Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving, you Chuckleheads!!

Something happened Wednesday night that kinda sums up what, at least for me, is Thanksgiving.

Allow me to ‘splain….

When I got married years ago…

For the bride and groom dance at our wedding, I wanted to dance to a song called, “Biloxi” by Jimmy Buffet.

For our honeymoon, I wanted to go to Biloxi.

I got neither of those things…In aspects such as those…My opinion didn’t matter, evidently.

That always sat in my stomach like an olive pit that won’t make its way through the colon.

Among more than a few things that drove my wife and I apart on both our parts, the song and honeymoon thing always irritated me.

I know…

We both had serious, justifiable problems with each other in our marriage, but the fact that I didn’t get my choice of honeymoon destination or dance song has always fucking ticked me off.

But you know what?

Wednesday night, as Schmoop and I were listening to music on You Tube, I played “Biloxi” by Jimmy Buffet, and over to me she came.

She sat on my lap, put her arm around me, and said…

“We will, in all likelihood, never get married, but if we do…we will dance to this song.”

We didn’t get married last night, but we did dance to that song…twice.

On this Thanksgiving, I want to say that, I love you guys. I love my brothers and sisters. I can’t begin to describe the love I have for Ryno, however…

There is one person who comes close to the level of love that I have for Ryno, and of course, that is my BFF/OSP…Schmoop.

She is the one who promised me the song and with whom I have danced with not only last night, but for the past ten years.

So, on this Thanksgiving other than my son getting decent grades like I knew he could, I am thankful for the Schmoop.

I dig her...I love her.

I am cooking all day (what, I don’t know yet), and drinking, and “expressing my love” to Schmoop.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving folks, and as always…

Cheers!!

He Said...She Said

Most folks will be busy getting drunk and eating turkey with their families tomorrow, I thought today we’d do this week’s installment of, He Said…She Said where Schmoop and I banter back and forth through the magic of Microsoft Word.

Sound good? Well alrightie then. Let’s get down to biddness!!

Schmoop: Babe, I had this dream last night, and well…you are not going to be happy.

Matt: Oh dear God…What?

Schmoop: Well, I’m sorry, but I dreamed that I had sex with…Bill O’Reilly.

Matt: I think I just threw up a little.

Schmoop: YOU threw up, how on earth do you think I feel? At least, in my dream, there weren’t any detailed visuals, if you know what I mean.

Matt: Well that’s good. Well as good as you can hope for with a dream like that. And to think, I was going to ask you what you were thankful for since it’s Thanksgiving time.

Schmoop: I’m thankful that it wasn’t Glenn Beck!

Matt: I would never be able to look at you the same way again if it was. Either way, I feel sexually disenfranchised now.

Schmoop: OMFG! You know how much I hate the word disenfranchised!! Among many others of course.

Matt: Hee. Hee. Yes I know, but when I say, disenfranchised, it makes my nether regions MOIST!!

Schmoop: Ha! Another word I hate. I get where this is going! Panties or slacks!!

Matt: Ha…I hate both of those words as much as you do. When I hear those words, it makes me feel as though I coming down with a FUNGAL infection!!

Schmoop: Let’s see…girlie bits, smegma, lima beans, urp (my Mother’s word for vomit), Mika Brzezinski. Shall we go on? I think so. Next.

Matt: One more…one more. More than a word, but rather a phrase at which you and I both shudder…Hold on to your disenfranchised panties for this one…MAKE LOVE!!

Schmoop: You suck! Ok, if you want to MAKE LOVE, you are not for me! Ewww. How about you just grab my ass and say “You wanna fuck?” Or how about “Let’s get horizontal”, Get’s me going every time. Make love? Gross.

Matt: “Make love” is so teen coming of age movie, and Lifetime Network-ish. Sure it’s fine for poetry, but when I’m horny I want to get naked with a hot chick, not snuggle up with a lyrical line of iambic pentameter.

Schmoop: True. I just want to have a few beers, screw, lay naked, and sweaty, (because I refuse to say cuddle, eww), eat, and go to sleep. That is where all of my talents lie.

Matt: So…Would you like to put your talents to use and do just that?

Schmoop: Why yes sir, I would.

Matt: Sweeeet. Afterwards, we can CUDDLE!! Ha!!

Schmoop: Augggggh!! Cuntnugget.

And there you have it folks, our He Said…She Said for the week.

Make sure to listen to I’m With Stupid on Blog Talk Radio this Friday at 11 PM EST.

We will discuss Jayman’s recent pilgrimage to Omaha. We will kick off the annual War on Christmas™, and we will have an exclusive Christmasy type song sung by yours truly.

To go to our BTR Radio site click HERE.

Have a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving, all.

Cheers!!

Happy 18th Birthday Miley Cyrus!!

People across America are asscited because later this week, many across this fine nation, will delight in a four day weekend beginning with Thanksgiving on Thursday.

Thursday for many, will be a day off full of food, drink, football and, fun, yet violent domestic violence calls.

On Friday, also known as Black Friday…

Millions of Baby Jeebus lovin’ Americans sporting NASCAR ball caps, I Heart Sarah Palin T-Shirts, and pajama bottoms will storm the doors of Wal*Mart at 0500 and lay down cash for a well priced Wii while using their welfare debit card to pay for a three month supply of frozen pizzas and Little Debbie snack cakes.

After all, what’s a good game on the Wii or Xbox without something to nosh on!? Well, one must have a drink as well, so add a case of Mello Yello and Tahitian Treat to the public bill of fare as well.

Anyhoo…

It’s the official kick-off to the Christmas Season, but as for me?

My Thanksgiving feast and kick-off to the 2010 Christmas Season begin today, November 23rd. For on this day, Miley Cyrus turns 18 and becomes legal and oh so tender.

That’s right my friends…

Eighteen years ago, Billy Ray Cyrus and his wife Tish Ray Cyrus watched excitedly as the lovely Miley popped out from Mrs. Ray Cyrus’ vagina.

After the medical team employed Billy Ray’s mullet to wipe the placenta residue from Miley’s face, it was apparent to all, that this child was on her Hollywood Walk of Fame path to stardom.

Ever since I came across pictures of Miley Cyrus during a late night Google Image search that accidentally contained the words, “Hot 12 Year Old Babes”, I have been enthralled by Miley’s beauty.

And now, six years later…I no longer have to fear Chris Hansen and public scorn hide my very adult feelings for Miley.

Today I can openly and gleefully say…

I long for Miley’s misshapen cheeks, her crooked front tooth, her small yet oh so nubile breastesses, as well the adipose tissue that lies sensually above her pubic bone.

Indeed my friends, indeed. For me, Christmas has already come…several times over.

I have even written a Christmas song for Miley, and I hope that perhaps she, in all of her new found adulthood, will come to Bagwine and record it with me.

It’s called, “I Came Upon You at Midnight Dear.”

That would make for the bestest Christmas ever. So Miley Cyrus, my dear…

When you blow out the candles on your cake today, think of it as your Emancipation Proclamation from sexual bondage.

And think of me as your Great Emancipator. In fact…

You and I can get naked tonight and play a sweaty game of, Newly Freed Slave Girl and The Horny Abolitionist!!

While you are on top of me riding my rock hard 13th Amend-meat to the land of milk, honey, and womanhood, I want to hear you scream to the world…

“Free Me, Abra-Matt Lincoln, Free Me!!”

So I shall, Miley, So I shall.

Happy 18th Birthday to Miley Cyrus.

Working a long one at the Beer Mine today, so I shall see you all later tonight or early Wednesday.

Cheers!!

He Said...She Said

It's Thursday so you know what that means. That's Right..!!

Time for another installment of He Said...She Said where Schmoop and I take turns bantering with each other via the magic that is Microsoft Works.

Enjoy...

Matt: So…I don’t have to work Thanksgiving after all…Whatcha want me to make for our solemn Thanksgiving repast?

Schmoop: Let me think. You have always made such great dinners, but I think this year we should make it simple. Taco Bell or pizza. Oh, and beer, and sex. You game?

Matt: It’s always simple. I make a turkey breast…scalloped corn…some veggies and rolls. What’s the big deal? I want to do that as always.

Schmoop: Ok, but you’d have to do it all!! I even burn rolls! Oh the humanity!!

Matt: Of course I’d do it all…Holy Cow, remember you made a green bean casserole that was the consistency of soup, and rolls? Once, you didn’t even put them in the oven!!

Schmoop: You are a dicktwizzlingfucknozzle. Yes that is one word. Oh alright, I suck at cooking. Happy Pappy!!

Matt: You don’t suck at cooking; you just don’t put your heart into it like I do. I do…you on the other hand, don’t care if you kill someone.

Schmoop: Awww, you’re so sweet! I do to care if I kill someone, but we never have company, so…..

Matt: Seriously though…What do you want on Turkey Day? Whatever you want….within reason…

Schmoop: How about either a turkey breast, or chicken. Mmmm chicken. Oh, and some scalloped corn with green onions, I can do that. Rolls, and Taco Bell??

Matt: Turkey or Chicken (or even ham if that’s all we can afford) breast soaked in a crockpot w/ broth. Scalloped Corn, Green Bean Casserole, and some rolls….that’s all. How’s That? I’ll cook everything.

Schmoop: Deal. I’ll clean everything up, and we’ll eat sitting on the “new” couch watching football. Good?

Matt: Sounds good, and consider it done. However, can we have sex afterward in honor of the Pilgrims?

Schmoop: Most definitely! Before, during, after. After all, sex and Thanksgiving, and football go hand in hand, don’t they? That’s my story anyhow.

Matt: Your story is great, because other than that , Thanksgiving has no meaning. It’s merely a kick-off to the Christmas season anymore.

Schmoop: Yes it is, and oh how I loathe Christmas. The stores started putting out that crap at Halloween. I know you love the season, and I’m sorry, but our Thanksgiving is gonna be great!

Matt: Don’t be sorry…I love it…I can’t wait to eat, drink, and be merry with ya. As for the rest of the bullshit…Thou shall sayeth: Fuck Ith.

Schmoop: Amen.

Matt: And stay away from the cooking…

Oh....the last picture? That was the Cheesy-Green Onion Cornbread I made to accompany the chili I made last night. Yum-Oh!!

Happy Thursday all, and as always…

Cheers!!

A Brief Change of Venue

Time for a brief Bagwine Ruminations break, Bitches.

That’s right.

I am going to focus on a few things for the upcoming Thanksgiving Extravaganza on I’m With Stupid which airs this Friday at 11 PM EST on Blog Talk Radio.

My next "real" post on here will be Thursday's installment of He Said…She Said.

I may throw up a couple of mindless Thanksgiving realated things in the meantime. You know, something like this cartoon I did a couple of years ago:


Or like this:


So, until Thursday and He Said…She Said, I bid you adieu.

More or less.

Cheers!!

I'm With Stupid: Thanksgiving Recipe for Disaster

Okay, Chuckleheads. I got nothing for ya today.

Nothing, nada, zip…bupkus. So…

I would like to let you know early in the week that this Friday, November 19th at 11 PM EST on Blog Talk Radio, I’m With Stupid will be celebrating Thanksgiving.

That’s right, folks.

Jay and I will be feasting on turkey, pumpkin pie, and your souls as we serve up some laughs at the expense of you, ourselves and the plight of American Indians.

Oh sorry…Native Americans. Whatever.

We are pulling out all the stops for our Thanksgiving Extravaganza.

Jay will be on location and broadcasting live from the very spot where the first Thanksgiving took place centuries ago. You guessed it…

Nebraska.

Holy Cow and spank me like a Puritan gone wild, that’s some big news, no? Damn right.

I will be singing a very special Thanksgiving song which I have written for you, and we may have an interview with everyone’s favorite salmon eatin’ Shoshone babe and Lewis and Clark tour guide, Sexagawea.

Hi-Ya Ho-Ho…Hi-Ya Ho Ho.

Hell kidz, Jayman has already been cookin’ up some Turkey Day excitement for you.

Just the other night at the, Sorry You Got Your Ass Kicked Blanche Lincoln Party held at the Hotel Seville Magnuson Grand, Jay ran into Kevin Spacey and sweet talked the Academy Award winner into doing a promo for our show:

Click where it says: twaudio

This show is going to be bigger than the Thanksgiving Day buffet at the Golden Corral. In fact…

I am so excited that three hours prior to this week’s show, I am putting down the Rose and not drinking anything other than NOS until the show begins.

I am going to be jacked up, wired beyond belief, and ready to stuff your bird.

Also if you’d like to be interviewed by us as a way to pimp out your blog, drop Jayman or myself an email.

And remember, if you’d like to listen to any of our past shows, you can listen to them by going to our Blog Talk Radio page here:

Listen to internet radio with Im With Stupid on Blog Talk RadioHave a great Monday, a fantastic week, and as always…

Cheers!!

If It's November, It's Party Time!!

Welcome to November, you chuckleheads!!

This month is full of nothing but full throttle excitement. What do I mean? Now listen up, and dig it!!

First off, tomorrow, November 2nd , is Election Day. I know; I know…many of you who do vote, may have already voted, but me? I’m a purist.

Tomorrow I will walk to work at about 1:30 PM and on my way, stop at my polling place to let my nasally, twangy voice be heard in a political and metaphorical sense.

Strickland for Governor…yes!! Richard Cordray for Attorney General…yes!! All of the other races? Who the fuck cares!?

With any luck, I’ll be voting next to some hot, uptight, Conservative chick who is desperate for the high hard one, and is up for some chad dangling and cock-us-ing. I dig democracy in action.

Tuesday, November 9th is World Freedom Day and I plan on celebrating big time.

I’m going to go to work completely nekkid, pee in the streets, and grab a strangers tit in order to find out if I am truly free, or that the cops will be called and I find that true freedom is but a mere pipe dream.

November 11th is of course Veteran’s Day so...

I will honor the memory of those who have served in the defense of this great nation by buying a pair of Ralph Lauren Tyler Vintage Chinos which were $65.00 for only $10.99 at Macy’s Veteran’s Day Sale!! U-S-A!! U-S-A!!

What month doesn’t go by without another Jewish or Muslim holiday? November doesn’t disappoint, as we celebrate the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Adha. Damn right!!

Allahites everywhere will be honoring Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son, Ishmael, to God, but was given the kinder, gentler option by the Great Googly Moogly of Godliness of being allowed to kill a ram…or goat…or something.

I will celebrate by instead of killing my son Ryno, butchering my cat, Corky. If you’d like to join me, let me know; we’ll nosh on some really tender pussy together.

The big one this month is of course, Thanksgiving.

Americans everywhere will be eating turkey, drinking wine, chowing down on pumpkin pie, and precipitating a myriad of domestic violence calls on November 25th.

I think it is wonderful and appropriate that Thanksgiving falls during the same month as Native American Indian Heritage Month.

I guess I should work in a trip to a casino and develop small pox along with a mild case of cirrhosis of the liver in honor of all the heap big chiefs and squaws this month as well. How!!

Oh guess what else happens in November…I’m With Stupid will be airing every Friday at 11 PM Eastern all through November.

Now Bitches…tell me that ain’t big!! Uh-huh, thought so.

Jay and I will provide you with all of your November humor this month. So get stupid with us every Friday. And…

In case you missed it, you can listen to our Halloween show that we did this past Friday right here:

Have a wunnerful Monday and an even better, fun-filled month of November.

Cheers!!

Thanks for the Foodaries

I hope that everyone had a most enjoyable Thanksgiving and that no one experienced familial drama, drunk driving arrests, or virulent bowel movements due to salmonella tainted turkey.

I had a most enjoyable day.

I worked 10A-2P yesterday and while I was there, my brother Marty stopped by to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. But, that’s not all he did…

He came bearing three bags of groceries. Knowing that Schmoop and I were eschewing cooking a big dinner this year for various reasons, he brought dinner to us!!

Indeed…Salvation Marty came to the Beer Mine with an armful of culinary delights.

He brought a wonderful 3 lb. La Rosa’s lasagna (a regional fave), a loaf of crusty garlic bread, green beans, Tuscan style shrimp, whipped butter, salad, salad dressing, a bottle of wine (that actually had a cork), and to give it that Thanksgiving feel, a pumpkin pie.

And folks…That is exactly what we had for Thanksgiving dinner last night, and it was the best Thanksgiving dinner we have ever had.

But there was more to the day than that. Shortly after I got home from work, Schmoop’s brother David stopped by to imbibe a few Pilgrim Day cocktails with us.

David brought a few beers with him as usual, but that’s not all…

He also brought a big conscription of ham and sweet potatoes that he had made for Schmoop and I. Holy Cow…or is that, Holy Swine?

Anyhoo…It was incredibly thoughtful of him, and as we typically do, we appreciate the hell out of that mother fucker.

All of this dove tails on the fact that I mentioned yesterday that Wednesday night Pizza Bill brought down an ample supply of his Bagwine famous pizza to the Drive-Thru.

When you add all of this food and kindness up, from this past Wednesday until tomorrow evening, we will have dined entirely on the cooking skillz and compassion of others.

That my friends, makes for a healthy diet for both body and soul.

I want to thank Marty, his wife, David, and Pizza Bill for what they have done, and I’m looking forward to the day that I once again start making some decent money so that I can pay these magnificent bastards back.

Not because I think that they feel that I need to or because I think I have to. But, because I want to. And that’s that.

With that being said…While I am now hacking up and expelling nasty crap from my lung (which is good), other than being tired more than usual, I am feeling pretty okay.

Hopefully beginning Monday, I will be back to posting on my normal schedule and up for returning all comments.

I’d hate not being able to make fun of the rampant stupidity that goes on during the holidays. There’s so much out there.

Have a glorious weekend, and this Saturday? Go Eastern Illinois!! Neuter Those Salukis!!

Cheers!!

Thanksgiving: Mucho Thank-O

Happy Thanksgiving!!

As I type this, I am drinking some joe and chuckling at Schmoop’s bed head.

I have to work 10 A.M.-2 P.M. in order to make sure that the Bagwine pilgrims and pilgirlz have plenty of ale on hand with which to wash down their fowl.

I mentioned yesterday, that our Bagwine T-Day feast will consist of some type of fast food this year. Pizza was high on the list of probable choices.

Well last night, Pizza Bill stopped by work and dropped off a hefty amount of leftovers of his fan-damn-tastic pizza so we ate much of that last night. (Thank you very much by the way, Mr. Bill.) Thusly, no pizza today, well…I’m sure we’ll finish Bill’s up, but you know…

So, I think our Thanksgiving feast may consist of an array of delicacies from Taco Bell. That’s right, an American tradition celebrated with fast food ala Mexico.

It does make sense in a way. Just think…

If today was the first time that the pilgrims and Indians were gathering for a friendly feast to celebrate good will and the abundance of their harvest, who is it that would have harvested the crops?

Damn right…Migrant Mexican vegetable pickers. “Tote thy okra and load yonder maize, Paco. Here’s a dram of Sorghum for your troubles!!”

See…there is a connection…or something. Anyhoo…

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. In order to help you enjoy your Thanksgiving feast even more, please remember this:

When you scoop up a big spoonful of cranberries, look closely at them. Tell me they don’t look like hemorrhoids. Uh-huh. Food for thought from the Matt-Man.

Enjoy folks, and…

Cheers!!

Thanksgiving: Breaking Tradition

The holiday season kicks off tomorrow with Thanksgiving, and guess what?

I’m working!! Eh, it’s no big deal. I asked Little Bill if I could work four of his hours at the Beer Mine on Thanksgiving and he said, “sure.” At least I think he did; the little fucker mumbles. Anyhoo…

I need extra hours and it’s only 10 A.M. until 2 P.M., so what the hell?

Does this impinge on the celebration for my BFF/OSP, Schmoop and I? Noooooo.

We had already decided that this year between my deflated lung and ever inflating bills (made even more buoyant by my spa stay at the hospital) that we would be subdued.

No perfectly cooked turkey or scalloped corn cooked by moi. And, no undercooked (yet adorable) green bean casserole and burnt (albeit sexy) rolls ala Schmoop.

So, when I get done working at 2 on Thanksgiving, I am going to pick up either pizza, Taco Bell, or some other deliciously greasy fast food and tote it home to my uber-hot Indian Maiden.

We’ll have a few drinks, watch some football, and talk about nothing.

There won’t be a traditional feast, but we’ll be feasting on food we love. There won’t be a seasonally adorned dinner table. Instead, she’ll eat while laying on the floor and I on the couch.

Corky will conduct her typical sniffing of our food prior to going to sleep in the chair after she finds that what we are eating is not chicken, so it doesn’t suit her “sophisticated palate.”

(The same “sophisticated” palate that has no problem tasting her own butt or hoo-ha during her frequent bathing.)

Schmoop will call her mom. I will probably call some family, and then as darkness sets in, we will both turn in for the night.

Sounds mundane, no? I don’t know…

While there is no extravagant culinary experience, there is food. We have a warm, safe place to lay our heads so there is no fear of the darkness.

Most importantly, while our guest list consists of only Schmoop and I, we are far from being alone.

And really, other than those simple things what more is there to be thankful for? Not much.

Okay, some sex would be good, but well…I’m still injured.

Cheers!!

Thanksgiving Recipe: Football, Food, and Hold the Blathering

I am looking forward to this Thanksgiving more than any other in recent memory.

Why? Because I have become so fucking bored and addle-minded due to all of the political punditry, prognostication, and repetition of the same vapid crap on the cable “news” shows.

Thanksgiving will offer me a respite from all of this.

Health Care…Anymore, when an “in-the know” panel begins to discuss and debate Health Care reform, my eyes glaze over…my ass hole tightens…and the left side of my upper lip twitches.

I hope that if anything in this area does gets passed, that my syndrome will be covered.

But nothing substantial, if anything will get passed. And why should it? If there is nothing in any proposed bill to control costs, what’s the damn point?

I think my breaking point on this entire issue was when the Senate debated eight hours on a vote that would allow debate on the Senate bill.

And here I thought that our legislators were already there to debate such issues. Silly Matt-Man. Pffffft.

Sarah Palin…Oh Dear GAWD!! I can’t believe I am saying this, but…I am sick of hearing from and about Sarah “Lame and Dull” Palin. I know, she is a source of comedy, but her empty-headedness has reached the point of the mundane.

She’s not going to be President. She’s not a force to be reckoned with. She’s a half-term iglooramus that is going to make a lot of money and have a talk show some day.

Good for her, now go make a made for TV movie of her life and show it on the Lifetime Network.

Lifetime could debut her movie right after a showing of the TV cinematic event…God’s Favorite Vegetable: The Terri Schiavo Story.

Ugh…It’s the same old shit. Climate change. I don’t really care. I mean, I want a clean, freely spinning on its axis Earth, but stop the moaning and gnashing of teeth folks. We’ll live to see another day.

And now? There’s the this whole Afghanistan thing. When will Obama make up his mind? When will he stop dithering? Pfffft. Who fucking cares?

Obama is taking his time on a strategy, good for him.

It is almost winter in Afghanistan and there isn’t going to be a whole helluva lot going on for a few months. Maybe his options suck because they all have us staying in Afghanistan for several years.

I say we buy up the poppy fields. Employ the Afghans to cultivate and harvest them and sell the crop to the pharmaceutical companies so they can produce all of the medicinal opiates that they need.

We take our cut, and the rest of the money can be used to build infrastructure, schools, and housing. On top of that, the unemployment rate in Afghanistan would be like 4%. That’s how you make people happy.

See? Unlike other talking heads…I have just defined victory in Afghanistan. Happy Afghans.

And please network talking heads…Quit saying that Obama, in order to decide our strategy, has convened his “war council”.

War Council? WTF?

Are we living in 14th Century England and Obama is King Edward III discussing plans for the Battle of Crécy?

Just…Stop…It…

Anyhoo. Thanksgiving will offer me the opportunity to eat, drink, and watch TV that will be devoid of all of this blathering for nearly four full days.

I am very much looking forward to all of the coverage of football, sappy family stories, and video of early morning shoppers storming the stores for Christmas bargains.

For that, I am truly thankful.

Cheers!!

Thanksgiving...A Cornucopia of Traditions

It's Thanksgiving week here in the glorious and gluttonous United States of America. Food, booze, and on Friday, credit cards will be flying as we give thanks as a nation.

It's a grand American tradition, and nowhere is the Thanksgiving tradition more honored than here at Bagwine Ruminations.

Let's take a look at some previous Thanksgiving related Bagwine pictures, videos, and stories shall we?

It's Thanksgiving week, bitches!! And we'll be celebrating all week. Enjoy.

An Inky and Lola Spin-Off...



A moving song I wrote some two years and 35 pounds ago...

A future look at Thanksgiving that I wrote in 2008...

I thought I would channel my magical six and a half pound turkey breast, Lola Fowllana, to see what future Thanksgivings may hold for me…

Say, in twenty years from now.

Man, by that time my kid will be 34. I’ll be nearly 64, and my nutsack will have dropped down another 8 inches.

Instead of being nearly bald, I will be completely bald. I won’t have any of my real teeth, but by God, I will have a set of futuristic dentures.

I’ll still cook a bird, potatoes, dressing, and since I’ll have teeth, I may even have some maize on the cob.

I’ll just have to make sure not to overdue it, lest my brand new colostomy bag break open like a New Orleans levee.

That would certainly put a damper, not to mention an intolerable stench, on the holiday.

I don’t know if Schmoop will still be with me.

I mean, as it is now, I walk around the abode all day, half naked scratching my boys, by then I will have completely given up on life and just walk around all day fully naked scratching them.

I can see how she might grow weary of that.

Then again, she might not even notice ‘cause she’ll be too busy trying not to trip over her 40 Cs that are in a race to the floor with my aforementioned nutsack.

Eh, we’ll be together. I think Satan has made a pact with God on that. Besides, who would color her hair and get things cooked prior to the big feast?

Perhaps my son and his new wife will stop by to see dear old Dad. That would be nice.

I would give him a big hug, and give his sexy, tall, spouse with the perfect breasts an even tighter and longer lasting one...and some tongue.

Then they’ll leave and go over to his mom’s for Thanksgiving dinner. And once again, it will be just Schmoop and I.

We’ll make a toast. I’ll serve the food...

And then, maybe when we are done eating, we will, as we now do most Saturday nights, slow dance to a song or two in our tiny apartment.

Exhausted from the big day, we will go to bed, smile at each other, and exchange a soft kiss and our goodnights.

Then, as I roll over to turn out the light…

I'll see that the clock reads Six-O'-Fucking-Clock P.M.!!

Cheers!!

Sunday Morning Church Disservice: Reaping Riches

It is going to be a warm (47 F) and partly sunny Sabbath here in Bagwine, Ohio today.

So, working in the beer mines from 11-7 today won’t be too awful.

I do have a bit of a Birthday hangover, but all in all I feel fantastic.

Here’s the thing…

Of late, I have been tied up with things involving Ryno but those things seem to be clearing up. (Although I am helping him with a Science Project this week.)

I still have a tax issue to resolve for Schmoop. (Nothing major just a filing hang up, but annoying nonetheless.)

So because of all of this, I haven’t been around like I usually am. I don’t like that. It’s not my nature.

Schmoop will tell ya, I like you guys far more than most people I interact with here in Bagwine.

Anyhoo, I will be able to rectify that after this upcoming week. My schedule and headaches should be over with by then.

Here’s the message I am preaching on this Sunday…Thank You.

I believe it was Friday. Schmoop and I were talking about her cut in hours and finding a new job. She said half jokingly, yet in a nervous type of manner:

Damn, we’re poor.

I told her that we are not poor. We are broke. There’s a difference.

Poor means you have nothing, including skills, friends, a place to live…no hope.

We have those things. We just don’t have a lot of money. We aren’t poor; we are simply broke.

Based upon the comments you have left over the last couple of days, the posts, the phone calls and emails I received, and the material generosity of some in my life…

These acts of kindness revolving around my Birthday prove the fact, that we are not poor. In some ways, we are quite rich.

I will get around to thanking you all personally, but in the meantime...

I want to thank Schmoop’s brother David, my brother Matre’ and his wife, and of course, Schmoop.

Schmoop, last night was fuckin’ incredible, and girl? You claim to have a hemorrhoid, but try as I did, I couldn’t find it. ; )~~

Thank you all, and now if you will, help me spread the wealth of kindness.

Acerbic, sarcastic, smokin’ hot Bagwine reader and fellow blogger Starr, turns 40 today. This chick never fails to make me laugh, and the world is better because she is in it.

Please stop by her site by clicking HERE, and wish her a very happy entrance into her fourth decade of life.

I love ya Starr…And hopefully, one day you and Schmoop will allow me to show you just how much. Happy Birthday.

And now, in honor of Starr’s B-Day, a song…She’s a HUGE U2 fan so playing a song by them would be too obvious.

I chose this song by Green Day instead. Why?

Because I can hear Starr saying every one of these lyrics to any asshole she comes across in her life. Enjoy!!

Cheers!!

Don't Give Baby Jeebus a Black Friday Eye

Wow…

What a wonderful Thanksgiving we had here at the Bagwine digs.

The food, prepared lovingly by Chef Me, was fantastic. We drank mucho grog, and I phoned a few friends and family members.

I hope all of you had an equally good time…Not a better time, just…equally good.

But all good things come to an end, I guess.

I have to work tonight and ALL frickin’ weekend. ALL day Saturday, and ALL day Sunday. Such is life; I shall muddle through.

At least it’s sunny. A sunny day in Ohio in late November is a rare as a one sentence answer from Joe Biden.

I guess that a couple of short posts this weekend, and a quasi-respite away from the computer is actually a welcome thing.

I don’t want to just jump into the Christmas season frivolity here at Bagwine Ruminations, right after Thanksgiving.

I refuse to be like the department stores who mock Thanksgiving and use today and this weekend to usher in the crass commercialization of the birth of the Holy Baby Jeebus.

(Mad Low Prices at My Café Press Shop…Click on the Bagwine Tank Top on the Left!!)

I’m above the fray as far as bastardizing such a (Want Matt-Man on Your Hoo-Ha? Buy a Bagwine Thong!!) season of solemnity, with greed and avarice.

This next month will be the most offensive holy tribute to the Christians, Jews, and Kwanzaa celebratin’ mo-foes ever witnessed here at Bagwine Ruminations…(Which Offers Quality Products via Café Press…just click HERE)

So folks, enjoy your Friday and your weekend (Enjoy it Even More in Your Bagwine T-Shirt!! Your Friends Will Be Green With Envy!!)

I’ll be around here and there with a couple of brief posts, but I am going to idle things down here over the weekend.

Until the Kick-Off of the Holy Baby Jeebus Season on Monday…

Cheers!!

Holy Deep Fried Fowl...I Forgot My Song!!

For a more reflective Thanksgiving post, you can scroll down to the next one, but for a little levity (almost invisible) I give you this...

I recorded this last year when I was a little younger and about 15 pounds heavier...Which, I plan on regaining after today. The weight...not the youth.

Enjoy!!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Cheers!!

Thanksgiving Present

On this day of Thanksgiving…

Delight in the aroma of the roasting turkey intermingling with the smell of the simmering gravy.

Raise your glass of wine; revel in the excitement of the game; relax within the comforting arms of your friends and family.

Enjoy your abundance to the fullest, but don’t lose sight of the richness and bounty that lies within humility and simplicity.

Some have more than others…some less.

But, if we all look inward and to ourselves speak the truth, we will see that there is at least one thing, or something, for which we have to be thankful.

And if today, you may be having trouble with finding that one thing, let my dad’s words of nearly thirty years ago afford you some help.

DEO GRATIAS

O Lord, I’m forever grateful
for the warmth and grace
of a sun-kissed day;
The flowers, rain drenched,
after a sudden storm,
and the champagne laughter
of children at play.

But I’m thankful too,
for the pregnant hush
of a Summer’s night;
the horned moon, star gathering,
and the dove and the owl’s
deep black symphony
of sound and sight.

©1981 JJM

Among the many things that I am thankful for, I am to this day thankful for my Dad, passing onto me, his love of and for the English language.

From me, Schmoop, Corky, Kelly, and the entire Bagwine family…We wish you all, a warm, happy, and safe Thanksgiving.

Cheers!!

Thanksgiving Future

Yesterday I talked about Thanksgivings past. Today?

I thought I would channel my magical six and a half pound turkey breast, Lola Fowllana, to see what future Thanksgivings may hold for me…

Say, in twenty years from now.

Man, by that time my kid will be 34. I’ll be nearly 64, and my nutsack will have dropped down another 8 inches.

Instead of being nearly bald, I will be completely bald. I won’t have any of my real teeth, but by God, I will have a set of futuristic dentures.

I’ll still cook a bird, potatoes, dressing, and since I’ll have teeth, I may even have some maize on the cob.

I’ll just have to make sure not to overdue it, lest my brand new colostomy bag break open like a New Orleans levee.

That would certainly put a damper, not to mention an intolerable stench, on the holiday.

I don’t know if Schmoop will still be with me.

I mean, as it is now, I walk around the abode all day, half naked scratching my boys, by then I will have completely given up on life and just walk around all day fully naked scratching them.

I can see how she might grow weary of that.

Then again, she might not even notice ‘cause she’ll be too busy trying not to trip over her 40 Cs that are in a race to the floor with my aforementioned nutsack.

Eh, we’ll be together. I think Satan has made a pact with God on that. Besides, who would color her hair and get things cooked prior to the big feast?

Perhaps my son and his new wife will stop by to see dear old Dad. That would be nice.

I would give him a big hug, and give his sexy, tall, spouse with the perfect breasts an even tighter and longer lasting one...and some tongue.

Then they’ll leave and go over to his mom’s for Thanksgiving dinner. And once again, it will be just Schmoop and I.

We’ll make a toast. I’ll serve the food...

And then, maybe when we are done eating, we will, as we now do most Saturday nights, slow dance to a song or two in our tiny apartment.

Exhausted from the big day, we will go to bed, smile at each other, and exchange a soft kiss and our goodnights.

Then, as I roll over to turn out the light…


I'll see that the clock reads Six-O'-Fucking-Seven P.M.!!

Happy Thanksgiving Eve, All.

Cheers!!

Thanksgivings Past

The next three days I thought I would explore Thanksgiving from the past, the future, and the present.

Today…Thanksgivings past.

I was trying to recall my earliest memories of Thanksgiving. I had trouble. Every recollection seemed pretty much the same…wonderful.

Mom, Dad, and the nine of us kids crowded together in the house. The older boys and the oldest sister would swill beer, and smoke cigarettes, as we watched football.

Mom would cook. Dad would try to find a quiet place to hide, and the youngest sister would be writing yet another love letter to her Medical Center dreamboat, Chad Everett.

For the most part, I simply remember the fantastic smells, all of us playing football in the backyard at halftime, and most of all, the laughter.

One thing we were never short of in our tightly packed house was laughter. In fact, an odd, but ultimately humorous tradition began one Thanksgiving.

The origins of why it was started and by whom have become a hostage of time and the fading memories among the clan.

My Mom, St. Mary Anne, had a huge picture of Pope Paul VI in the living room. One year, one of the kids drew a mustache on him. It was in magic marker over the glass.

When Mom saw it, the heavens shook, she yelled, and took on the form of Gabriel while threatening to punish the culprit with smacks on the butt from her feared bolo paddle.

Fortunately, for us all, Divine Intervention in the form of a kitchen timer sounding, saved our souls, and our asses.

Every Thanksgiving thereafter, even into adulthood, somebody would draw a mustache on Pope Paul, and in all of our juvenile glory we would laugh…Mom, most of all.

I do have one other Turkey Day memory that I may have briefly mentioned a long time ago. I was 16 or 17 and dating Sherri a sweet young girl.

After Thanksgiving dinner, we went to a party that an older brother’s friend was having. It was bitterly cold for November.

After a few underage drinks, our teenage hormones kicked in and we needed to act upon our cornucopia of dirty thoughts.

Well, my friend and I headed out into the 20 degree night and started making out in front the house, near the street.

Within a matter of lustful minutes we were lying butt naked on the sidewalk, “giving thanks” to each other, and performing our version of “Pilgrims Gone Wild”.

The sex was good, well, as it good as it can be for teenagers. But, I did learn one very important thing that night.

Sex in 20 degree weather may make a chick’s nipples rock hard, but it does little to encourage the growth of a guy’s cock.

And man, my little wank needs all the encouragement it can get. For learning that fact so early in life, I am truly thankful.

A couple of things before I go…First of all, Karen? You are evil. Because of your comment to me yesterday, I now have to make dressing and gravy as well for T-Day dinner.

I hope you realize that you just added 15 minutes 2 hours to my work on Thursday.

And lastly, a Inky and Lola-esque cartoon from last Thanksgiving season. It is proof positive of my mad, artistic skillz…

Cheers!!

I Got a Pardon, But the Turkey Didn't

I was bummed a couple of weeks ago.

I thought I was going to have to work on Thanksgiving. Well, it seems now that I will not have to.

So, the ol’ Matt-Man gets to cook a Thanksgiving dinner.

Now, I used to cook an entire bird. And I can say, it was always the juiciest bird around. However…

With it being just Schmoop and I, there was always way too much left over.

So, I asked her if she would pick up a small turkey breast, and I would cook it in Samantha the Crockpot.

She picked up a “small” turkey breast. And here it is…

Yep, that juicy, delicious, mound of white meat turkey boobage weighs in at 6.56 pounds. I am going to cook it in Samantha with some chicken broth, and herbs.

Now, I of course read the recommended serving size on the label, and it says that a serving is four ounces.

That means there are 26.24 servings in that bird. Even at two servings per person, I can have 11.12 more people over for Thanksgiving.

So, if you’re interested, let me know.

On second thought, scratch that. I eat a turkey dinner once a year, and I am going to go down on that bird harder than Gertrude Stein on Alice Toklas.

What else shall we have? How about some sour cream and chive mashed new potatoes? They’re ready to be abused…

Not only do we eat turkey but once a year…Thanksgiving is also the only day that we eat vegetables…

I mean other than ketchup. How about a skillet fried mix of peas, corn, and green and white lima beans?

I’ll cook them up with a couple of strips of bacon, of course. And, now comes the difficult part, the dinner rolls.


Well, you can see that we bought some, so what’s the difficulty you ask? Heating the rolls up is the only job Schmoop has on Thanksgiving.

In our years together one of two things always transpires on Turkey Day.

She will either forget to heat them up or she’ll burn them. So, I have already attached a Post-It note to her forehead.

Maybe I should have attached it to my crotch so she would see it. Oh well.

So there you have it folks. I am off on Thursday and I am gonna be a cookin’ fool.

Oh, I guess I do have one other minor concern. I wonder if that breasty bird will fit in the crockpot. Let’s see, shall we?

Perfect!!

Cheers!!

Sunday Morning Church Disservice: Learning is "FUN"damental

It’s a sunny day here in Bagwine, Ohio. The mercury will soar to 45 degrees today.

So, my Sabbath at the drive-thru parsing out bacchanalian delights won’t be too uncomfortable.

Today marks a new week…a new beginning, and a week of thanksgiving.

I have quite a bit for which to be thankful.

During my mini-episode late this week, I have learned that you guys are really sweet. Your comments, emails, and phone calls meant a lot to me.

I appreciate it more than you can imagine. Thank you for your kindness and for teaching me more than a few things.

During this crisis, I learned through some of the emails I received from you all that evidently I am the only one that doesn’t utilize spell check or correct obvious mistakes when emailing.

You guys have impeccable email skills and etiquette.

Another thing I learned from my crisis is that if I discontinue blogging, Hope will kick my ass.

Another person was even more threatening, but seriously, why drag my mother into this?

I discovered over the last couple of days that Hoot Gibson may be somewhat human.

That fact is kinda bittersweet. I mean, I have a hard time picking on people who show even the slightest bit of humanity.

I found out that Jay’s major concern was if he was still gonna get his god damn Christmas card from me.

Hey Cynical Bastard, I got your fuckin’ Christmas card right here, come and get it. But yes, I will still be sending cards out.

I also learned one other thing. I have been trying to figure out a way to make some cash from my blog. But, that is now secondary.

In order to capitalize on the kindness you have all shown to me, my main focus is now on how to use my blog in order to have sex with each and every one of you.

You all are one, sweet, sexy lot.

Man, learning is fun…no matter what age one is, and that leads us to our Sunday Serenade...

Have fun today. I think tomorrow will mark my return to normalcy. Well, at least my version of normalcy.

Cheers!!