Category: Uncategorized

Graveyard Of Dreams

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dream

Shattered promises and wishes once believed real
All need a place to lay down
Somewhere to collect them when everything falls
Hidden way deep underground

Planning and scheming the optimist dreaming
But life is sometimes bizarre
Blood sweat and tears through so many years
All that’s left is another deep scar

Dreams and desires are left feeling low
Wondering if when and where they should go
When all hope tumbles over torn at the seams
Its buried alone in the graveyard of dreams

Spirits get crushed as ambition deflates
Its just the way that life goes
No matter how hard you try to keep it inside
Disappointment and pain always shows

Back on your feet to gat back in the race
Sometimes it just isn’t fair
John knows I’m a dreamer but dreams always die
Leaving a wake of despair

Dreams and desires are left feeling low
Wondering if when and where they should go
When all hope tumbles over torn at the seams
Its buried alone in the graveyard of dreams

Hope I Die Before I Get Old

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nu

A Potsink Diary Reflection
Cooking at a rest home was not especially challenging but I’m still in a kitchen, at least sometimes, and I had fun working with Margie and Flo. Margie was not only the big boss but a favorite of the owner so she called all the shots and since we worked together much of the time we became fast friends. I got my kitchen responsibilities done faster and faster so I could have more time on the floor to hang out with the nurse and the aides. We laughed and joked a lot, I was one of only two males working there, but it just never dawned on me that nurses could not only tease with expertise, but they are also practical jokers.
One day as I was flirting with one of the aides Margie snuck up from behind and said to me “Jhay, you afinish so faust today dot we got spayshal job for a you.” A shot of adrenalin started coursing through my central nervous system because the sound of that had an eerily similar ring to it. It sounded too much like the “downtime” Chef Jimmy was so adept at. I thought back to all the mindless tasks the chef assigned me that not only bored me to tears but drained what little sanity I had left in me. In a sheepish voice I inquired if it was in fact anything like downtime but Maggie assured me it was just a small job and she needed help with an SSE. I started to feel a little relief, SSE didn’t sound like it was anything horrible. But an uneasy feeling did come over me when I saw the dastardly dog smile on the other nurses. “Meet us up inna Miss Lemcows room upstair. We meet you dare Jhay.”
When I walked in the room I began to get a tad concerned. After all, this place was loaded with some of the most extremely senile people to ever observe the Civil War. At the very least they read about it in the “Recent History” books. I was called into the bathroom where they had poor Mrs. Lemkaugh sitting naked on the toilet. It was an embarrassing sight for me but Mrs. Lemkaugh never even took notice of me. She wasn’t in control of her faculties and as I would soon find out not in control of bodily functions. I tried to look away but its like a car accident, the harder I tried the more I looked. I was depresses at how depressed the old woman’s body was. Any muscles or tendons in her breasts had long ago lost any of its substance and hung like deflated balloons. Her whole body just seemed so frail and wrinkled. I felt very uncomfortable, as though I were violating her privacy. I guess I was but she was completely unaware of my existence let alone my embarrassment at that violation. I looked away choosing to focus on my Jamaican boss who I was beginning to develop a crush on. In Margies hand was a metal can much like a flour sifter with a red rubber hose attached to it. “Here Jhay, I need a you hole dis can up over da heyd ofa Miss Lemcow.” Totally confused and wondering what the fuck was happening I stared blankly as I grabbed the can. Flo, the sexy forty something nurse leaned up to my ear and whispered “Is this your first Soap Suds Enema honey?” It took a minute for the words to sink in. Now the SSE took on an entirely dark aura. I had heard all three words before but never in the same sentence and certainly not as a single concept, but there it was. Soap. Suds. Enema. Innocuous as three words, I use soap, I bust suds, and I know what an enema is but how in the fuck can all three become one? Pondering the concept it can only mean one thing. I was holding a can of soapy water, so there’s the soap and suds, but where does enema fit in? I looked down at Margie grabbing the other end of the rubber hose and in an instant it hit me. Oh my fucking god in heaven that’s where it fit in, literally. She is sticking that hose in….in..oh my fucking god in heaven she stuck the end of the hose in Mrs. Lemkaugh ass!! “Okay Flo let off de valve.” Flo, the not so sexy anymore forty something nurse, shot me a smile usually reserved for Karmic retribution. She reached up and released the valve. In an instant the can emptied its contents of soapy water and went directly to Lemkaughs ass, which apparently mixed in the contents the Mrs. Lemkaughs gastro-intestinal system was holding on so dearly to. It made the stink carousel of decayed horseshit from my old landscaping days seem like jasmine incense. I gagged as I tried desperately not to breath. At least not through my nose although inhaling that stench in my mouth did not seem an acceptable alternative. I could tell they were enjoying my pain and Flo let out a chuckle. They had gotten me good on this one. “Am I done here?” After I managed to utter my request, I held my breath and very quietly offered a “Jesus shit” mantra “Of course Jayh, you canna go backs de kitchen.” With that I put down my soap suds enema can and left the room. I could still hear the ladies laughing and all kind of sloshing and flushing. I gagged once again as I considered a despicable thought. I feared this wouldn’t be my last SSE and my job around the nursing home was evolving a bit too rapidly.
I was to learn quickly that playing jokes was a way for the nurses to keep their sanity in check. Everyone says don’t get involved with the patients but you really can’t help it. It’s like being surrounded by your grandparents and all their alter egos and they are all so cute. One of the darkest jokes was when Margie sent me into Old Mrs. Carrols room to check on her because she never showed up for lunch. Mrs. Carroll was a staff favorite because she was funny and didn’t seem to have any family. At least none that came to visit. She was kind of in her own little world but she was funny as all hell when she got rolling on shit. “JT? What the damn kind of a name is JT? Whassa mattah, your Mom and Dad couldn’t afford a whole name so they just gave you initials? Where are you from anyway, N Y?” She would say shit like that with deadpan face and so sarcastically accurate it could make a sack of onions cry in envy. Anyway, I went in to see how she was and she was like motionless in bed with her eyes closed. It was eerily quiet in the room which smelled strongly of stale urine. Another aroma I had become accustomed to! Many of the patients, the old folks, had lost control of their body functions. Every room had a cloud of urine stink to one degree or another and the carpets had faded stains everywhere if you looked close. But today the urine cloud was unusually aggressive. It snuck out from the corners of the stained and worn carpet and like a stench poltergeist dancing about merrily in search of an olfactory gland to haunt. And haunt it did. With the unappealing fragrance of rotten eggs soaked in ammonia the cloud of stench creeps into your nostrils and looks for a place to hang out. Sometimes it teams up with the century old shit stink. After decomposing in a ninety year old set of intestines remnants collect in the bowels to congregate. I looked over at Mrs. Carrol who was just lying in bed. But I mean JUST lying! She wasn’t moving at all. I called her name and no response. The silence in the room was the most eerie silence I had ever felt and as I got closer to Mr. Carrol her face was purple and lifeless. I damn near shit myself. I began to shake and knew in an instant that the smell today was so strong because its the smell of death! Something I never ever want to smell again. I was overcome with emotion. Profoundly sad because someone I care about is lying dead in front of me, confused because what the Hell is death anyway, and angry because why did she have to die. I wondered who her family was, if they cared. Had she known love? Is there anyone from her life who’s going to miss her. Then I started thinking how I have to break the news to Mar….Wait! What!! Son of a bitch they knew when they sent me in here! My anger shifted its focus.
When I got back to the lounge they were all laughing hysterically like it was one big god damn joke. My emotions were boiling until I looked at the ladies. They were laughing, but they were crying too. They were trying to cope with the loss the only way they knew. I walked up to Margie, looked her right in the face and said, “Oh yea, laugh now, cuz when I get you back you gonna forget how to laugh at all.” She glared back at me then we all started laughing, and crying, and this weird hugfest started as we all tried to put Mrs. Carrols death away to somewhere. Deep in some mental attic filled with cobwebs so it won‘t effect us. Like I said, we’re not supposed to get attached but it sure is hard when you lose a patient you’re attached to. Real hard.
But that was life at Mimi Dee’s. A mixture of emotions and never knowing what the day would bring. I was cooking again, flirting tirelessly, but had become a fixture. Something had to give. All the young ladies, some from my school, some from other schools, and the nurses. I flirted like it was part of my job. And let me tell you I really dug it. I did feel some degree of guilt because Carrie and I were very serious about each other. Flirting wasn’t exactly cheating, but it wasn’t complete faithfulness either. But still I dug the shit out of so much attention from so many females. Margie would tease me relentlessly about taking me home to her ‘Garden Apartment” when hey boyfriend Bob was out of town. It felt so good but I worried a little if I would ever take it too far. I want to be faithful, but between my raging hormones and insatiable sweet tooth for dancing on the edges of life I had to consider I may one day get too close to that edge. On top of that I knew life was getting stale for me here. I knew I needed to get out of here and get back to proper cooking but I was just so comfortable here, and comfort isn’t something I’ve had much of in my short life. So what do I want to be, a chef or a cheating boyfriend with a job but no career. Something has to give.

Time To Settle Down.

ONE REALLY BIG SPECIAL NIGHT IN ‘64

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beatles #1

It was 20 years ago today, Sergeant Peppers taught his band to play. I doubt there is anyone in America of my generation that’s not familiar with that line. But on February 9th, 2014 it was 50 years ago today that counted. That was the day America was ready to….Meet The Beatles. After that night came a plethora of new albums, Magical Mystery Tour, Rubber Soul, Revolver, The White Album and more. Help, Its Been a Hard Days Night here on Abbey Road. 50 years ago! Yea, a lot has been made of the recent 50 year anniversary of the Beatles conquering America. But nothing really caught any of the energy that one special evening created. Five songs transformed a generation, gave it something to identify with. The Beatles merely changed the way we spoke, the way we dressed, the way we listened to music, the way we viewed our politics, and in general the way we lived our lives. And it all started on one night all across America in households of families huddled around a Sunday night ritual. The Ed Sullivan show, an institution in the days when most families had only one TV set and the whole family sat and watched it together. Back in those days dinner was served at the same time everyday, an you couldn’t leave the table until you finished everything. Yea, even the vegetables! After dinner the family gathered around the TV set to watch whatever Dad decided we could watch. Saturday mornings we had cartoons and the television belonged to us (so long as our chores were done) but at night there was no democracy. Fascist Pops was in control of what we viewed and we were the remote controls. “JT, go put on channel four. JT, turn this up. JT, fix that horizontal bar.” Pretty much the same in every house, and Sundays were family night. For us it was the same every Sunday, Lassie, followed by My Favorite Martian, followed by The Ed Sullivan Show all on CBS. If I was allowed to stay up after that I had to change to NBC and we watched Bonanza. February 9th 1964 started out just like any other Sunday night, I had no clue what would occur on that special night.
IMHO the Grammy tribute fell way short of recreating any of that energy, not focusing on what that special night really created but instead used it as a promo for Grammy winning acts, popular actors, and an audience that never got a chance to understand the importance that night held to my generation. So I’ve taken it on myself to attempt to capture a slice of the energy released on that special night 50 year ago. For me and my classmates way back in February 1964 that performance was a game changer. A life changer! The moment the first set was over I understood intuitively that something had changed profoundly. For the first time I had my own music, a music made just for me and all I wanted to do was be like The Beatles and listen to more of their music. First I had to wash the Brylcreem out of my hair, remove the slicked back greaser wave and grow my hair. I would have bangs starting the next morning. I wanted to be like The Beatles, those dudes were fucking COOL!
Before that evening like most of my friends I was a follower, a sheep spinning my older brothers 45’s. Not that it wasn’t good music, it was great, but it wasn’t mine and it didn’t have the oomph I would come to know and love. The year before that special night I got my first record player for Christmas. It was a cheap record player that could only handle one record at a time and had one cheesy speaker built in its self contained carrying case that couldn’t go more than four feet away from an electric outlet without an extension cord. My record library consisted of Oh My Darlin’ by Huckleberry Hound, The Theme to Mr. Ed (of course of course) The Chipmunks Christmas song, a searing rendition of The Legend Of Sleepy Hollow, and Sherry by the Four Seasons (That one I stole from my brother, hope he doesn’t read this). But that Sunday night changed all that. In my pajamas with spacemen in spacesuits all over it I sat right in front of the TV. I heard that some Beetles were coming to America, and all I knew at that point was they played music and made girls scream. I was prepared to hear something like The Everly Brothers, or The Beach Boys, or maybe even Bobby Darrin. My parents played Frank Sinatra, Al Hirt, and Andy Williams on the family console but I knew it would be nothing like that. Maybe its four British Elvis Presley’s? But when that first song began, a song called “All My Lovin” my mouth dropped. It was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. And the four guys, long hair shaking as they sang, were just about the coolest things in the universe. I watched and memorized their names, on drums some guy named Ringo. Who has a name like that?! Cool! George, Paul, and sorry girls he’s married John. I knew in an instant this was something I had been waiting for without knowing I was waiting for it. The next tune was called “Till There Was You” sung by the cute guy Paul. In the house next door I heard a blood curdling scream. I looked up startled and my Dad and Mom were chuckling, “Mollie, can you hear Christine next door?” laughter, “Yes I can Joe, listen to her screaming like a banshee for these kids” Christine was my 13 year old next door neighbor who sounded like she was being tortured by the boogey man when in fact in her mind she was asking Paul to marry her. Very loudly and in an eerie shrieking kind of way. Mom an Dad got a good laugh from those cute mop top boys from England. Not quite as funny the next morning when I came downstairs with my hair combed over my forehead in an attempt to copy the look. “You march right upstairs and fix your hair young man!” …..“But Mom!! I wanna………Yes Mom.” That was the first of many years of arguments I would have regarding the length and style of my hair. And it all started on that one magical special night. They finished the first set with a fast rocking tune “She Loves You”, which had all of the kids in school singing yea, yea, yea on the playground the rest of the year.
After another act or two the boys came back for two more songs but it wouldn’t have mattered, the die was cast they had already conquered the youth of America. We were in hook line and sinker. They played “I saw her Standing There” and “I wanna Hold your Hand” what would become two more love anthems of the young. In one special night I had five new favorite songs. I got rid of my 45’s and began swearing a collection of nothing but Beatle songs after that. I had MY music now, not my brothers, not the kid up the blocks, MINE! I bought teen magazines to read about them, had Beatle trading cards, bought many of their 45’s, and a Beatles poster, all of which would make me a bazillionaire if I had them now. As the years passed I could follow my social development by what album came out next. My hair, my politics, my view of love, my global presence all coincided with what the Beatles did on their next album. I didn’t realize it at the time, but every Beatle album I ever listened to could be called a greatest hits album. It was as though they couldn’t make a shit record if they tried.
Whatever The Beatles did I tried to do. As they grew their hair longer so did I, when they dressed more colorful so did I, they talked slang, I talked their slang too, they smoked pot I tried it. I couldn’t get enough information about them. I followed their trip to India in the magazines and adjusted my life around the Fab Four. I especially tried to be like John. Whatever The Beatles said or did validated my doing the same. Not so much for Mom and Dad though, the chuckling over the cute mop tops morphed into a major bone of contention with the generation gap battles. No longer cute and funny lads they were viewed as destroyers of youth, the antichrists. What they really did was to give a voice to a generation and let us know its not only okay to question authority, its a responsibility when authority is being misused. Protest against wrongness, against war, evil and hatred, share love and peace and harmony. What a horrible message to send to kids. Joe McCarthy would have been incensed. With music as their only weapon they conquered us and spread the concept of peace, love, and togetherness to the masses. The Flower Children, The 60’s fashions, The protests, the outdoor concerts, all the positive aspects of the era can be traced back to The Beatles. The Beatles were the truth and the truth set us free. It all began one special night.
I truly hope that another generation of youth will have a perfect storm, a perfect harmony of lives that can reset perfect balance in the Universe the way the Beatles did for mine. Four guys, strangers, all from the same area meet in another country and become a rock and roll band and set the world on its head. Why those specific four? Why that specific area? Why that specific time? Four guys, all with extreme talent that compliments each other forming an unstoppable force. When the world needs it the Universe has a way of supplying the perfect storm like The Beatles. We need a perfect storm now, we need another Beatles. But I just can’t see that happening, the good karma, the positive energy, the light through the darkness coming together at the exact moment, the exact time, for the exact reason. I just can’t! But Hell, I’ve been wrong before, and if it can happen I’ll be glad to be wrong again. C’mon Universe, now more than ever, we need some Beatle magic. Give us just one more “One Really Big Special Night”……PEACE

Passion Prison

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prison back

Loved and lost and loved again a passion carousel
Bonds of lust
Etched in dust
Promised dreams
Broken trust
Is it really worth the pain risking flames of Hell
Locked in love
Chained desire
Bind her hold her
Take her higher

Loves the prison
On my shoulder
Set me free
I need to hold her
I get hotter
Love gets colder
Loves the jail
Up on my shoulder

Carry it with me wherever I go the prison on my back
Salty mirrors
Broken vows
I’ll take everything
Love allows

Happy or sad I just can’t tell don’t seem to have the knack
First the climax
Then the lie
Its me not you
I hear her cry

Loves the prison
On my shoulder
Set me free
I need to hold her
I get hotter
Love gets colder
Loves the jail
Up on my shoulder

Tenderly emotion trickles down from the prison tower
Smiles and winks
Holds me tight
It feels so good
It feels so right
I’m with you now Honey child let’s enjoy the hour
Seize the moment
Pull my hair
Passion prison
Is always there

Loves the prison
On my shoulder
Set me free
I need to hold her
I get hotter
Love gets colder
Loves the jail
Up on my shoulder

Sugar’s Existential Crisis and A Sweet Intervention

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shugs

(A Love Once so Sweet)
Sugar cries “Oh girl you must be mad what happened to the sweet love you an me had? Against the door he leans starts a scene and tears fall an burn his sugar dream.” Yea, it’s me your old pal sugar and I’m having an existential crisis. I’m not gonna sugar coat this I just don‘t even know who I am anymore. Remember me sweetie? I was always there for you when you were a kid, always! First in cubes wrapped in paper, then in bowls at the table, I was dancing in your candy, frozen in your ice pops, swimming in soda, and even the subject of one of your favorite movie songs. You remember Mary Poppins singing about how a spoonful of me helped the medicine go down. But now many of you scorn me, blame me for so much of the bad stuff in the world. Don’t hate me just because I’m refined, I can’t help being well educated. Seems you love culture in yogurt but oh my god don‘t let sugar get refined. It isn’t fair, it makes my crystals burn with anger contemplating what’s happening to my once sweet life.
People say I ruin dental plates and rot teeth, I increase peoples body fat, I cause hyper-activity in children, I cause acne in tens, I‘m bad for your liver and I cause diabetes. Now some even suggest I‘m responsible for cancer. Four out of five doctors hate me but I’m not mean spirited or evil, just ask the fifth doctor. When did I become such a bad influence? Why do they categorize me so unfairly, after all, I’m just a carbohydrate, a simple sugar. You can find me naturally in milk and fruits. You may know and love me by some of my other names, fructose, glucose, or maltose. When people use those names they aren’t so quick in judging me. It’s when they use the full force of their contempt staring at me disapprovingly and calling me “Refined Sugar” with an unabridged distain that hurts. It make my blood caramelize and goes directly into my dextrose filled heart . Who am I, what am I, why am I here? I think I need to do some repressed memory exercises to search out my roots and maybe figure out where our love story went wrong.
You may not realize this but I’m older than Jesus Christ himself. That’s right, I came on the scene around 8,000BC in Asia. Yea I was a mere infant back then and was extracted through chewing the cane I was born in. Some brilliant dude in India figured out how to crystallize me around 350AD. They shared the method with some Buddhist monks and before I knew it I was a staple in desserts everywhere. Believe me, its no coincidence that stressed spelled backwards is desserts and I was the main reason! Anyway, the Romans and Greeks used me in medicine (another non-coincidence, lol) but the Arabs actually built housing for me they called mills. Now I was a substance of great importance. An import of great importance and exportance. Cultures went crazy for me, the British colonists even referred to me as white gold. I was a huge profit maker and unfortunately a main reason for slavery in the Caribbean. I don’t like to talk about that aspect, that was the dark period of my life. Not brown sugar, that’s jut me teamed up with molasses. So you see, I’m really not a bad guy and I just don’t understand all the negative energy around me.
My troubles began back in 1957 when some “refined” doctor classified me as poison and accused me of being nothing but “empty calories” shortly after I achieved refined status. “Oh he doesn’t really have any vitamins or minerals like the natural stuff.” Get over yourself Doc, I bring the sweet baby, I make people feel good about themselves, make them happy. I put smiles on children faces. Is THAT empty?
Anyway, that’s why I have been questioning life and why I’m here. What I need is some support, an empathetic ear and comforting words from my friends to let me know I’m still loved. That’s why The Existential Baker asked you all here today to this sugar intervention. He put aside his own profound queries on life which rive him mad just for today to help me get my sugar Zen back on track and into dessert and other culinary preparations. Place your wrath back on GMO’s where it belongs, not on an old sweet friend. When you open your cupboards later today thank that 5 pound bag of sugar for always being there for you, tell the cute little sugar bowl how great it tastes and put some in your coffee or tea. I know many of you use artificial sweeteners and that’s okay so long as you don’t forget about me. Go ahead and use me, use me as much as you want I don’t mind. Just don’t overuse me, I do sometimes have a tendency to wear out my welcome as well as a few teeth when I’m used too much…….Peace

Life Through A Death Stick

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d stick

Shook hot sand out of my boot
Death stick poised on shoulder
I see some Mothers frightened young boy
His fate to not get older

Eyes holding steady the length of the stick
I’m not really sure what I see
A monster with two evil God fearing eyes
Who looks like he’s more scared than me

Bombs always screaming and bullets streaming
Through bloodshot eyes I have cried
Oil under land, blood on the sand
I wish I had some place to hide

My death stick is ready hands a’ still shaking
Trigger is moist from the sweat
this young boy will die for somebody’s sin
His death meant to even some debt

One last glance down the stick what do I feel
Is that feeling revenge or do I feel glee
The young boy is holding a death stick as well
And he’s just a young boy much like me

Dizzying flash of anger and heat
Scarlet bubble that once was a face
Good kill there lad you’ll sure get a badge
Another notch to etch in your case

A stranger is gone, no one knows why
It was others determined his fate
His Mom’s sure to cry his brother will wail
Avenging his life with more hate

And Its five, six, seven open up the pearly gates, Well there ain’t no time to wonder why whoopee we’re all gonna die
History repeats, and repeats, and repeats……….

Interview with a school lunch

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sl
When someone as old as The Existential Baker thinks about school lunch it brings up an image of an old lady wearing a hideous hairnet, dirty worn cafeteria uniforms, possessing suspicious personal hygienic habits sneering at me to take my meatloaf and move my tray down the line. A few steps further was what could be her older sister tossing a small dish of canned peaches on my tray and not saying a word but signifying with her head that I should continue on. Up next were rows of milk containers of which I was expected to grab for myself as I move to pay the cashier lunch lady. $.30. A whole lunch for thirty cents, and if I could come up with an additional ten cents I could buy an ice cream pop. I would then take my tray searching for the spot my classmate sit everyday.
But those days have changed, the foods are healthier, the lunch ladies have nicer cleaner uniforms, and most lunches are purchased with a prepaid program card which is where school lunches problems have become so public as of late. The parents of some of the school children lately have neglected or forgotten to remain current and school officials are taking a hard line embarrassing the kids and worse. Some are even tossing school lunches away like yesterdays trash. Lets hear what school lunch has to say about all the attention.

EB: So school lunch, exactly what happened in Utah?

SL: Well I know you remember me in my glory days Mr. baker, and since that time I have worked tirelessly with the Surgeon Generals, the Department of Education, and the AMA to bring healthier options to the students. I never asked to be dragged into this political battle and frankly I don’t like it.

EB: Speaking of health, you’ve also been criticized for becoming too healthy from some students who don’t want your raw veggies and fruits. What started that fiasco?

SL: Well that was my first experience with politics. The First lady Mrs. Obama came to me and pointed out ways in which I could contribute to reducing obesity and promote the general good health of children everywhere. Next thing I know I’m all over the news because its unfair to viewers children to be “forced” to eat healthy. I get it, kids would rather me offer greasy cheeseburgers dripping with fat and soda and candy but FOTUS was right, those options are unwise and place the children’s health at risk. Unfortunately we can’t force parents to monitor their own children to eat proper so that’s where I could help by offering an affordable alternative with health benefits. I offer these alternatives while their parents are off working or sitting home eating Bon Bons or whatever. It’s not my fault they are afraid to stand up to their children and tell them the choices we gave you Existential. You remember your two choices, take it or leave it. What you did outside of school was your business but when you’re in our institutions it was my responsibility to educate you on how to eat. That’s all we want, a little support from the parents when their children are in our charge. We are not Mickie Dee’s or Taco King, we offer affordable healthy choices.

EB: I applaud that Lunch, but let me get back to the pre paid programs that are so out of control. Many of the schools have prepaid systems for school lunches and they seem to work out fairly well. But in Utah, the authorities at one school singled out students whose parents hadn’t stayed up to date on their prepaid cards, told the children they were not allowed any food and then tossed the uneaten lunch in the trash. How did that make you feel?

SL: I’m still burning over that, why anyone would use me to make some bullshit political statement is beyond absurd. On top of that then throwing me away while there are plenty of churches or food banks that would have loved to taken me in to do some good instead of ending up in a landfill. It’s despicable! The truth is this was not a community of people who are neglectful of their children or who are hurting for money. It happened in an average American city of hard working people who have so much on their plate, pun intended, that they sometimes overlook the more mundane tasks like keeping track of their lunch cards. All the authorities needed to do was to remind the parents they were behind on their payments and it could have all been avoided. That’s actually a practice they used before, but for some unknown reason they determined it was not a good use of their time. Apparently their time is better spent embarrassing children, making parents feel inadequate, an throwing away food that could have fed the disenfranchised.

EB: I can see you’re angry and rightly so school lunch. After years of being treated with complete indifference I for one am very happy and proud of your accomplishments and hope you get your due. Also pun intended, thank you for taking the time out to talk with me, an I hope your future relationship with school officials and parents can benefit from this tragedy. Thank again School Lunch.

SL: Thank you Mr. Existential Baker, we appreciate all the support we can get.
So there you have it, School Lunches endured year’s of ridicule before taking an important role in children’s health only to be misused and politicized. I’d like to thank you all for joining us today, if you have children please stay current on your prepaid lunch cards and give school lunch your support in its attempt to bring healthier and more nutritious option to your children. Eat well, eat healthy, and live life every day…..PEACE

Chasing Time in Search Of Life

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out

Life running out
Time standing still

Once full of wonder
Now had his fill

Behind the sparkle
Light growing dim

Under the smile
World dark and grim

Run out of verve
But not out of time

Hard day by day
Towing the line

Don’t let them see it
Don’t let them stare

Turn on a floodlight
Hide from the glare

Condition and acceptance
Its what they expect

When everything’s gone
You’re left with respect

A wink and a nod
Everything’s great

Life will catch up
Time is your fate

The Sick Bastards Network presents Naked Chef

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chefcomp

The hottest kitchen competition in town)
Rated WSC (Warped Sexual Content) Parental discretion advised. In fact make that everyone’s discretion

Its hotter than Hells kitchen, bigger and harder than any of the Top Chefs, more dangerous than having it Chopped. Its here and its sure to make the Doughboy rise and moisten Melba‘s peaches. The Buck Bone Naked Chef lets it all hang out in a bare bones competition that leaves no sharpening stone unturned. What kind of creations will come up as three naked contestants ply their culinary trade and anything else that pops up while in the buff. That’s right three naked chefs competing for the coveted title of The Buck Bone Naked Chef.
Tonight We’ll see if Jack can whip up your soufflé or cause it to fall short. Will Destiny’s skilled hands get the dough to rise or will she end up going down? Will Stan fluff his meringue into stiff peaks or will he fold over. Join our three judges Ben Dover, Hal Apeno, and Helen Back as they choose who’s naked body raises their bar and who goes home fully dressed and unsatisfied…

Well good evening folks I’m your host, Hugh Jass so come join me on this episode of Naked Chef. First lets introduce our contestants. From Pullet Pennsylvania, Master Chef of “The Back Door”, Jack Mioff. Jack? “I’m Jack Mioff and I work 16 hour days so I won’t stop until I’ve given every ounce I have.” …Ho ho, he sure looks like he can go the distance, next here from Deepcavern Nevada , chef Destiny Dancer who heads up the culinary staff at “Swinging On The Maypole” in downtown Twin Peaks, Destiny? “Me and my girls are coming for you boys if your not up for it now you will be when I finish you!” ….Hoho, threatening words from such a pretty lady. I’m even feeling it,haha. And finally, Stan Dinghard, the very popular New York City chef at “The G spot”,.. Stan? “ When I pull out my secret weapon from under my apron it will bring them to their knees.”…. Oh boy, sounds like he’s got more than just a few tricks under that apron, I think we’re gonna have some very stiff competition tonight. So Let’s get right to it contestants. In the first round we’ll be looking to see what our naked culinary competitors can come up with using the secret ingredients, Zucchini and Oysters. Contestants, strip off your clothes and get to work. You have 20 minutes to pull it off.

Okay here we go folks, Jack has turned on the Hobart 10 gallon mixer and ..Oh my god look at him go. The mixers on low and he’s rolling his hips in time to the machine, very suggestive I think he’s trying to throw Destiny off her game, lets listen in on the judges, “ Oh my dog Hal it looks to me like he’s hanging bit too close to the mixing bowl and….Ohh snap, that had to hurt!”.. “I’ll bet it did Helen, not sure how he’ll get that out of the whisk. I would have used a paddle myself whada you think Ben?” “I think Destiny has great melons.” “Just like you to notice Ben but either way Jack’s’s gonna have to get that thing out of the mixer.” …. Okay, lets go on over and see just what Destiny has working up. Well look at this folks Destiny is giving you viewers quite a treat as she rolls out her dough. That’s some serious bouncing right there, haha. .. Back to the judges, “Holy crap Helen what ees she doing with dat zucchini?” “I can tell you this Hal, the way she is washing that thing the zucchini may come squeaky clean but I can’t wait to see how it makes Stan Dinghard deal with the sight, he hasn’t taken his eyes off her.” No kidding Helen, Hal you seem to be staring yourself. I hope they can get back to work..”….. They aren’t kidding folks, Stan hasn’t moved a muscle. Well hasn’t moved a muscle aside from the obvious hanging chad muscle, haha…. Tell you the truth I’m not sure she’s washing the zucchini it looks to me its more like she’ greasing it for something. Lets go see if Chef Dinghard has his head back in the game. I see he’s not standing still, he’s just having trouble getting his oysters off. Seems the shell is clamming up him, hahaha. But it looks like all three are making headway. Whoa, hear that bell, 2 minute warning constants, time to wrap things up and start plating for the judges.
While our contestants plate their appetizers lets meet our judges for tonight’s competition. From Mexico, the man who puts then heat in the meat of Mexican food everywhere, Hal Apeno. “Tank a you, tank a you, I am berry pleased to be here.”…Okay Hal. A man of few word, haha, and now the lady who has gone from being a homeless crack addict to restaurant whore, I mean restaurateur, Helen Back. “Hellooo everybody. So nice to be here on Naked Chef Bone. Can’t wait to see all the booty. Heheh, I mean bounty Hugh, not booty, hehehehehe. I‘m just happy to be near you Hugh Jass, teehee”… And I‘m certainly happy to be near you Helen. I can see you have your big cleavage…Oops, hahaha, I mean your big cleaver tonight Helen. I better watch where I put my meat, hoho. How much did that monster set you back. Four dollars and ninety cents I think, I gave the guy a five dollar bill and he gave me back two nipples. Oops, heheheheh, I mean I don’t know how much Hugh.” ….No worries Helen, we speak blond here on Sick Bastard Network so we know just what you mean honey. And now our final judge, the man who puts the coarse in intercourse, Ben Dover. “Oh piss off Hugh, when your tip reaches your butt you can just fuck yourself.” … haha, eat shit and live Ben. I see Ben is in rare form tonight so contestants, bring out the dishes. What have you got there Jack Mioff?
“Well I got off to a rough start letting it hang too close to the bowl there, but I made autoerotic oysters. Oysters hogtied around this slice of battered zucchini covered with smothered onions.“ Mmmm, looks good Jack Mioff and clever theme, lets see what the judges think, Hal? “No very spicy but still she’s a hot, not bad there Jack Mioff, not bad at all.”…All right. Confidence from Hal, not bad at all, Helen? “It feels good going down my throat but its much too big. I like to start off with small mouthfuls.” Okay Helen, well said, how bout my angry friend Ben, what say you? “Piss off Hugh, this looks and tastes like shit.”…Oh no, not much praise from Ben Dover. Next we have the well endowed Destiny. What do you bring to the table Destiny? “I made a dill cake with greased zucchini and raw oyster because they make me horny.”…. Hahaha, I think I’m horny too Destiny, but what about our judges, Hal? “Spicy and hot. I want her.”… Ho ho, I hope you mean it was hot and not her. Helen? “I just can’t get that image of her greasing the zucchini out of my head, so slow, up and down, and up and down. I vote for her to do it again. How on earth did you get the bread so tasty Destiny?” “Oh, hehehe, I used fresh dill because fresh dill makes a tasty dill dough.” …. Okay lets not go there, too deep for me, haha, lets move on. Ben? “piss off Hugh, I just want to screw her. I’d like her to Ben Dover, haha.” ….Good enough Ben, good enough, believe it or not that’s big props from Ben Dover. Finally what did you make Stan Dinhghard? “I made a zucchini pancake with oysters absolut. Vodka glazed oysters with some bacon and Vidalia onion chutney on top.” …Mmmmm sounds delish to me, whadaya think there Hal? “Actually this shit looks good and tastes amazing. Maybe just needs a little hot sauce.” …Another nice compliment from Hal, lets hear what Helen has to say… “My God Stan is hung like a horse. What I’d really like is for Destiny to grease his zucchini, hehe. But I really like the way this whole thing feels in my mouth.” …My that’s a ringing endorsement from the slutty, oops sorry, I mean sultry Helen Back. Now our final judge, Ben?…. Get your head out of your huge ass Hugh, you know this food rocked it. But does he have to keep swinging that humongous sausage around?” ….Well Helen seems to lick it, I mean like it. Contestants, one of you will be eliminated this round lets see who has to get dressed.
Well the judges have spoken. Jack Mioff, your zucchini bread was pretty flat but your sticking it in the mixer was entertaining, Destiny, greasing that zucchini was so intense all three judges voted for you to have immunity this round, and Stan, I gotta say, you better not get too hard or there’s gonna be an accident for sure. So the first one to put their clothes back on… Jack Mioff. Sorry jack, get dressed an go back home. “Fuck you guys, this game sucks. I want to slap you Hugh.” …Whoa!! Ha ha, I’m ready for it, go ahead Jack Mioff. There goes one sore loser, but then if I had my beef jammed in the mixer I’d be black and blue too. Lets go to the final round. Contestants your ingredients for tonight’s entrée is banana, figs, and pork tenderloin. Destiny, Stan…..get to it, you have thirty two minutes.

Stan is off to a fast start, he has his tenderloin up on the counter and it looks like he’s… massaging it? Oh wait, I see what he’s doing, look at Destiny fixated on Stan’s tender loin. Lets listen in on our judges… “Conyo man, dat some huge tender dere Helen, si?” “Oh yea I see that thing Hal, Destiny seems to be staring too she better snap out of it and…oh wait, oh my God, I never knew anyone could peel a banana like that!” “Holy cheet Helen, Stan just stopped pounding his meat.” ..“Will you two idiots quit babbling, of course he stopped for chrissake, look at the way that broad is eating the banana!” Wow!! Damn she’s not eating it, she’s sucking that thing and I want to take notes. Hugh if I could do a banana like that I’d have all of you guys licking my fingers and eating it.” ….Hoho, I think Helen meant eating out of her hand but either way everyone has stopped everything and…..Wait, what’s this?? Oh oh, this could be bad news for Stan, he may get disqualified. He has piled up all the ingredients in a tower. That’s quite an erection he’ got there, no pun intended, hope he can recover. Destiny is back by the stove and is she ever giving our viewers a view. Ten minutes to go contestants, Stan, better calm that thing down before it gets disqualified. We want you to stick it out, but not that far out, haha, and Destiny I sure hope you have something to lay on your plate. We’ll be back after these messages from our sponsors, Trojan Condoms, with their new stealth rubber, she’ll never see you coming, and our favorite fast food chain, Mc Do-me’s, they give you the meat but hold the pickle.

Welcome back folks, the final bell has rung and its time to find out who gets dressed and who gets their own reality show. Judges, lets see what Destiny and Stan have for you. Destiny, what is your entrée? “I have roast tenderloin with rolled up balls of figs. As a side I placed the tip of the banana into a sliced fig.” Oh my, that’s an interesting presentation, it looks almost phallic, Hal? …“Phallic schmallic Hugh, I jus wanna see her eat another banana.” …Sorry Hal, that trigger has already been tripped, Helen? ..”Destiny, meet me after the show!” ….Helen I’m not sure, “Piss off Hugh, let them meet Helen said I can watch! Just give her the prize and get rid of the dude.” ..Um, oh, I..I.. It doesn’t work like that Ben, we need to judge. Lets go quick, And I mean quick to see what Stan cooked up for us, Stan? …”Not that I think its even gonna matter, but I made scaloppini of pork tenderloin grilled in banana skin, with a cognac fig reduction and a purée of savory banana over cinnamon infused Jasmine rice.” …That sounds mighty tempting Stan, what do you thin Hal?…”Taste good, but not as good as dee chick.” Yikes, Helen? Helen? Stan, you can’t do that, get away from Helen…”Shut up Hugh, don’t stop Stan, if you keep going until I come you get my vo….oh shit, that was pre mature!!” Helen, please, this is…”Piss off Hugh. We all voted and the dude is out. Clean yourself off and get dressed Dinghard! Bring those melons over here sweetheart, you’re the winner.” …. Ben you can’t say that kind of….oh, damn…We’ll be right back…CUT!!! Go to commercial now!!”
Shsshshshshshsshshshshshshshshshshshhsshhsh……….
Hello folks, welcome back I’m Hugh Jass here at The Naked Chef on The Sick Bastard TV Network, along with our celebrity judges, Hal Apeno, Helen Back, and Ben Dover. Well we had an unconventional show tonight to say the least but with this cast its about what we’d expect around here. We have to say good bye to a fierce competitor, but quite frankly Destiny made it hard for him from the start. In fact she made it hard for just about all of us. Stan plunged in and gave it his all but in the end he got beat by his competitor. Destiny made it so long and hard for him he just had to down, and not just on Helen, haha. His cream wasn’t rising to the top no matter how hard he was…I mean tried. Stan, put your clothes on and hit the road dude, Destiny will remain naked. “Can I just say I had a great time here. I won’t be able to beat it for a while but I am glad I came. Helen, thank you for your number I’ll give you a call. Destiny, if I had to go down I’m glad it was on you, I will never forget seeing your milk pillows bounce as you rolled out your dough. I think my only mistake was with the thickness of my pork, I didn’t pound my meat enough, but Destiny’s knockers knocked it out of the park anyway.” …Indeed they did Stan, glad to see your not a sore loser. Personally I can’t wait to watch Destiny beat her next opponents on Naked Chef Champions. In the meantime I’m gonna Ben Dover my Hugh Jass to Helen Back until Hal Apeno gets it Stan Dinghard so Destiny Dancer can Jack Mioff. Thanks for joining us, I’m a Hugh Jass and we’ll see you next time on, The Naked Chef.

What’s The Frequency Ken? (Modern Meh-taphysical Crisis)

On By Terrapin - The JourneyIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

meh

What’s on TV Tonight?

It’s not that I have a death wish or anything but life these days seems kind of, oh I don’t know, kind of meh! Same shit different day kind of thing. The morning alarm crackles its disturbingly bleak shriek inciting the morning battle with a snooze alarm which ultimately ends in me dragging myself into the shower. Same get clean routine each morning as a few locks of hair that for years had previously set up house on my scalp scamper out of their follicles onto the tile floor. Spinning down the drain in a hopeless vortex they join the other hairs that left before them forming a clog to be reckoned with at a later date. Thinning hair, expanding waist, sagging flesh all taunt me reminding me I’m not getting any younger. The moment I dry off I’m forced to acknowledge the fact that I have become a slave to caffeine. Percolate me please. Meh!

Off to work like all the other drones in metal boxes jockeying for position in rush hour traffic, which oddly never seems to rush. The poorest drivers of some of the other metal boxes become magnetized on the highway attracting to mine every shitty driver on the road in need of remediable road travel instruction. The amount of time spent yelling “asshole” at them is supplemented with countless acts of sticking out my middle finger in the hope it will snap them into driving with focus and sharpened decision making skills. Anger and frustration build up as the daily commute scrapes away every iota of false hope my morning shower temporarlly imparted. Meh!

Undaunted I arrive at my job, take a deep breath, and begin speaking in a robotic tone asking people how they‘re doing in the hopes they will return with an equally robotic” fine, you?” Time to grab another coffee, one of the few perks, pun intended, of this office job. The guys are milling around the coffee maker, “Hey, how about them Yankees last night?” “Oh yea what a game, I stayed up until the bottom of the seventh inning, what happened?” “Holy shit man they pulled it out in the top of the ninth and won 12 to 10. Didn’t end until after one thirty, I hate the west coast games” I sneak away before anyone realizes I have no interest in baseball and nothing to add to any mundane chatter. So off I go heading for my cubicle which has the arcane ability to destroy any creativity that may be near it. As I prepare myself to begin a plethora of mindless redundant acts I notice everyone is dressed pretty much the same wearing our corporate attire like a military uniform. What the fuck, were we all dressed by the copy machine? Whatever, wearing a clean suit and tie with polished shoes will go a long way in sending my highly prized quality of uniquness swirling down the doldrums of corporate team concept. Meh!

Lunch is the highlight, the one moment of the day we can make our own choices not worrying that a memo will be sent around exposing our ineffectiveness. Low self esteem creeps in on the back of hopelessness so I began to get concerned about the extra fifty pounds that have found their way onto my body in the shape of flab. Hmmm, the years have not been very kind to my body and I don’t get nearly enough exercise. Actually I don’t get any. So much for making a choice based on what I enjoy. Now that I’ve reminded myself about my weight today will be another healthy quinoa wheatberry chicken and raisin salad with raspberry viniagrette. Meh!

The last fifty minutes of the day have ticked by in ultra slow motion seemingly laughing at every tick but it’s finally relents so its time to punch out and get back in the metal box. Now to find my way back to where I started, back on the roadway and a host of new drivers to extend my finger to only this time its with my eyes half closed from a day of mindless senseless productivity. If this is the road to Hell I can tell you this it is NOT paved with good intentions, but with paved with anger and frustration that moves tediously slow. It leaves me unsatisfactorily full of desperation. Meh!

At last I’m home again, back to my comfort zone. I get to remove this movement restrictive uniform of business and put on some sweats and a tee, have some dinner and find my spot on the couch hoping the non events of the day will just melt away and be forgotten. Maybe a glass of red tonight? No, straight to the vodka it was a stressful day even by Mundane Monday standards. Meh!

Life on this revolving ant farm has just become meh! ta-physical and I need to challenge my mind before I go insane. When I begin to utilize my temporal lobe and hippocampus the syntax of eclectic impulses in my brain profoundly ponder the mentally challenging attributes of metaphysics. This is cool, contemplating abstract concepts will bring my existence back to some semblance of active sanity validating the fact that I am indeed still alive. Juggling deep queries such as what is the fundamental essence of my being, how does the intersection of time and space alter existence as it relates to cause and effect, why is there something as opposed to nothing or for that matter can nothing exist? If it exists then it must be something which conflicts with its basic premise. And….know what? I’m tired and burnt out and all this thinking will keep me awake making tomorrow that much more of a difficult routine to follow. Maybe the prudent thing to do is pound down the remainder of this vodka and pour another one. I’m far too tired to deal with all this philosophical bullshit right now, it’s been a stressful day. Its mere hours away from that moment when that alarm screeches out its hideous beep disrupting the only real peace I get. Bring on more vodka, fire up a doob, and hopefully for the next few hours life might not be so….Meh!
What’s on TV tonight?