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Posted by on Nov 15, 2012 in Blog, Rants and Raves, Restaurant Reviews | 6 comments

Why the Fuck Can’t I Get a Decent Margarita (A Rant Redux)

A Rant About Margaritas

 

Why’s it so goddamned difficult to get a decent margarita?  I mean, what the fuck!

Its madness!

The recipe is simple.  Simple!   The act of mixing the cocktail isn’t difficult.  But for some reason, which I fail to contemplate, most bars and restaurants — even highly-rated Mexican restaurants — serve shitty-ass margaritas made with no love nor care.  It’s time to start sending these abominations back.  A major education campaign must be launched, and I’m here to do it.

I’ve had it.  I’m livid!

Where’s the pride?  How can an owner, a manager, or a server put out such lackluster product, when a margarita should be the centerpiece attraction?  How does a restaurant keep its doors open using cheap tequila and rock-gut triple sec poured out of pathetic plastic bottles combined with disgusting powder-based mixers and have the audacity to call that a “margarita?”  It’s like putting lipstick on a pig and calling that Anne Hathaway.

Case in point:  Whoever created the margarita pictured in the photo below should never be able to set foot behind a bar again.  Ever!  The criminal should be digging a ditch or serving on a chain gag.  Bitch slap his ass!  I mean, look at this travesty!  And study carefully.  Drop what you are doing and pay attention!

This is important!

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Posted by on Nov 10, 2012 in Blog, Rants and Raves, Sports Betting | 1 comment

Can Someone Please Bitch-Slap This Man for Me?

 

 

Warning:  Excessive profanity follows

 

I’m having difficulty breathing right now.

I just got finished watching a giant ass fuck of a college football game, which was Miami playing against Virginia.  I have Virginia -1 as my biggest bet of the day (insert favorite punchline here).  The Cavaliers have been a money burner for me for a decade.  But all the stars lined up in this game for an easy cover.

Of course, things don’t always turn out as we hoped or planned.

Virginia is basically within a touchdown but behind the entire second half.  The Cavaliers drive down the field in the closing seconds and have the ball deep in Miami territory — second and goal with just enough time left to run two plays.

Fortunately, Virginia scores a touchdown and goes up 41-40.

Great for me, right?  Easy cover.  I’ve got the bastards at -1 and surely they will now tag on an easy extra point and go up by a score of 42-20, thus covering the spread by one point.

But no.

The ass clown head coach of Virginia decides to go for a TWO-POINT CONVERSION?

Why?

I mean, what the fuck!  There are THREE seconds left in the goddamned game.  All they need to do is kick the routine extra point, then squib kick the ball on the kickoff.  GAME OVER.  What’s the purpose of going for TWO POINTS when you basically have the game already won?

I was standing in front of the television inside the Harvey’s Lake Tahoe sportsbook along with several other Virginia backers.  There was almost a riot.

Of course, things could have been worse and much more ugly.  Had I actually been at that ballgame in person, I probably would have barged out of the stands and charged onto the field after the game.  They would have led me away in handcuffs.

Why in the fuck would this joker go for two points, when there’s NO WAY! Miami can come back and possibly kick a field goal with just seconds left?  Moreover, isn’t the chance of a turnover/runback greater on a full-fledged offensive play from scrimmage?  If anything, the jackass head coach of Virginia is RISKING the game by going for two.

KICK THE FUCKING EXTRA POINT!  MORON!

If someone in Virginia can go to the campus and give Mike London an open-hand bitch-slap across his left jaw, I will gladly pay $20.  In cold hard cash.  Please send video for verification.

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Posted by on Nov 8, 2012 in Blog, Personal | 2 comments

Some Personal Advice — Never Try to Eat Chili While Driving

nolan-dalla-eats-chili

 

I’m one of those drivers you absolutely hate.

I yap on the cell phone while driving.

I text while driving.

I fiddle with the music on my iPod while driving.

I eat while driving — many times with a knife and fork (fortunately, the car has good alignment so I don’t need to have my hands on the wheel).

I used to shave while driving — that was before I quit shaving.

As for drinking while driving, let’s just not go there.  Don’t ask, don’t tell.

But one thing I most certainly will not never do again is eat a bowl of hot chili while driving.

En route from Las Vegas to Lake Tahoe a few days ago, I stopped off in Bishop, CA  There was no way in hell I was going to waste 20 minutes sitting in the restaurant eating, when the more practical thing was to get the food “to go.”  I call this multi-tasking.

Well, you can see what happened from the photo above.  I won’t even show you what my shirt looked like, which now pretty much looks like an infant’s bib.  I dribbled chili all over myself like a two-year-old.  Fortunately, the chili wasn’t steaming hot or it might have burned the family jewels.

Which leads me to wonder — if I scorched my crotch eating hot chili, could I sue the restaurant for a million dollars like the bat-shit crazy hot coffee lady?

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Posted by on Sep 18, 2012 in Blog, Rants and Raves | 0 comments

XXX-Rated Curiosity — Seriously, Who Writes this Stuff?

 

porno photo

I wonder if this is a movie about eating hot dogs?

 

Writer’s Note:  Today’s blog contains language some readers may find objectionable.  However, if you’ve been reading my stuff regularly, this will probably seem like just another routine post.

 

It was an accident.

I swear.  An accident.

While sitting in my hotel room alone late at night with the remote control in hand, I must have punched the wrong number.

It can happen to anyone, right?

Instead of watching “Nazi UFO Conspiracy” a riveting one-hour documentary that I’d been anxiously staying up for most of the night, rather than hitting channel “282,” I mistakenly pressed “582.”  I found it odd that The History Channel would be running a show titled, “She Can Take 13 Inches.”  For some odd reason, I don’t think this show was about a ruler.

I must admit, the graphics were jaw dropping.  Oops.  Maybe that’s a bad visual.  Never mind.

I mean seriously, who writes this stuff?  Did someone actually go to college, work their ass off, earn a degree in English literature, and then end up in a career writing plot descriptions for porn movies?

Curiosity piqued, I really want to know — does the writer for Direct TV actually watch all these porno movies first, and then craft his clever narrative?  I would think in this case, the writer could wing the narrative, just a little.  How about a one-size-fits-all movie description, a sort of Huggie blanket for porn aficionados — “People fucking.”  That would pretty much cover all the bases, wouldn’t it?

Here, checkout these literary masterpieces:

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Posted by on Sep 14, 2012 in Blog, Rants and Raves | 2 comments

Rant: What Idiot Tries to Change the Channel of a Bears-Packers Game?

 

Idiot on the left in white t-shirt grabs the fucking remote and tries to change the channel during the Green Bay-Chicago game. This man is about to be dealt a savage beating.

 

I’m having trouble breathing right now.

Some selfish-ass motherfucker just stormed into the lobby of the hotel, and tried to change the television channel.  No big deal, except the program a few of us were watching was the game between NFL rivals Green Bay and Chicago!!!

What a jerk!!!

Doesn’t this clown have a television set in his hotel room?  And, what fucking show would you dare turn to when there’s an NFL game on???

Let’s back up.  Begin story.

I’m sitting here working on my laptop in the lobby of the Courtyard Marriott in Bossier City, Louisiana.  Internet connection is strong here, so I’m camping.  It just so happens there’s a big screen television with the Green Bay-Chicago game being shown.  Nice!

So, there are perhaps 3-4 people watching the game, minding their own business.  Then, out of nowhere — this middle-aged jerk barges into the lobby and grabs the remote.  He starts flicking through the channels like he’s standing alone in his underwear at 3 am, totally oblivious to the danger he is putting himself in.

“Heeeeeeyyyyyy, wooooaaaahhhh!”

I thought the man was pulling a bad joke.

But no.  He starts flicking the channels and I am sitting there speechless.  Finally, the words come.

“Hey, we’re watching that game, man!” I say.

“Yeah, I just want to check out something else for a minute,” he says.

So, the prick starts with the remote and like watches each channel for 30 seconds before flicking to the next channel.  I’m not believing what I am seeing.  Does this man have a death wish?

I’m like shaking by this point.  I decide to grab my cell phone and take a picture of this prick (see above) because this might end up as the lead story on the 11 o’clock news.

I decide to give the idiot another 3-4 minutes to get his rocks off.  That passes.  He’s still channel surfing!!!

“What in the hell are you looking for?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says.  “I just wanted to see what else was on!”

Are you fucking kidding me????????????

By this time a few others have mustered up the courage to run this lout out of the room.  One of the guests insists that we were all here first, so we have control of what gets shown on TV.  If he wants to pick the show, he needs to get here earlier and stake out his territory.

Finally, the man sitting to the right (in the photo) simply walks over and grabs the remote out of the fool’s hand.  He shifts the TV back to the game.

The snake slinks away like the loser he is and now all is right with the universe.

No lead story about a homicide on the 11 o’clock news.  But it was close.

 

 

 

 

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