Tag Archives: humor

Slicing bananas like a Fucking Ninja

My grandmother could slice up a banana over a bowl of cereal like a fucking ninja!

As kids, my two older brothers and I would be sitting at her large dining room table. The same table that now sits in my dining room. We’d pour the Rice Krispies from the box. We’d pour the milk from an old ceramic pitcher.

SNAP, CRACKLE, POP, CRACKLE, SNAP, POP, SNAP, POP, CRACKLE, POP…

Then my grandmother would walk in dressed in a 1960’s house-dress, uncomfortable shoes, panty-hose rolled down to just under her knees, a helmet full of bobbie-pins, a razor-sharp knife in one hand and a bunch of bananas in the other.

She’d walk up and stand next to you, pull out a banana… you didn’t have a fucking choice… you didn’t want a banana on your cereal? TOUGH SHIT… you were getting a banana on your cereal.

Then all you saw were flashes of silver blade and flying disks of perfectly sliced bananas and within a few bananoseconds you had a bowl full of Rice Krispies covered in bananas.

This story doesn’t really have anything to do with bananas.

Or Ninjas.

But it does have to do with peeling potatoes.

The other night I walked into the kitchen and my wife was peeling potatoes to make mashed potatoes for dinner. I watched carefully as she held the potato, her thumb on the top side, then she’d… GASP… DRAW THE BLADE TOWARDS HER BODY!!

scream

Granted she was using a vegetable peeler with a large rubber safety grip handle and covered by a few dozen OSHA regulations… but you can never be too cautious.

I quickly programmed 911 into my speed dial and waited for that catastrophic moment when she might slip and slice open her entire forearm or possibly slice off her hand or accidentally slip and jam the potato peeler into her heart.

I questioned her methodology of drawing the blade toward her body rather than away from herself as I had learned from all my hunter-gatherer friends that had trained me in my limited outdoor skills and blade-wielding techniques. While I pontificated, she continued peeling the potatoes. Rather eloquently I might add, with each piece of peel landing in a nice little organized pile in the sink.

I asked my daughter, who was standing nearby, how she peeled potatoes. “Do you pull the blade toward you or push it away from you?”

“I usually pull it towards me” she said, “but I do it both ways, I guess.”

Whoa…….

I’ve peeled more potatoes in my life than a boot-camp marine. But I peel potatoes like an elementary school age Cub Scout on the first day of summer camp, who has just earned his right to carry a pocket knife. Give that kid a knife and within an hour or two of slicing and dicing and little shards of flying wood, he will have carved a few dozen sticks into pencil shapes and a few logs into spears.

With any luck you’ll have only gone through a few band aids and no trips to the emergency room.

That’s how I peel a potato… like a Cub Scout on the first day of summer camp!

Pick up the potato, hold it out in front of you, and start swiping the peeler AWAY FROM YOU. Hunks of peel fly off the potato in all directions, similar to when you are cutting your fingernails in a hotel room.

Gross… I don’t really do that.

But that’s how I peel a potato. I’d never think of drawing the blade TOWARD ME.

That must be how the pros do it. Or how women do it. Or how professional chefs do it. Or how Ninjas do it.

Come to think it of it, that’s how my grandmother used to slice the bananas.

Like a fucking ninja!

Maybe this post really was about bananas.

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When is it okay to stop wanting to have abs?

You all may think I’m a super-confident, courageous, dauntless guy, the way I write posts about being a super-confident courageous, dauntless guy. But I’m really not. I’m actually probably a little insecure about myself which is why I spend so much time worrying about whether my hair is out-of-place or if my clothes look okay or how my abs look underneath a freshly-pressed dress shirt and v-neck sweater.

(See how I snuck that little key word in there!)

Just kidding, I don’t really have abs. I mean, sure, I actually have abs… as in abdominal muscles… we all have abs, but they’re just covered up with layers of doughnuts and bacon and wine.

But I’m talking about abs… like serious Ryan Gosling abs!

RG

I looked back on some old photos and as much as I like to think that I did, I’m not sure I’ve ever really had abs.

Well, maybe I had abs when I was in elementary school (if by abs you mean like the distended stomach of a starving Ethiopian child from a 1980’s Oxfam commercial.)

Or maybe I had abs in high school (if by abs you mean like the protruding rib cage of a waifish uber model on the runway at a New York City fashion show.)

Or maybe I had abs in College (if by abs you mean a “six pack” of Busch Lite three or four nights a week.)

When is it okay to stop wanting to have abs… serious Ryan Gosling abs? To just say fuck it, I’m gonna let it all hang out, saggy old man skin and all. What is it about abs that makes us do countless reps of painful, hellish exercises, even when we are long past the age where that should really matter?

What does great abs really get us?

Other than the fact that a strong core helps avoid serious back problems, there’s likely no evolutionary benefit to having great abs. Did Oog walk around the cave in low-cut Saber Tooth Tiger under pants showing off his inguinal crease with all the cave chicks giggling and saying “Oooooh… Oog Hot”?

I don’t think so.

In fact, Oog probably packed on a little covering of “insulation” during those lean hunting seasons, and from those occasional days sitting on the couch eating Woolly Mammoth burgers and fermented berries.

Did Oog have any trouble impressing chicks? Guessing not or we wouldn’t be here today.

So when is it okay to stop wanting to have abs?

When I’m 50, would it be okay then? That’s only a few years away. How about when I get to 60, would it be okay then to stop wanting to have serious Ryan Gosling abs? When I’m 60, even Ryan Gosling will probably have stopped working on his abs.

I stay in pretty good shape and I’ve never had any trouble keeping my weight where it should be. I work out somewhat regularly in a patched-together gym in one of my barns, and I walk a few miles a day around the house turning off lights that my kids leave on and looking for stuff that I can’t remember where I left.

But each year that goes by, the odds of actually ever seeing my abs again becomes slimmer and slimmer. They’re like that old friend in High School that you promised to stay in touch with but just can’t seem to make it happen.

But I keep trying.

So when is it okay to stop wanting to have abs?

What do you think?

It’s okay, take your time… while you’re composing your answers, I’ll be out in my barn for a couple of hours trying to locate my inguinal crease.

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The Ladybug Song

In my ongoing effort to become a world famous author, songwriter and creator of content for children, I decided to write another song and figured you can’t lose with ladybugs. Everyone loves ladybugs and if you look at the number of published children’s books about our little spotted wing friends, writing about ladybugs is a sure thing.

So please take a listen and let me know what you think. It’s a cute little song, soothing and melodic with a great denouement at the end. See that big word I just used there? Only world famous authors and songwriters can use big words like denouement.

Thanks for listening, I hope you enjoy it… make sure you listen to the whole song though… you know, so you don’t miss the denouement! ;-)

What do you mean you sense sarcasm in my voice?!?

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What kind of Sexual are you?

Disclaimer: This is not a post about SEX. If you arrived here looking for a post about SEX, I’m sorry you’ll have to look elsewhere. But please be sure you subscribe to my blog first.

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Lately I’ve been trying to figure out what kind of sexual I am. I’m not talking Heterosexual or Homosexual or Bisexual or even Asexual. I’m talking about these vague terms that describe the way we men-folk look and dress. Have you noticed, more and more frequently, there seems to be popping up (pun intended), lots of ways to describe men as “________sexual”.

Terms like Metrosexual and Ubersexual.

So I set out to do some research on what kind of sexual I am. I’ve often joked on this site about being a little bit Metrosexual. My nickname amongst my group of friends is “Metro” so I guess maybe I show some signs of fitting that bill. In small town Michigan I probably am a little bit Metrosexual. Put me in Manhattan and I’d probably be labeled frumpy.

metrosexual

Exhibit A: Metrosexual

According to Dictionary.com Metrosexual is defined as:

A heterosexual, usually urban male who pays much attention to his personal appearance and cultivates an upscale lifestyle.

Okay, that sort of works. I am heterosexual and I do often pay attention to my personal appearance as evidenced by the amount of hair product I go through every year. But I’m not really an urban male although I was for a little while many years ago. I guess sometimes I try to cultivate an upscale lifestyle although mostly I prefer my simple small-town lifestyle.

Maybe I’m more of a displaced Metrosexual, more of a Pastoralsexual.

I went looking for other possibilities and came across the category of men-folk classified as Ubersexual.

According to Dictionary.com Ubersexual is defined as:

A man who exhibits traditional masculine qualities as well as the caring nature of the New Man.

Huh?!? What does that even mean?!? I moved on.

Upon further research I discovered that a few months ago the category of men-folk classified as Lumbersexual started to become part of the vernacular. Now granted, how the terms “lumber” and “sexual” fit together is a stretch to most of us unless you want to make lots of jokes about hardwood. But I checked it out and it’s such a new concept that the term does not yet appear in any Dictionary.

But I found this tidbit on Gawker.com

To facilitate an easy discussion, it might help you to think of a Lumbersexual as a foil to the Metrosexual, the alleged nadir of masculinity from last decade. So, instead of slim-legged pants, envision pants with a little extra leg room (see: “regular cut”). Rather than be clean-shaven, the Lumbersexual has an unkempt beard. The Metrosexual is clean and pretty and well-groomed; the Lumbersexual spends the same amount of money, but looks filthy. Sartorially speaking, a Lumbersexual is a delicate tri-blend of L.L. Bean, Timberlake, and Sears.

Okay I thought, that sounds pretty good. Kind of a more rugged and manly metrosexual, an LL Bean type, who is allowed at times to be filthy. That sounded like it might be right up my alley, so I tried it out for a bit.

Lumbersexual

Exhibit B: Lumbersexual

It was all going great, I was feeling manly and filthy and lumbery.

Then one day a couple of weeks ago, I read about a new kind of man-folk called a Spornosexual, another exciting breed of masculinity sprung from the roots of the Metrosexual, and named from a combination of the words “sports” and “porno” and “sexual”.

Esquire Magazine described a Spornosexual as this, while referencing Brad Pitt’s appearance in the movie Fight Club:

The spornosexual is a more extreme breed of man than his metro forebear. He is just as plucked, tanned and moisturised, but leaner, buffer, more jacked and obsessed not just with “looking good” in the abstract, but with the actual physical proportions of his frame: the striation of his abs, the vascularity of his biceps, the definition of his calves.

WOW! That sounded exciting. Lean, buff, jacked, and looking good with striated abs and vascular biceps, whatever that stuff means. So I ripped off the heavy flannel shirt, took three showers to clean off all the accumulated filth, shaved the beard and started working out, three, four, sometimes five times a day. I’d finally found my calling. I was gonna be a “Spornosexual”.

Spornosexual

Exhibit C: Spornosexual

I had done it, I had found the kind of man-folk I wanted to be. I felt good, like Brad Pitt in Fight Club.

But then it all came crashing down. I was burnt out from trying to be something I wasn’t. I just wanted to just be a regular guy again, a husband, a Dad, a friend and a blogger. I wasn’t a Spornosexual or a Lumbersexual or a Ubersexual or even a Metrosexual.

I just wanted to be a regular guy. Because who needs labels anyway?

So, that’s what I did.

And you have to admit, there’s something sexy about that!

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A Valentine’s Day Song

So I’ve been working on a song for Valentine’s Day. This is a pretty big Valentine’s Day this year. It doesn’t often fall on a Saturday, plus with the whole Fifty Shades phenomenon going on should be lots of fun for couples.

It’s called “On Valentine’s Day You Don’t Get No Say”.

I think it’s pretty good, kind of a love song, country western kind of tune, you know, from the guy’s perspective.  This is just a draft. Let me know what you think!

I have to give some credit to Ross Murray at Drinking Tips for Teens for a little inspiration on this whole topic with his recent, very funny post about Valentine’s Day and Fifty Shades.

You can and should go read it here!

And if you liked this post, or even if you didn’t like this post, you might really like this Valentine’s post from a couple years ago: A Conversation Heart Conversation

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Let’s Have a Super Bowl Party!

Hey all, its Super Bowl time! As you know, the Super Bowl has become the only sporting event that is celebrated like a National Holiday. Hopefully you get the opportunity to enjoy this amazing event with family and friends. At Brown Road, we always celebrate Super Bowl Sunday with some new tailgate style recipes.

Here’s this year’s menu. We’ve thoroughly tested these recipes over the last week or so to be sure everything runs smoothly and so we could confidently share them with our readers. These recipes can be served with your choice of alcoholic or non-alcoholic beverages.

1.Bill Belichips

billichipsIngredients:
1 lb bag corn flour
2 cups snake oil
Red and blue food coloring

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Put corn flour, snake oil and 12.5 drops each of red and blue food coloring in a large mixing bowl
Quickly and discretely remove 2 drops of red and blue food coloring
Mix thoroughly
Once mixed place flour on counter top and spread thinly with a rolling pin
Cut into triangles and place on baking sheet
Place into oven for 30 minutes
Serve with your favorite salsa or guacamole

2. Pinocchio Breadsticks

pinnochio

Ingredients:
Go to the local Fazoli’s restaurant, order the cheapest thing on the menu and score as many free, unlimited breadsticks as you can carry in your pockets or hand bag

Instructions:
Bring them home and serve in your favorite Pinocchio breadstick dispenser

3. Seahawk Soup

seagullIngredients:
1 large onion diced
3 large carrots diced
5 stalks celery diced
1 large live Seahawk (you can catch these at the local landfill, they’re really just seagulls)
8 cups water

Instructions:
Mix all ingredients except live seahawk in a large pot and bring to a boil
Bring temperature down to a simmer
Place live Seahawk in pot and cover (similar to how you would cook a lobster)
Let simmer for one hour.
Serve with Pinnochio Breadsticks

4. Crotch Grab Croissants

croissantsIngredients:
1 tsp yeast
½ cup milk
1 tsp sugar
2 cups flour
1 seagull egg
1 tsp each Green and Blue food coloring

Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Place all ingredients in a large mixing bowl
Reach down between your legs and hold your junk for 30 seconds like Marshawn Lynch
Without washing your hands, mix all ingredients in the bowl
Shape dough into croissant shapes and place on large baking sheet
Place in oven for 30 minutes
While croissants are cooking, stand in front of oven holding your junk again and repeating over and over “I’m just here so I don’t get fined.” This last step is important to ensure that the food coloring morphs into the proper imagery.

5. Tom Brady Brownies

brownies

Ingredients:
Any box brownie mix will do
8 oz premium marijuana

Instructions:
Prepare brownie mix per instructions on box
While preparing brownie mix, smoke one or two bongs of the marijuana
Place about ½ of the remaining marijuana into the brownie mix
Cook brownies per instructions on box
Continue smoking the marijuana
Tom Brady will magically appear on the brownies
Eat all of the brownies
Eat all of the rest of the food in the entire house

Hope you enjoy these fine recipes! Happy Super Bowl! Have fun and as always don’t drink and drive.

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Where did all my BILFs go?

bubbles

When Brown Road Chronicles was at its peak back in late 2013 before I took my fourteen month-long sabbatical, I had a long list of BILFs. This list was an extraordinary compilation of BILFs culled from many intensive years of blogging, liking, reading, and commenting. Sometimes even just a quick glance at a blogger’s avatar and I instantly knew that they’d be a strong candidate for my list of BILFs. More importantly, a timely, well thought out blog post or comment, full of voluptuous and shapely words that exemplified years of writing experience was sure to get a blogger on my list of BILFs.

So, what had once been a short list of BILFs when I had first started blogging had over time grown into a long list of about seventy-five BILFs.

What was I going to do with all these BILFs? I could barely keep track of all of them. I felt overwhelmed.

Several times I tried condensing my list of BILFs. But it was challenging and complicated because once you’ve determined a blogger is a BILF it’s difficult to just scratch them off of a list.

Plus these were all BILFs who wrote words that were fresh and polished and sexy. These were BILFs who wrote words that exuded sophistication and competency. These were BILFs who were no doubt seasoned and mature, full of deep metaphors and profound thoughts and humor.

Especially humor. Because, although a blogger can dress their site up with lots of fancy imagery, a good sense of humor is one of the primary means of becoming one of my BILFs.

But something had to give.

One day I dug down deep and found the strength. I fired up WordPress and sorted through the long list of BILFs, hour after hour, contemplating whether each was really still a BILF or if I was hanging on to old memories, remembering old posts, focusing on days gone past. Some of the BILFs had long since abandoned their sites, given up, stopped trying. Those were the simplest BILFs to say goodbye to. They weren’t BILFs anymore and they were easy to cross off the list, although there were a select number of these inactive BILFs who were my very first BILFs and who I decided should always remain.

Then there were the BILFs who were still around but who just didn’t have the same appeal as when we had first met. They had become old and stale and boring and with some clarity of thought I was able to determine that they were no longer BILFs either and they were removed from my list. It was a long process but I was able to narrow the list from about seventy-five BILFs down to about fifty BILFs.

That’s about how many BILFs I have now, approximately fifty. I have met a few new BILFs since I reopened Brown Road Chronicles at the beginning of the year and I am looking forward to getting to know those BILFs better. But on a recent scan through those original fifty or so BILFs I discovered that only about twenty, at best, are still active. Perhaps it’s time to sort through the list of BILFs again.

Now let’s be frank here, in this widespread community of talent there’s certainly no shortage of BILFs. And now that I’m back at this on a pretty steady basis, I’d definitely like to discover some new BILFs.

So here’s your job.

If you’re a regular here, you should have a good read on my personality and sense of humor. In the comments section, please recommend one or two of your BILFs… bloggers that you like to follow… that you think I might like to follow as well.

I’ll take a look and perhaps they’ll become one of my BILFs too.

My Bloggers I Like to Follow….

What did you think I was talking about?!?

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