Monday, September 28, 2015

After six days in the US, Pope Francis is being described as a global leader, a spiritual inspiration and a hero. Or as Donald Trump calls him: a loser.

Donald Trump was on “60 Minutes.” But according to Trump’s estimation it was more like 90 minutes of pure awesomeness.

Pope Francis performed a true miracle in his last speech in the US. He spoke in public in Philadelphia and did not get booed. Hallelujah.

Sunday night we had a Super Blood Moon eclipse. Doesn’t “Super Blood Moon” sound like a ‘70’s Blaxspoitation film about a vampire pimp starring Richard Roundtree?

Donald Trump had a bad Sunday night. Not only are Trump’s polls down, Trump tried, but failed, to keep illegal immigrants from seeing the Super Blood Moon. 

Tonight was a Super Blood Moon, the biggest moon of the year. It was a bigger moon than the one in Kim Kardashian’s sex tape.

A Dodge commercial claims; “If the Dodge brothers walked into their dealership today, they would be impressed by their maverick car company.” I think the Dodge brothers would say; “Holy crap, we’re 147 years old.”

Donald Trump has been endorsed by “Duck Dynasty’s” Willy Robinson. That’s great but I am going to wait and hear what Honey Boo Boo’s Uncle Poodle thinks.

Tom Brady threw for his 400th touchdown pass. Nice to see that poor schmuck finally catch a break.

It has been hot in Southern California for over a month. This year, our only sign of Fall will be when Trick or Treaters knock on our door and say; “Que Pasa?”

Speaker, John Boehner, has resigned from congress and plans to travel. In fact, Boehner is going to write a book about his travels in England: “Orange is the New Bloke.”


Peyton Manning has something bad wrong with his throwing shoulder. As someone who re-learned to throw a football after a torn rotator cuff from javelin/snowboarding, I know when someone is using all of their other muscles to work around an injury.

Did you know that the actresses Marcia Gay Harden and Mariska Hargitay are two different people? Why wasn’t I informed? I want someone’s tuchus in my totebag.

When people ask Hollywood folks who is the biggest jerk famous actor they have ever met, three names pop out like they’re spring-loaded: Gary Busey and – these two hurt because they are from my neck of the nape in Illinois, Wilmette – Jeremy Piven and John Cusack. Apparently being picked-on, nerdy little drama queen Evanston theater brats who later gain fame is an ugly combination. John Cusack even does that whole “Tell the waitress not to talk to me” thing.

Biggest celebrity jerk I have ever met? Tough one. Especially with Sir ass hat Ben Kingsley and stone bitch, Chrissie Hynde. Gotta go with Bruce Willis way before he was famous, circa 1985. He was a coked-up bartender in a chic club called Kamakazee on the lower West Side. He truly thought he was a god. He only gave drinks to hot babes and coke dispensers. Words cannot describe how much I wanted to slap his smug face. He is a little weasel, too. 

Speaking of smug faces I want to slap, there is no doubt (or as I call no doubt: a Gwen Stefani) Bryce Harper deserves a good choking-out. It is just that Jonathon Papelbon is the least deserving guy to do it. You know manager Matt Williams loved Harper getting choked and is lying about not seeing it. Williams should have been fired a month ago. Harper is the next Barry Bonds in mostly bad ways.

As fun as the unlikely Trump build-up has been, the unraveling is going to be even better. But here is where Trump throws curves. His tax plan does give middle-class and poor a break. And taxes the rich. Not sure about that. We need to encourage success but tax greed. Tax luxury purchases out the nose. 

The Chicago Cubs are such the real thing it makes me well-up. Joe Maddon is about the best thing in sports. Zoo day with the players and wild animals roaming around Wrigley Field? The Onesie Pajama flight back home? Celebrating clinching the playoffs after a loss? All the head-rubbing? The hoe-down dancing in the dugout? This stuff is pure gold. Hell, we got an awesome shortstop who is named after the street Wrigley Field resides? Addison. 

What the Chicago Cubs need to do before the playoffs is make a public apology to Steve Bartman. They need to have a Steve Bartman day. Bartman throws out the first pitch. And before singing “Take Me Out” during the 7th inning stretch, Bartman gets to pour an Old Style beer on the ugly fat head of that pig who threw beer on him. And that bartender who abused him has to buy free drinks for everyone who shows in his bar in Bartman hat, glasses and earphones.

Here are just a few of my Chicago Cubs nicknames:

Anthony Rizzo: Rizz-Bone.

Kris Bryant. K-Bear.

Starlin Castro: Alcatraz

Kyle Schwarber: Kyle the Schwarbarian. Or just the Schwarbarian.

Addison Russell: Street.

Jake Arrieta. B.B. (Short for the Bearded Beast)

Joe Maddon; Mad Man. (From Bill Murray’s “Stripes” comment about Lee Harvey. “You are a maaaad maaaan. What you and your friends did to that cow?”)

Somehow I can just look at Joe Maddon and know he loves his frosty Old Styles and Weber grilled rib-eyes in oak smoke. And he loves his classic blues harp men, Slim Harpo, Howlin’ Wolf, Little Walter and Junior Wells. And he loves stand up paddle boarding, though he might not know it yet.

My next potato dish to be served with a grilled rib-eyes? Tater tots rolled in a bowl with a couple of table spoons of olive oil . Add dashes of Old Bay seasoning and garlic powder and diced rosemary. (Oven at 425 for thirty) Just before they are done, snow-dusted with grated Parmesan cheese so it melts and, when done, drizzled with sweet chili sauce. 

Boyaah stanks and Bob is your frickin' Uncle. That there ain't no Shanghai shit show, Slatters and Nuggiseses.