Saturday, September 29, 2012

Scooty, dooty on the patooty, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

On their return to the NFL during the Thursday night Baltimore Ravens-Cleveland Brown game, the regular officials were cheered and then booed two minutes later. It was just like my Honeymoon.

“TLC” has ordered a second season of “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.” That sound you hear is Satan laughing with delight. 

For those not familiar, “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” has all the class of “Toddlers and Tiaras” combined with the intelligence of “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” minus the dignity of “Hording: Buried Alive.”

Is it just me or does Mitt Romney remind you of the chaperone at the high school dance trying to dance the white man’s overbite?

Since you asked:

Catching up on “My Boys” on Netflix. Between “My Boys”, “Perfect Couple”, “Weeds”, “Rescue Me”, “The League”, “Parks and Recreation”, “30 Rock”, “Happy Endings”, “New Girl”  and “Modern Family” as well as “Funny or Die” there are some wildly talented comedian/actors out there. Many of them currently unemployed and sitting on their futon in their Hollywood Hills popcorn-ceiling studio apartment waiting for their agent to call.

And not all of them are in the Apatow Mafia.

Where I Had The Best Drinks

What makes a great drink/bar? Part ambiance, taste, experience, company and the context. If you just won the lottery, the bar at Applebee’s would be the best if that is where you went to celebrate. And I hate Applebee’s.

Six pack of Budweiser on Goleta Beach after windsurfing all afternoon.

Mai Tai at Momma’s Fish house in Maui after windsurfing all day.

Margarita at Jose’s Courtroom in La Jolla after flag football game.

Blue Margarita in a paper cup at the bar Cold Springs Tavern Santa Barbara

Triple Vodka Tonic at Joe’s Bar and Grill in Santa Barbara

Old Style beer at the Caravel in Chicago that served the best deep dish pizza.

Beers and vodka shots at P.J. Clarks after my New York Times flag football team (of which I was the one legal ringer who didn’t work there) won the publisher’s league title.

Scorpion at Trader Vics on Central Park South.

Hand made mint julep at Pendennis Club in Louisville.

Corona beer at Squid Row in Cabo San Lucas because the beautiful nurse who bought it for me made me kiss her for it.

Irish Coffee at the Buena Vista in San Francisco.

The Aruba Ariba poolside at the Hyatt after windsurfing all day on our honeymoon in Aruba. Two of those and you cannot remember your pin number.

 Champagne at the desk at night of my then-girlfriend who worked on 100th floor of the World Trade Center looking out at the Brooklyn Bridge.

Margarita at the Cantina in Venice Beach, LA.

Ice cold Newman’s Own lemonade at La Jolla Shores after stand up paddle surfing with leopard sharks all day (didn’t say it had to be booze) 

The dirty straight up vodka martini I had at P.F. Chang’s to celebrate the birth of my daughter, Ann Caroline.

Champagne at Jakes in Del Mar the night I got engaged to Virginia

The beer at a local bar near Delta, Colorado after we got lost cross country skiing for an hour and found a group who got us out of there five hours later.

The San Diego Sunset (Mount Gay Rum, coconut water and a squeeze of lime) I am about to have right now while grilling a filet mignon while watching the Ryder Cup.

Oh, my god, we got it, Ryder Cup golfers. It’s a great course and you have a great partner and your opponents are great golfers. There is such a thing as being too white. Don’t be afraid to smack-talk it up a little out there.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were trying to hit it at the hole.”

“Your swing is beautiful. Compared to yo’ momma.”

“Not hitting it very far is another way to go.”

“You putt just reminded me, I have to go take a dump.”

“Oh, that shot was a little fat. How is your sister, anyway?”

“Right in the hole. How is your sister, anyway?”