had to have
been drunk when she mowed because her path up the property line between our
yards was all over the place. Sometimes
she would end up mowing against our garage - which is easily 5 feet from the
edge of her yard. Normally I wouldn't care if she strayed into our yard, but because she mowed the grass so short - it would almost always get torched and die in the hot summer
sun.
Even still, it was hysterical seeing the
wobbly line she made between the yards.
Another humorous tidbit about her mowing was her wardrobe. No matter how
hot it was - she either wore long pants or weird shorts that went past her knees, a white
long-sleeved button up shirt, and a sweat-band on her head. She already had greasy-straight white hair,
so it was extra-funny seeing it pasted down even further under the sweat band. Between the sweatband and her hunched over mowing
style, it led us to make jokes about how she was probably secretly a super hero or
a nighttime ninja or something. We pictured her hunched over, sneaking through the neighborhood, fighting crime under the cover of
darkness, and giving out hard candy to the neighborhood children who needed one.
"Ninja Gertie" sneaking down the side of her house. |
Then finally! On New
Year’s Day after probably 5 years of living there, Gertie finally said
something to me. I was out shoveling off
some freshly-fallen snow, when off in the distance I heard in a weird-old-lady
voice: “Mr. Mookie!” I stopped shoveling
for a moment and wondered where that came from.
Again I hear “Mr. Mookie!” I look
over towards Gertie’s house and see her on her front steps waving at me. I turned to see if my Dad was standing behind me or something, because no one had seriously ever addressed me as "Mister" before. I started walking towards
Gertie wondering what she wanted, and truth-be-told.... my previous experiences with old people led me to believe I was probably going to get my ass chewed over something.
“Mr. Mookie! My name
is Gertie, and I wanted to thank you for shoveling my walk all these
times.” Slightly taken aback at her
sudden conversation and gratitude, I told her she was welcome and that I didn’t
mind doing it. She continued on, and
talked my ear off for a good thirty minutes telling me vague details of her
life, how long she lived there, and how she was proud that she was 81 years old
and still able to mow/shovel. She felt
the need to tell me she was quite healthy, and didn’t take any meds of any
kind. OOO-K then. Plus when she talked, it was almost at a yelling volume. It was obvious she was a bit deaf, so I almost had to yell when talking back. We eventually concluded our conversation, and
my wife was shocked when I went inside and told her about the new friend I had made.
Over the next several years, conversation was shared
intermittently between her and one of us.
Each time she would mostly re-tell the information she had previously mentioned (80+ years
old, being able to take care of herself, and how she had been by herself for
many years). I often let her carry on - so as not to seem rude - but also because on occasion she
would let out nuggets of
information that she hadn’t previously told us about. Often times these nuggets would (unbeknownst to her) confirm or deny the rumors we had heard about her. Sadly, ALL the stories I
heard turned out to be true. While this information basically confirmed for us that she was indeed totally crazy, it was hard not to feel bad for this lady based on what had happened to her in life. Here’s a few of the biggies:
* Her first husband
went missing in action during World War II, was never found and eventually
declared dead.
* To make that
situation even sadder, she was pregnant at the time with their 1st
child (a daughter).
* She later married
Husband #2, and had some kids with him. He turned out to be a raging alcoholic and rumored womanizer.
then
* Husband #2 ended up
hanging himself in their basement.
Naturally when things like this happen in a small community
– people like to gossip. She never
elaborated on what people said about her, but she said she “knew” people “talked” about
her. Then she would stand there and
bad-mouth everyone in town for anything and everything. Sometimes I felt badly for her, but sometimes I wanted to say “Wow Gertie.
Bitter much?” I figured she thought
people said she was a bad wife or that she was the real reason her husband
killed himself. Whether this was true or
not I do not know. What I DO know is that all of this drama had shaped her into a sad and bitter old woman.
As the years continued by, the conversations with Gertie were less-frequent, but increasingly more strange. Eventually the conversations would become strange and then confrontational. Example: One day she struck up a conversation with my
wife, only to dismissively tell her that we needed to “do something” about the
weeds in our yard. Gertie felt that any
weeds in her yard were there because they had moved from our yard. My wife politely told her that we already put
stuff down a few times a year, and that we wouldn't pay a professional
lawn care guy to treat our yard just to keep weeds out of her yard. You can imagine that did not sit well.
To combat the apparent weed infiltration from our yard, Gertie started doing “spot treatment” on the weeds in her
yard. She would take Round Up and spray
spots in the yard where there were weeds and dandelions growing. BUT as you know - Round Up kills everything –
weeds AND grass. The end result (naturally) was
yellow/brown dead spots all over her yard.
In her quest to kill the weeds, her activities carried her
over into our yard where she sprayed weeds there as well. So like her yard, our yard had a few random dead
spots too. Whether it was intentional, or if she was just hyper-focused on weeds in general - I do not know. I just know we didn't care much for the dead spots.
Then one winter we hit a stretch for about a
week were it was butt-ass cold. I’m
talking minus-10 to minus-20 overnight.
The way Gertie’s house was situated next to ours, we had a clear view of
her back door whenever we went out to our garage. One morning during this cold stretch, I
noticed Gertie’s back door was ajar 3 or 4 inches. I knew this door led into her back porch area
where you could go down into her basement, or up some steps to another door
that went into her house.. I didn’t know if she was in the garage or something
(ninja reconnaissance), so I didn’t think much of it and headed to work. The next day, I noticed the door was still
open. Adding to the mix, I noticed the
windows on the house were more frosty-looking than usual. While I definitely wondered what was going
on, I didn’t want to be meddlesome so I left things alone and went to
work. The next day I again came out to go to
work and the door was still open. It was
wicked cold that previous night, and all the windows on her house were frosted
over big time. I stood there for a
minute and knew I should do something, but I didn’t know what. I wasn’t going to go in the back door because
that wouldn’t look good. Plus it was
early in the morning, so I didn’t want to go and knock on the door. I decided that when I got to work I would make
some calls and make sure things were OK.
When I got to work, the first thing I did was look up her
number and call her house. Ring. Ring. Ring.
I let it ring like 10 times and there was no answer. Shhiiiiiitttt. My thought was "That's great...she's dead in there."
So I thought I should let the authorities know what
I saw, and ask if they could do a “wellness check” on her. I called the police and they were more than
happy to check it out after I told them what I had been seeing. I hung up and called my wife - who happened to be home that day - and told her to peek out the windows and watch for when the cops come to Gertie's. Sure enough, while we were on the phone together a squad car pulled up and an officer went to Gertie's door to check things out. From my wife's vantage point, she said she could tell Gertie had opened the door and spoke with the officer. Whew. She wasn't dead. The cops then quietly left, and that was that. While I knew I had done nothing wrong, I had a feeling that Gertie would probably think otherwise and wondered if I had an ass chewing coming my way.
THEN. A few months later on a warm spring day, my family and I were outside working in the yard when Gertie decided to pay me a visit. From across the yard I hear "Mr. Mookie!" My first thought was "Oh shit here we go." She came up to me and said she wanted to thank me for looking out for her and making sure she was OK. Pleased (and shocked) that she wasn't pissed, I explained what I saw and why I did what I did. From this, she seemed genuinely grateful that someone cared enough to check on her. She thanked me again and went back into her house. Wow. I have to admit I felt good knowing I did the right thing.
Less than ten minutes had went by when I noticed she (again) was coming back across the yard. I stopped raking to see what she wanted, and out of no where she UNLOADED on me. "YOU KEEP YOUR NOSE OUT OF MY BUSINESS! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU CALLED THE COPS ON ME! I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF! MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! I WILL NEVER FALL DOWN AND GET HURT!" She went on and on as I stood there in disbelief. This lady had just profusely thanked me, and NOW she's screaming at me? WTF? I tried to explain my situation again, but it was apparent I was talking to a "different" Gertie than I was 10 minutes ago. Her tirade seemed to go on forever. Finally, in a huff she went back home. My wife - who was a safe distance away with the kids came over and was like "WTF was that?" I was still shell-shocked and had no idea.
But it didn't stop there. Another 10 minutes or so went by, and I happened to be in the garage doing something while my wife and the kids were on the driveway playing. Gertie came storming back across the yard again, this time addressing my wife. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOUR HUSBAND DID??? HE CALLED THE COPS ON ME!!"
That was it. It was time to throw down.
I came out of the garage and totally caught her off guard. Very loudly - I said "Gertie, you NEED TO GO HOME." She started in on me again, and I cut her off and yelled "Fine. I'm sorry I cared enough to check and make sure you were alright. I'm sorry I thought you were laying in your house hurt or dead." She continued her "Nobody needs to care about me, I can care for myself" rant, when I said "You know what Gertie? I called the police for your kids and grand kids. I couldn't bear the thought to know some one's Mother or Grandma was laying somewhere hurt and possibly frozen. I called for them because I didn't want them to have to find you like that." This stopped her for a second, and then she continued on berating me. I noticed that my kids were huddled around my wife, and it was because Gertie was scaring them with her yelling. I finally said "Gertie, you need to take your ass home. You are scaring my kids! Go home." At first she didn't even realize my kids were there (or scared), second she did not like me cursing at her. Finally she went home, ranting the whole way.
After that, we never talked again. Enemies forever. Much like my Dad and Winchester.
I knew in my heart what I did was right, and that if that were my Grandmother, I'd want someone to do the same for her. It still bothered me that she hated me though. I did feel bad that I told her to "take her ass home," but I could have said a lot worse.
Sadly, her health took a major turn in the coming year after that. She fell walking somewhere and busted up her face really bad. In the fallout from that, her family descended upon her house and realized she was not taking care of herself at all. Bathing, laundry, and eating were not being done like it should have been. While she was in the hospital after her fall, the doctors told Gertie's kids that she had Alzheimer's, and it had progressed beyond a point of any real intervention.
For the next several weeks, one of Gertie's children was at the house 24/7. It was that bad. At one point, when I was outside working one day one of her daughter-in-laws came over and made a point of telling me what was going on, even though they said they "knew" Gertie and I didn't get along.
It was then I felt the need to tell her "my side" of the story, and what I saw and did that caused Gertie to be pissed. They were shocked. I also re-told the story to her son when he was staying there. They all thanked me, and apologized for her behavior as she wasn't in her right mind. I said that I appreciated that, and that while it was sad news - I wasn't surprised to hear what they found out about her. Eventually, they moved her into a nursing home and she died there a year or so later. I considered going to her funeral out of respect, but I knew her soul would be on fire knowing I was there.
So yeah, I yelled at an old lady. A mentally ill old lady at that. Does that make me a bad person? I don't think so. I did it for the right reasons. And I'd do it again.
(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.
After that, we never talked again. Enemies forever. Much like my Dad and Winchester.
I knew in my heart what I did was right, and that if that were my Grandmother, I'd want someone to do the same for her. It still bothered me that she hated me though. I did feel bad that I told her to "take her ass home," but I could have said a lot worse.
Sadly, her health took a major turn in the coming year after that. She fell walking somewhere and busted up her face really bad. In the fallout from that, her family descended upon her house and realized she was not taking care of herself at all. Bathing, laundry, and eating were not being done like it should have been. While she was in the hospital after her fall, the doctors told Gertie's kids that she had Alzheimer's, and it had progressed beyond a point of any real intervention.
For the next several weeks, one of Gertie's children was at the house 24/7. It was that bad. At one point, when I was outside working one day one of her daughter-in-laws came over and made a point of telling me what was going on, even though they said they "knew" Gertie and I didn't get along.
It was then I felt the need to tell her "my side" of the story, and what I saw and did that caused Gertie to be pissed. They were shocked. I also re-told the story to her son when he was staying there. They all thanked me, and apologized for her behavior as she wasn't in her right mind. I said that I appreciated that, and that while it was sad news - I wasn't surprised to hear what they found out about her. Eventually, they moved her into a nursing home and she died there a year or so later. I considered going to her funeral out of respect, but I knew her soul would be on fire knowing I was there.
So yeah, I yelled at an old lady. A mentally ill old lady at that. Does that make me a bad person? I don't think so. I did it for the right reasons. And I'd do it again.
(*) - Names changed to protect the guilty/innocent.
Check out the Monday Morning Archive HERE!
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
4:01 AM
Labels:
Monday Morning
Saturday, May 04, 2013
Third Shift Laugh
I guess the message here is: this panda is not going to be pushed around anymore. It appears things have escalated just a tad...
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
5:15 AM
Labels:
funny
,
third shift
,
WTF?
Thursday, May 02, 2013
Katy Perry's Dad is A Douche
According to the entertainment report at Fox News:
Katy Perry has been branded a “devil child” — by her own dad.
Firebrand preacher Keith Perry also claims watching his daughter’s gigs is so hellish he ends up weeping because the fans are worshipping the singer instead of God, The Sun reports.
And, in a string of sermons, he urges congregations to “pray for Katy”, whose hits include "I Kissed A Girl And I Liked It."
Keith and wife Mary are currently touring American churches as star speakers.
The pair show a video making Katy out to be a “devil child” who needs “healing”.
Speaking in Santa Fe Springs, California, Keith ranted: “They ask how can I preach if I produce a girl who sang about kissing another girl?

“I stood there and wept and kept on weeping and weeping," he added. "They’re loving and worshipping the wrong thing.”
OK...so...the parents are touring celebrity preachers at various churches around America? Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. Its a safe bet that the reason their traveling "fire and brimstone" husband/wife sermon gets any kind of recognition is because of their "devil child" Katy Perry.
And seriously....old Dad Perry must be blind and dumb as shit. Who wouldn't worship that rack??
Seriously....you HAVE to thank God for that.
http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2013/05/02/katie-perry-dad-calls-her-devil-child-in-sermons-report-says/?intcmp=trending#ixzz2S9pw59JI
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
5:04 PM
Labels:
boobs
,
Katy Perry
,
religion
,
Stupid
Do You Have A Crime Scene That Needs Cleaned Up?
Hello? Yes. Yes we can the room your uncle was found in four weeks after he died. No problem.
We're sending in The Wolf.
We're sending in The Wolf.
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
4:01 PM
Mugshot Of The Day
I have to thank the website Gawker for this one. I can't believe they didn't get him some "grape drank."
Florida Man Phones 911 Dozens of Times to Order Kool-Aid and Weed
"The defendant admitted to calling 911 because he 'wanted Kool-Aid, burgers and weed to be delivered to him,'" a St. Pete officer wrote in the affidavit.
Jarvis Sutton was subsequently charged with misusing the 911 system.
On the way to jail, Sutton, still famished from having never received his order, apparently began to gnaw on the foam-covered metal caging that divided the police cruiser.
The 34-year-old remained behind bar yesterday in lieu of $150 bail.
http://gawker.com/florida-man-phones-911-dozens-of-times-to-order-kool-ai-486506360
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
11:01 AM
Brent Rambo Approves
This GIF has me in TEARS laughing....and I don't know why. Its funny. Its disturbing. I have NO idea what it even is.
It is TRUELY: Breathtaking and Inappropriate. Click "read more" if you dare.
It is TRUELY: Breathtaking and Inappropriate. Click "read more" if you dare.
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
4:01 AM
Wednesday, May 01, 2013
Its Prom Season!!
This store apparently likes to display the dresses like how they will probably look at some point before the night is over.
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
5:01 PM
Yeah I'm Not Falling For That One
The fact they are going out of their way to advertise that its NOT haunted, probably means that it is really haunted. Like "Poltergeist" and "The Ring" kind of haunted. GTFO!!
The only people they are going to sucker into this one are people like Shaggy and Scooby.
"Like gee Scoob, the sign says its not haunted. Let's buy it"
"Rah Raggy! Reah!"
The only people they are going to sucker into this one are people like Shaggy and Scooby.
"Like gee Scoob, the sign says its not haunted. Let's buy it"
"Rah Raggy! Reah!"
Posted by
Mookie5150
at
4:01 AM
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