Sunday Morning Coming Down

Matt-Man here…

We had a post-I’m With Stupid-party here at the digs last night and let me tell you something…

There is one thing with which a copious amount of Wild Irish Rose does not go well, and that would be a copious amount of beer, Taco Bell cuisine, and meatballs.

Oy Vay!!

When I get to work at 11 this morning, the first thing Ima gunna do, is down a huge ass bottle of Vitamin Water and then chug a NOS.

That is all I have the strength for this morning, so I leave you with the archived version of last night’s I’m With Stupid broadcast…

Listen to internet radio with Im With Stupid on Blog Talk Radio

Please give it a listen just as I will after work tonight when I return home feeling somewhat human again. And, don’t forget…

Only eight more days until the world of social media and entertainment is forever changed.

Schmoop will be back here tomorrow with a post she typed last night at the height of the Bacchanalian festival that transpired here in the Bagwine digs.

It should make for an entertaining and incoherent read.

Cheers!!

Jack Link's, Projectile Bleeding, and Hate Mongering

I have four different topics to touch upon today…a quartet of musings if you will, on this Tuesday. So, I call today…

Matt-Man’s Tuesings.

First off…

Monday of last week, I wrote a sweet little post about how excited my 16 year old Ryno was by receiving some Jack Link’s Beef Jerky from me for Easter because he loves the stuff and hadn’t eaten it in about eighteen months because of his braces which had recently come off for good.

Well my friends, the fine folks at Jack Link’s read my post and last Thursday I received a very nice letter from Kristina Phernetton who works in their Consumer Relations Department.

Along with the typical form letter, there was a nice personal note from Ms. Phernetton as well as a coupon for some free Jack Link’s Beef Jerky which my son has already happily utilized.

I want to thank Jack Link’s and Ms. Phernetton for taking the time to read my blog and send a nicety along to my son. It’s proof positive that while not an everyday occurrence, good customer relations are not dead.

Because of their fantastic response, Jayman and I have named Jack Link’s Beef Jerky the Official Beef Jerky of our Blog Talk Radio show, I’m With Stupid. Here’s to you guys, and of course, ladies.

Speaking of I’m With Stupid…Jayman and I produced another award winning show this past Saturday.

We recapped the Royal Wedding, and previewed the Saturday visit of our Bagwine guests which unfortunately although I was here for it, was unable to attend due to premature unconsciousness due to an early imbibing of Wild Irish Rose.

Please give our show a listen by utilizing this handy dandy BTR machine. It’ll be worth your while. It was pretty funny:

Listen to internet radio with Im With Stupid on Blog Talk Radio

Lastly…

I heard the question asked many times Sunday night and Monday, a question similar to what was asked on and after 9/11.

Where were you when you heard that Osama Bin Laden was pronounced dead?

You know where I was? I was in the hall of our apartment building on the phone with appropriately enough, 911!!

You see, my neighbor and I’m With Stupid’s fave intern Little Jimmy Stewart had just rung my doorbell. He was standing the in hallway bleeding profusely from his right hand.

I’m talking projectile bleeding folks, utter pain, and apoplexy due to a kitchen accident, he pleaded with me to call the paramedics.

I did, and I stayed on the phone with the dispatcher as I sat Jim down on the floor and tightly held pressure to his bleeding hand with two dish towels as I raised his arm above his head.

The paramedics arrived quickly and whisked Little Jimmy to the hospital. He has a few stitches and all is now well. Once again, Matt-Man saved the day. I am such a giver.

Speaking of the killing of Bin Laden…Monday was both quite an amusing and somewhat depressing day.

On the blogosphere, Twitter, and Facebook, political ideologies once again yet not unexpectedly to me, raised their ugly and cynical heads.

Some chick who is bitter that Bin Laden was killed during Obama’s presidency defriended me on Facebook. Another kooky chick ranted on Twitter about what a farce and “mediawhore” Obama is.

Talk radio downplayed Obama’s success in the action taken.

I voted for Hillary Clinton in the 2008 primary, and although not a huge fan of President Obama, voted for him in the general election, and this past day and a half I have discovered something.

Some people question Obama’s patriotism, his “Americanism”...in fact, some doubt his origin of birth.

Some of the comments I heard from hateful, ideological clowns who loathe Obama prove at least one thing…

President Obama is far more "American" than are they.

Cheers!!

The Most Interesting Man in the World...Yeah, It's Me

I’ve mentioned the Dos Equis Most Interesting Man in the World guy before, but I noticed that Dos Equis beer is running those commercials again.

The ads say things about this alleged Most Interesting Man in the World like…

“He has won trophies for his game face alone.”

“He bowls…overhand.”

I have proven before that I am far more interesting than the Dos Equis guy, but since they are once again running those ads, I thought I should reiterate my claim by providing some examples…

I was drafted in the first round of the 2002 NFL draft by the Cincinnati Bengals…as a fan.

I wowed the crowd at the 17th hole of the 2008 British Open by shooting a hole-in-none.

When I kissed the Blarney Stone, it blushed.

Every Christmas I receive a wish list from Santa.

I spent the weekend with Lindsay Lohan and she stayed sober the entire time.

Muslim terrorists have ME on THEIR watch list.

I made Mel Gibson cry, John Boehner laugh, and left Bill O’Reilly speechless while at a cocktail party thrown by the Dalai Lama.

Telemarketers call me, just to chat.

I once fired Donald Trump.

Dick Cheney shot at me, and missed.

I’m receiving alimony from eight different women, none of whom were married to me.

I live 366 days every year.

My reflection loves ME.

And there you have but a few examples of my interesting qualities and exploits, and remember…

I always drink wine, and when I do, I drink Wild Irish Rose.

Stay fortified my friends.

Cheers!!

Bagwine: Tumult In Town Spectacular 2011!!

It’s still rainy and stormy, but after weeks of below average temps, it’s at least beginning to warm up here in Bagwine, Ohio.

And let me tell ya…This Saturday in Bagwine?

The mercury and my libido are going to be rising quickly and breaking the glass of the thermometer and the Matt-O-Meter as I spend the day, and the night, with a quartet of uber-hot babes.

Now dig it…

My friends Bubblewench and Metalmom, are trekking westward from Penn’s Woods on a acutely focused mission of partying their asses off along the way.

After a stop or two to see friends of theirs, they are picking up Sybil, and after much quasi-lesbian and black magic debauchery, that aforementioned satanic Trio of Babylon are headed to Bagwine, Ohio on Saturday.

Yes folks…I will be partying in Bagwine this Saturday with those three along with my homegrown BFF/OSP Schmoop.

What could be better? Exactly. Nothing. I mean c’mon…

I am going to be in an undisclosed Bagwine Motel room with four hot babes and a river of booze, beer, Bagwine, and immorality.

I know that Easter has passed, but holy shit, I think my resurrection is still four days away.

Oh the sights we’ll see, imagine, and manufacture. They are even going to be taken on an exclusive trip through the world famous Beer Mine by me. I spare no expense, my friends.

In fact as we all know, when people visit Bagwine, what is mine is theirs. Hey-Ooooooooo. But, I digress…

I was thinking of a name for this epic event, and initially came up with, The Bagwine Tour of Truth. And then I thought to myself…

That is so pathetically Charlie Sheen, and c’mon, this is gonna be bigger than his lame tour so I came up with the …

Bagwine: Tumult In Town Spectacular 2011, or as a more simplistic acronym:

Bag-TITS 2011!! Sponsored (unofficially, for now) by Wild Irish Rose!!

Yeah, I like that, and guess what?

Our three feminine party partners may be here at the digs in time to help Jayman and me with this Saturday’s I’m With Stupid show at Noon EDT on Blog Talk Radio!!

Holy Cow, That’s Hot!!

That’s all I have for now, however, speaking of I’m With Stupid, you can listen to our Easter Extravaganza from this past Saturday by utilizing the following handy dandy BTR machine:

Listen to internet radio with Im With Stupid on Blog Talk Radio

Have a wonderful day; I must be off in order to start eating dozens of eggs and drinking Vitamin Water.

Cheers!!

Muammar Gaddafi: Happy Brotherly Leader and Guide to the Revolution Day!!

What’s up with the title of this post, you ask? Well, let me tell you.

I know it’s President’s Day, but c’mon; Gaddafi is like a President, and…He needs my help.

In Libya, as we speak, turmoil is raging and thousands of Libyans are being beaten and gunned down for their overzealous and misplaced ingratitude toward my friend, Muammar Gaddafi, or as I call him…

M-Gad Bling.

M-Gad and I go way back.

We’ve been posse pals since 1992 when I went to Tripoli for an experimental medical treatment which cured me of my uber-rare case of syphilis which oddly enough was confined to my right palm and left big toe.

He visited me in the hospital, brought me flowers, and he and I have shared a glorious fidel/infidel relationship ever since.

We share weekly phone calls. Exchange Christmas and Ramadan presents, and spend August evenings on the Barbary coast drinking up the Mediterranean breezes.

Gaddafi and I go together like saffron and rice…cheap wine and feta…indeed, we go together like Silvio Berlusconi and 17 year old Moroccan babes at a bunga bunga party.

So, if the State Department allows it, I will fly to Tripoli tonight to be with Gaddafi in order to offer him a pre-rioter smack down pep talk, a bit of levity, and in a way...

Simply provide M-Gad with some much needed non Muslim Brotherhood.

I know he’d like that, and the best thing about my trip?

Don’t believe for a minute Gaddafi doesn’t drink alcohol. He’s a big fan of Orange Juice and Ouzo.

So, I with my Wild Irish Rose and he with his Greek Screwdrivers, will get our collective freak on and have our own bunga bunga party with his hot bodyguard babes.

My friend M-Gad has been in power for over forty years, and here’s to forty more.

The man is grossly misunderstood and deserves better from the selfish and unappreciative rioting Libyan thugs.

However, as it is President’s Day here in the States, I offer this commercial for Deng Zhou Fillmore’s Air Force Yum restaurant.

Air Force Yum is a restaurant which features menu items inspired by American Presidents. If you can, take 3 1/2 minutes out of your busy day and give it a listen…



(if the button fails to work, click where it says, twaud.io)

Have a wonderful day, and if I make it to Tripoli, I’ll send postcards.

Cheers!!

Horoscopes for 2011: Sponsored by Wild Irish Rose and Cheap Vodka

I have spent Sunday channeling the magic of the stars and the Bagwine in order to discern your 2011 Horoscope...

Please be advised, the Bagwine never lies…Trust your 2011 Horoscope.

Aries March 21- April 19
You have always said that the world revolves around you. Your claim comes to fruition when during a July excursion to the North Pole, you fall into a crevasse in the ice and plummet to your eternal, fiery grave in the center of the Earth.

Taurus April 20-May 20
Good fortune and the stars shine upon you in February when you come across a One-hundred dollar bill in a Wal*Mart parking lot. Spend it wisely. It’s the only money you’ll make this year.

Gemini May 21-June 20
Your odd lifestyle and crazy antics have always earned you public scorn and ridicule, but when you climb a fence and try to fuck an 800 pound gorilla at the public zoo, it will earn you two broken legs, a detached ear, and 40 Years to Life in the State Pen.

Cancer June 21-July 22
Your book of poetry is reviewed and hailed as one of the “most beautiful, lyrical, and erotic pieces of literature in a generation.” Unfortunately, the review comes from the North American Man Boy Love Association.

Leo July 23-August 22
People are astounded when Jesus returns to Earth and the first person he wants to see and speak with, is you. They are more astounded when he smacks you upside the head, kicks you in the groin, and calls you a, “Fucking Asshole”.

Virgo August 23- September 22
Many people get struck by lightning and survive, but when struck by lightning AND a bus at the same time as you are, you don’t.

Libra September 23-October 22
You’ve always been a proponent of the, “time heals all wounds” mentality, but when you allow that puncture wound in your foot to turn gangrenous and are forced to have your leg amputated, you begin to question your entire belief system.

Scorpio October 23-November 21
Your friends tell you that you make the best burgers they’ve ever eaten so you open your own restaurant, but perhaps you should have named it something other than, “The Mad Cow Slaughter House.”

Sagittarius November 22-December 21
It’s nice that you take the kids on expensive cruises, trips to the amusement park, and to the movies, but it might be better if they were your own kids, and you had let their parents know.

Capricorn December 22-January 19
Life will truly bring you to a low, dark point this year. So please, keep in mind…sometimes it’s easier to just give up.

Aquarius January 20-February 18
What’s impressive is that your ventriloquist act has finally taken you to Carnegie Hall…what’s less impressive is that it’s the, Sgt. Durwood Carnegie VFW Hall in Sandusky, Ohio.

Pisces February 19-March 20
Your attempts to raise awareness about the horrors of child abuse are noble, but using real children in your very real, very live reenactments are turning people off.

Cheers!!

Light One Candle

There are about 8 or so posts that I repeat during a specific time of year; this one is perhaps the most bittersweet, yet heart-warming of those. It's about my late friend, Moseley, aka Bagwine Kringle, who died some three years ago...

Please join me, and remember him with me. Thank You...

Words cannot express the sorrow that I feel at this moment. No amount of tears can purge my soul of the loss. Bagwine Kringle gave so much to so many and his passing will be felt the world around.

It seems BK and a couple of his “elves” Tina and Dex, were busy wrapping presents for some of the less fortunate local kids.

While Tina and Dex selfishly ran next door to grab a sandwich, Kringle the workaholic that he is, ate what he had on hand and continued the Christmas assemblage.

He was hurriedly gulping down some Salmon Fancy Feast cat food and evidently began to choke on a small bone, because when Tina and Dex returned, he was lying on the floor gasping for air.

Dex called the paramedics while Tina tried to ply Kringle with some Wild Irish Rose to relax his throat muscles.

She quickly found out that that was not the best idea.

He spewed out a mixture of WIR and bile that resembled a poorly made marinara sauce with a stench reminiscent of bandicoot urine.

Although nearing death, he was with his two best friends.

BK was with his dear friend Tina, whose street name is Bowling Ball. Tina is a 48 year old prostitute with large breasts, two prosthetic legs, and a glass eye.

Her seductive wiles are legendary. Oh sure, some women can spread their legs really wide, but Tina can take hers completely off.

She is also very accommodating. If a client is feeling extremely kinky, she will pop out her glass eye, and let him give her, shall we say...a facial.

Tina is one who gives and gives, and that is why she and Bagwine Kringle were pals.

And then, there's good ol’ Dex Lexler, or Sarge, as BK called him. He was never in the military, but BK always kidded him that he looked like the dog from Beetle Bailey.

I know, the dog’s name was actually Otto, but BK was close. Those two shared so many of the same traits…compassion, generosity, and cirrhosis of the liver.

They were of one mind inside of two bodies and now sadly, they are half the men they use to be…or something like that.

I guess when the paramedics arrived, BK was nearly expired. His lungs raled bilaterally, desperately gasping for air, but it was not to be.

Tina and Sarge looked down upon BK as they sobbed unrelentingly.

And then, as the medics placed him on the cart, Bagwine Kringle looked at his friends with that familiar twinkle in his good eye, and with his final breath said...

“Don’t cry for me Sarge and Tina.”

I miss you Bagwine Kringle, here's a toast to you....

Cheers!!

Four Loko Banned!! Pussies...

Many states are on the banning train and the choo-choo that is the United States Food and Drug Administration which is calling for the demise of Four Loko.

You know what I say…Fuck that.

Four Loko is a hyper-caffeinated drink that contains 12% alcohol and some morons out in Washington were hospitalized after drinking it. (Thanks Curious Chris)

You know what I say to that…So be it.

They were obviously assholes and had a shit load of other troubles and probably were ingesting other things than Four Loko when they were medically interred.

The government is always trying to legislate against human stupidity and I have something to say about that.

STOP IT!!

People are and always will be stupid. Quit putting people who cater to the stupidity of others, on trial.

This is allegedly a free market society, so let the stupid people drink, smoke, and build track marks up their arms and allow them to board the choo choo of their own demise to the destination called, Death.

In fact, let me help, and at the same time, give the big middle finger to the USFDA…

I have always partaken of something like Four Loko only better. What is it you ask?

Take a look bitches:


Damn right, Rose and NOS….Plenty of caffeine and 18% alcohol to boot. If Four Loko makes you kill yourself, you should die, because well…

You’re a pussy. And now…

A promo for I’m With Stupid.

Jay and I will be doing our Thanksgiving Extravaganza tonight at 11 PM EST on I’m With Stupid on Blog Talk Radio.

We have plenty of laughs on the menu, a musical tribute to T-Day, our football spotlight, an interview with Connie Lingus of PeTA and dig this…

The Jayman will be broadcasting on location. Yeah, it’s our first remote show and let me tell ya, the satellite truck is asscited to be getting out of the garage.

So, please, if you have time, listen in and call in and have some Thanksgiving fun with Jay and me by clicking HERE.

Until tonight when I see you on the radio, as always…

Cheers!!

Matt-Man: Yeah, I Like That...

Last week, I posted a partial list of things I hate. Today?

I am writing about things that I like, things that bring me joy.

My dad, in his book Credo, wrote a poem about things that were pleasing to him. It was titled, Personal Choices and one of the verses went like this…

I like

the serenity of old battlefields
short sermons,
and chores well done.

©1981 Jack Mahoney

I decided to list some of the things that I like, using the same poetic form that Dad used in that very poem…

I like,

Fernleaf Buckthorns, brash, red geraniums,
white Dogwoods anchored in black mulch,
and the delicate, pink blooms on Scottish Heather.

I like,

the pre-dawn aria of the mourning dove,
the clickity-clack of an archaic timepiece,
and the seductive sadness in the voice of Chrissie Hynde.

I like,

footlong chili dogs, cheeseburgers rare,
lima beans and scalloped corn,
and BLTs heavy on the bacon.

I like,

the warmth and closeness of my son’s embrace,
a cool breeze in August, the January thaw,
and goosebumps germinated by the heat and moisture of a loved one’s kiss.

I like,

the smell of a backyard cookout,
the scent of fresh cut Christmas trees,
and the aroma of basil on pizza fresh from the oven.

I like,

poems by Tennyson, Donne, and Dylan Thomas,
the honest comedy of Chris Rock,
and drinking Wild Irish Rose from a knowing, old, beer glass.

©2010 Matt-Man

Yeah, I like that, and I hope you liked it too.

Happy Hump Day, all.

Cheers!!

My Own Private Jesus

Wow. I had a rough last four or five hours at work Tuesday night. I was a little on edge when I got home.

To ease my personal tension and hate for the human race, I opened a beer.

Just as I was cracking open my second beer, there was a knock at my door. It was my bud, Jeebus.

I let him in, and another scintillating conversation between he and I ensued.

Me: Hey Jeebus…I haven’t seen you since Lent. What’s up?

Jeebus: I was watching and listening to you at the Beer Mine tonight. You were muttering, “God Damn It” quite a bit. That’s a no-no, Matt-Man. Tsk, tsk.

Me: But I-

Jeebus: I know you were busy, and the people who came through were idiots, but because some moronic chick takes five minutes to decide between a Snicker’s Bar and a Kit Kat, is no reason to take my daddy’s name in vain under your breath.

Me: I agree, but I apologized under my breath as well.

Jeebus: True, but when the customer after her started counting out five dollars in dimes for a pack of smokes, you said to yourself, and I quote:

“Un-fucking-believable!! God Damn It!! Jeebus Take Me NOW!!”

Matt, Matt, Matt….you really need to watch your language, and another thing…

Me: Oy…What? What else did I do wrong?

Jeebus: The chick with the great rack who gets the Marlboro Smooths? Could you be a little less obvious when you’re staring down her top? She’s only nineteen, for Chrissakes.

Me: But man, she’s HOT.

Jeebus: Yeah, I know. When Dad created her in the womb of her mom, I remember him saying, “This chick is going to grow up to be one sexy bitch.”

Me: Your Dad does good work.

Jeebus: Yes he does. And the red head chick you drool over? Ha. She’s really a guy.

Me: What the fuck? Really?

Jeebus: Dad and I created her just to fuck with you. We were hoping you’d get naked with her…er him…at some point, and then we'd laugh our asses off when we saw you freak out. But, I couldn’t let you go through with it.

Me: Ha…That’s awful, but pretty damn funny….and thanks.

Jeebus: One last thing…That blonde who keeps flirting with you? Don’t do it. She’s been pre-ordained to give birth to seven kids. She could get pregnant with just a kiss. That is one fertile bitch. Stay far, far, away.

Me: Thanks for the tip, J-Man.

Jeebus: Anytime, my friend. Now, let’s have a blast of Rose before I go.

Me: Here ya go, my messianic Mad-Man.

Jeebus: God, this shit is still awful. Why do you drink this crap?

Me: ‘Cause Wild Irish Rose is just like me. It’s goes down rough at times…only a handful of people think it’s any good, but in the end, it can make a person laugh and feel better for awhile.

Jeebus: Yeah…it does one other thing that you do, as well. It can give you a hangover.

Me: Ha…well, yeah…there’s that too. Here’s to ya.

Jeebus: Cheers my friend.

Me: Right back atcha, my friend.

And to all of you on this most fine Hump Day…

Cheers!!

Jessica Alba Naked: Rise of the Flesh Toned Surfboard

From now until Saturday, I will be putting up stories from the Bagwine vault. I felt this a perfect way to end year number four of Bagwine Ruminations and begin year number five which amazingly begins on Sunday May 23rd. Wow.

Here's one from June 18, 2007...

The new Fantastic 4 movie really cleaned up at the Box Office this weekend. I haven’t seen it yet but I do really love one of the characters, The Invisible Woman.

Yes I am a shallow man, but my affection for the character is purely due to masturbation purposes creative respect. I think Jessica Alba through her theatrical genius, has captured the essence of this particular superhero.

I must admit however, that I spend hours on end thinking about the fun I could have with the Invisible Woman.

I even had a dream about her the other night.

She came over and we started drinking some Wild Irish Rose.

We sat on the couch and she began to rub her form fitting superhero suit up against me. We put down our drinks and she straddled me as I sat on the couch.

She put her lips to mine and then proceeded to tickle my uvula with her super tongue. She kissed my neck, I opened my eyes, and there on the TV was a one-eyed toucan singing a reggae version of “I’m Turning Japanese.”

She stood up, took my hand and said, “Let’s go to bed.”

Once in bed, we laid down next to each other completely nekkid. After a few pecks and licks, she whispered in my ear, “Get kinky Matt-Man; do me while I’m invisible.”

I said, “Okay, but how will I find everything?” Jessica…er…The Invisble Woman said, “You’ll do fine, after all, you’re Matt-Man, Bitch!!”

When she said that, I didn’t know what turned me on more, that I was in bed with a gorgeous superhero, or the fact that she obviously reads my blog!!

Anyway, she went all invisible on me and I began the search and seizure mission. It did not start out well. I spent the first ten seconds French kissing her left eye.

I then moved on to kiss and caress her super breasts which oddly had no nipples. It was then I realized that I was sucking on her kneecaps.

I took a minute to sit up and analyze the shape and position of how her body was sunk into the bed. I studied and then hopped where I thought I would be in position for some good lovin’.

When I landed she said, “Oooooo good job Matt-Man.”

Passionately yet gently, I began to make love to her, or as I romantically refer to it, “began to plant the spud in the mud”.

Either the Enzyte I had been taking was adding the size it guaranteed or this was the tightest hoo-ha I had ever come across.

I was nearing the moment of climax when I moaned a super moan, and she laughed a super laugh.

Lying beneath me laughing…she became visible.

I looked down and discovered the source of her amusement. I had just spent the last two minutes fucking the hell out of her belly button. The mood had been shattered.

But then, she said to me…

“It’s okay Matt-Man. I’ll stop by tomorrow and go see the movie with you. You can freak everyone out at the theatre by making out with me while I’m invisible. Just be ready to be called Pee-Wee Matt-Man. Ciao baby!!”

I hope this entry will help you to think of me when you view this fine movie which I have never seen.

Cheers!!

Have Any Irish In Ya Honey? Would Ya Like Some?

Centuries ago, Irish raiders kidnapped a young fellow who resided in Roman Britain.

He escaped backed to Britain six years later and went on to become a bishop. This man? St. Patrick.

In order to exact his revenge, Patrick returned to Ireland and converted the drunken, filthy pagans into drunken, filthy Christians and most became Catholic.

Now sure, Patrick could have retaliated by killing his kidnappers, but he knew that converting people to Catholicism was a much more painful form of punishment.

The thing I find most fascinating about St. Patrick is that he was born in Roman occupied Britain.

That means there’s a possibility that he was Roman, which means he could have been Italian. Can you believe that an entire country of shit-faced, pugilistic Micks was converted by a Dago and some kind of fight didn’t break out?

Fortunately, there was no violence, and Ireland has, of course, been violence free ever since.

That indeed is a story worth celebrating every year…And, being the man of Irish descent that I am, that is exactly what I will be doing tomorrow here at the O’Bagwine digs, but...

I’ll be all by my little o'lonesome.

So, if you guys wanna join me please do. I’ll be posting updates here on my blog, updates on my Twitter Account as well as on my Facebook Page.

I may even have my webcam up and running for the festivities, so if you get the chance, please join me in my St. Paddy’s Day Drunken O’ Communiqués!!

In fact, as you can see from the picture I am doing a little St Patrick’s Day Eve priming of my o’liver. Damn right, O’Bitches; your eyes are not deceiving you…

What you see me imbibing is not my typical Wild Irish Rose “Red.” It’s, Wild Irish Rose “Wild Green Apple.”

I only consume the green during St. Patrick’s Day…for two reasons actually.

One…because drinking it only during the St. Patrick’s Day celebration gives it a special feel, and number two?

This shit taste like, well…o’shit. They should call it, “Wild Green Apple That Initially Tastes Like Apples But The Immediate Aftertaste Has A Flavor Of Mothballs and Crack Whore Pussy.”

Ha…Yesterday, my post discussed the merits of John Calvin and Thomas Jefferson and today? I mention Crack Whore Pussy. Unfuckingbelieveable. Any O’Hoo…

I hope you can spend part of your day tomorrow sharing my Gaelic Gala with me. And, in order to get you in the mood I offer this video that I recorded for St. Patty’s Day last year.

It’s me singing a few verses of Lily the Pink. O’capella of course. Enjoy.

Hope I see you ‘round tomorrow for a few…

Erin Go Braugh and Slainte!!

Sunday Morning Church Disservice: It's Party Time!!

It’s going to be a decent Sabbath in Bagwine, Ohio for most of the day. Our temp may even hit 50 degrees. Praise Jeebus!!

That will make my 11-7 shift at the Beer Mine today most pleasurable, provided I don’t encounter any retards.

Anyhooo…

I was kinda tired when I got home Saturday night, so guess what? I didn’t really strain my brain to write anything.

I thought for today I’d just wish Jay a Happy Birthday again, since today is the actual day of his birth that took place lo those 42 long years ago.

I thought perhaps Jay and I could celebrate by tipping some Wild Irish Rose…


And then I could have my personal archivist, Shannon, stop by in her Birthday suit and bring a cake along.

As you can see…Shannon is cute but none too bright. She got the age on Jay’s cake fucking backwards. Oh well, personal archivists are so damn hard to find. I’ll let it slide.

Lastly, because its Jay’s birthday, my BFF/OSP Schmoop, said that the Jay-Man is allowed to blow out her candle…

Lucky Bastard…Happy Birthday to Jay.

Amen, and Amen.

If any of you need beer and smokes today, come by and see me at the Beer Mine.

Cheers!!

Horoscopes for March 2010

I opened a fifth of Wild Irish Rose, drank it and then stared into the abyss of the empty bottle so I could once again conjure up the power of the Bagwine and impart to you what the stars won't tell you.

Your Bagwine Whore-O-Scope for March 2010


Aries March 21-April 19

It’s understandable that you don’t want to acknowledge the albatross around your neck, but could you at least give it a bath and put a muzzle on it? It smells like death and won’t shut the fuck up.

Taurus April 20-May 20

In spite of what you think, switching from smoking cigarettes and drinking booze to shooting heroin will NOT “improve your health and add years to your life.”

Gemini May 21-June 20

You finally realize your dream of being chosen to be the subject of a reality TV show, however, the show, Dinner, a Movie, and Anal Sex with Bob Barker wasn’t really what you had in mind.

Cancer June 21-July 22

Two weeks into your successful public campaign railing against preservatives and processed foods, Chef Boyardee, Mrs. Paul, and Oscar Mayer show up at your house and bludgeon you to death with a can of Beefaroni, a box of fish sticks, and a package of “All Beef” hot dogs.

Leo July 23-August 22

Incorporating food into your romantic bedroom activities can add spice and thrill to your love life, but covering your entire body with cottage cheese prior to sex is just downright creepy.

Virgo August 23-September 22

No matter what people say or how much they snicker…You find wearing a basket full of lima beans on your head while sporting a tunic made of potato peels to be a very smart look.

Libra September 23-October 22

While lying in a hospital bed with two broken legs and a fractured back you come to the realization that the latest recall by Toyota was more than a corporate attempt to “waste your time” and “mess with your mind.”

Scorpio October 23-November 21

The elation you feel upon hearing that a popular local eatery has named their newest dish in honor of you soon turns to anger when you discover that new dish is called, “Jamaican-What a Fucking Jerk-Chicken.”

Sagittarius November 22-December 21

Winning an 86 Million dollar lottery jackpot is great news, except when it’s won by that piece of shit next door neighbor of yours who’s been banging your spouse.

Capricorn December 22-January 19

You’re never one to wear your seatbelt which makes it all the more amazing that after you drive off the road and get ejected from your car, you survive. Well, until the angry pack of groundhogs that you awakened, eats you where you lay.

Aquarius January 20-February 18

The splitting headache you awake with on March 18th has less to do with the five gallons of Guinness that you drank at the St. Paddy’s Day blowout the night before, and more to do with the fact that for some unknown reason, you woke up with the business end of a rusty crowbar buried in your skull.

Pisces February 19-March 20

Finally losing your virginity after all these long years is a big deal to you and those who know you, but you losing it to a 14 year old is a much bigger deal to the judicial system.

Enjoy your March and your Monday, folks...

I'm going into work early today and I'll be gone most of the day, so you kids behave yourselves in my absence.

Cheers!!

Here's (to) Johnny!!

WARNING: Another sappy post ahead!!

On Wednesday I talked about the cute points about my son. Today?

In addition to it being Johnny Cash’s birthday, let me tell ya something…

Yesterday the uber-adorable Schmoop called in sick. The why is not important, but I understand the why.

Schmoop has been my BFF/OSP for over nine years now. Will we ever get married? I doubt it. Will we ever have kids together? Definitely not…and to attach an exclamation point, we both hope not!!

However…

She has been my best friend and closest companion for going on ten years, but lately…

We haven’t been in sync. She has her schedule, and I have mine. The schedules just don’t mesh. We have taken each other for granted.

I take out the garbage and cook; she keeps the house clean, and in between, we say “hi” and pet Corky at the same time for a couple of minutes.

The Bagwine digs had become a Stepford suburb and the denizens consisted of a couple of automatons mechanically bouncing into each other once in awhile to say “hi”.

Yesterday that changed…Schmoop called in sick.

Schmoop started to feel better as the day went on. In fact, she had a couple of beers…And then? We had sex!! Oh Baby!!

Now let me tell ya, the sex was, as it always is, fantastic, however…

Outside of those three sixty minutes of pure, naked bliss, the best part was that we rediscovered one and other.

We listened to music on You Tube, I made BBQ chicken and salad for her…We sat on the couch and made fun of people.

We had a blast doing nothing…together.

I have often told her that she is the Anne Meara to my Jerry Stiller, but because it’s his birthday…

I will tell Schmoop that she is the June Carter to my Johnny Cash…

Wear some black today for Johnny, I sure as hell am. And on top of that, after I take Schmoop to work and Ryno to school, I’m gonna toss back some Wild Irish Rose and listen to the Man in Black.

Nothing goes better together than Cash and Bagwine…

Cheers!!

1,400 Posts Later, The Bagwine Is Still Flowing

Today marks my 1,400th installment on Bagwine Ruminations. I thought it was a good time to revisit something that I had done long ago but do little of now.

It is a theme that I call, Ask the Bag Man, where “people” ask me questions about Wild Irish Rose.

The questions and answers that appear below were first published in 2006 when Bagwine Ruminations was but a couple of months old and had maybe six readers a day.

After nearly four years and 1,400 posts, I thought I should revisit the impetus and attitude for this website…that being my affection and knowledge about Bagwine in general and Wild Irish Rose in particular.

Enjoy…

Dear Matt-Man:

My name is Horton and I am seven years old. My dad was drunk on Wild Irish Rose and accidentally put our cat into the dryer while doing laundry…little Pussy-Boots died.

He said that if I tell Mommy that I did it, Santa Claus will bring me everything I want this Christmas. Should I lie for my dad and wait for Santa to reward me, or should I tell the truth?

A Frustrated First Grader in Beavercreek

Dear Frustrated:

Your father was probably not drunk. I am sure that he was simply trying to find the reality that only Rose can offer. You, on the other hand need some reality from the Matt-Man. First of all, Horton is a stupid name, as is Pussy-Boots, so I am glad your cat is dead.

Secondly, there is no Santa Claus. Your mom and dad are the ones who buy the Christmas presents for you in order to keep your spoiled, selfish ass quiet. That being said, lie for your dad and take the payola.

Oh, one other slice of reality for you, I’m sleeping with your mommy. Now, you’ve learned your lesson: “Reality goes better with Rose”.


Dear Matt-Man:

I’ve heard good things about Wild Irish Rose and would like to try it. Is there a “lite” or “low-calorie” version of Rose that we women who are watching our figures could purchase?

Craving a Lo-Cal Buzz

Dear Craving:

At this time there is no low calorie Rose available, and I am not sure that there should be one. I think to alter the natural goodness of this well balanced bouquet would be a travesty. Don’t fret, however. If you are new to Rose or drink enough of it, you won’t be able to keep anything down anyway.


Dear Matt-Man,

I had to buy my Wild Irish Rose at the Kroger grocery store last week. The chick at the checkout counter asked if I wanted paper or plastic. I froze and didn’t know what to say. How should I have responded?

Bagged in Springfield

Dear Bagged,

This is a very good question as most Wild Irish Rose is not purchased in grocery stores, unless it’s Bert and Ethel’s Corner Market next to the abandoned Jarts factory.

The answer is simple; would you really want to put something as tasty, true, and pure into something as artificial as a plastic bag? Of course not, be genuine…use paper.


Dear Matt-Man,

I am a novice Wild Irish Rose drinker. I am not certain which flavor of Rose goes with what dishes. Any suggestions?

Culinary Chaos in Dayton

Dear Chaos,

The great thing about WIR is that it is such a versatile vino. It goes with anything and everything. I really like the Red when I am serving hot dogs, frozen pizza, or Loosemeat Sandwiches. The White goes well with chicken nuggets, and really shines when complementing fried SPAM.

If you’re having one of your ladies over, I suggest a combination of oysters and the Wild Fruit with Ginseng. The oysters get her motor running and the Ginseng will help you keep it running. NOTE: Unless you like having colorful stool, there is no good reason to drink the Grape.


Dear Matt-Man:

I was trying to find reality through a bottle of Rose the other day and accidentally killed our cat by putting him in the dryer. I offered a bribe to my seven year old son to take the heat for me.

I told him Santa would be very generous this year. Was this wrong? Also, my wife came home the other night and she smelled like Wild Irish Rose. She doesn’t drink the stuff. Do you think she’s cheating on me?

Bewildered in Beavercreek

Dear Bewildered:

Of course you did the right thing. Kids, like pets, are there for adults to place blame upon, and yes, unlike with animals, a nice incentive seals the deal. As for whether your wife is cheating on you, I doubt it.

Perhaps she hides her love for WIR because she is a woman. One thing for certain, never pose this question to your lovely young son. It could cause emotional scars.

Here's to 1,400 posts and here's to 1,400 more. Have a great Hump Day all, and thanks for reading and partaking of the Bagwine.

Cheers!!

Numbers Can Add Up To Introspection

Well folks…

I discovered that yesterday’s discussion about my e-mails to a trio of FOX News celebrities marked my 1,300th post on Bagwine Ruminations. Holy Cow.

1,300 posts over nearly three and a half years. And what if anything, have we learned about the man known as Matt, Matty, Mateo, That Bagwine Drinking Dickhead in Ohio…The Matt-Man?

Let’s re-cap, shall we?

I like to drink Wild Irish Rose, Milwaukee’s Best Light, and once in awhile, King Cobra Malt Liquor, better known as, Snake in a Bottle. Yum.

We know through photographic evidence that I have yet to achieve my life’s dream of having a sex change and becoming a Lesbian Porn Star. That fact sticks in my crawl, and it sticks in my crawl because I still have no vagina in which to put it.

Politically, I am a blend of Liberalism and Libertarianism…In fact, in a post some time back, I coined the phrase, Liberaltarian. I am so damn cool that way.

We know that my life would be far less without my son, Schmoop, her brother Dave, my family, and all of you lovable, sometimes brilliant, and usually laugh out loud funny degenerates.

I have a pretty damn good command of the English language, and yet some of my favorite words remain fuck, fucktard, pussy, and asshole.

I enjoy a heated debate, trading insulting barbs, and making fun of ideas and people with which and whom I disagree. Biting my tongue and keeping my mouth shut has never been in my DNA. And yet, at times, I can be quite diplomatic. Odd.

I guess at times, I am riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside of a brown paper bag. I can dig that.

When I fantasize about sex…it involves a hot chick such as this…

On the rare occasion that I have real sex, it involves a hot chick like this…

Mmmmmmmmm. It’s good to know that.

If you have read me for any length of time you know that while I haven’t had the time of late, I enjoy making videos such as this classic I did to John R. Butler’s, “Old Time God”.

Ha. Classic.

Anyhoo…

I really have no idea why I am writing this or where if anywhere, I am going with it. I guess we are a people who are taken with big, round numbers such as 1,300.

Numbers like that act as milestones, and oft times create a time of reflection and introspection.

I guess I saw that number and started to think about things. I have much optimism that something will come of the things I write, but at the same time, I spend my days worrying about things in the here and now.

I guess I was due for a little catharsis, and I thank you for listening.

So as not to end this post on a melancholy note, I will attempt to lighten things up by asking you to do something…

This post was primarily a self-absorbed post about what we have learned about me through the existence of Bagwine Ruminations; what is it that you don’t know?

Bring it on Bitches…Ask me anything you want. I’ll answer it right here, right now. I am certain that YOU guys can come up with some pretty damn funny questions.

Cheers!!

Your Last Half of August 2008 Bagwine Whore-O-Scope

Today marks the beginning of a new monthly installment on Bagwine Ruminations...Your Monthly Bagwine Whore-O-Scope ™.

I will once a month, decode the backwash of a bottle of various potables to render your monthly fortune; be it good or bad.

The potable that I read for you, depends on your sign, because each sign has a ruling Bagwine or one of its ugly cousins, such as a cheap Malt Liquor.

On this initial installment, you will not only get your Whore-O-Scope for the last half of August, you will also see what your ruling beverage is. Enjoy!!


Aries
March 21 -April 19

Your ruling drink is Thunderbird. A tongue discoloring wine with 17.5% alcohol, you get the New Year of the Zodiac, and life itself, kicked off with a battering and a hurl.

The soothing inner voices of your conscience become increasingly annoying when they start quoting lines from the movie, Titanic, in the voice of Stephen Hawking...I-i-i-i am-mmm Kin-in-in-ing of da Wor-or-orld-orld.



Taurus
April 20 -May 20

Your ruling drink is JOOSE. Full of Taurine, Caffeine, and 9.9% alcohol. You are a bull full of drunken energy. Much like JOOSE itself, you have an unpleasant smell.

Your family has a major problem that you refuse to deal with. The days of ignoring this 800 pound Gorilla in the room come to an end when the Gorilla kills you, rapes your spouse, and eats your kids.



Gemini
May 21 -June 20

Your ruling drink is Night Train Express. A “special” ingredient combined with 17.5% alcohol makes you a twin blend of frivolity and memory loss.

Although you will lose your car keys, you will find them in the FIRST place that you look, which is unfortunate because it will lead to a charge of drunk driving.



Cancer
June 21 -July 22

Your ruling drink is Sterno. While the alcohol content effect is unknown, drinking “Canned Heat” can often lead to death, much like your sign’s namesake.

You will win a lottery prize of 87.5 Million dollars, unfortunately the pay out will be in the form of pennies, nickels, and dimes.



Leo
July 23 -August 22

Your ruling drink is Hurricane High Gravity produced by Anheuser-Busch. At 8.1% alcohol, you can still remain coherent enough to lead the pride, while still roaring proudly…and obnoxiously.

After trying 16 brand new light bulbs in the living room lamp without success, you will finally realize that the problem lies within the lamp itself.



Virgo
August 23-September 22

Your ruling drink is Boone’s Farm. With types at 7.5% alcohol or less, you are a pussy, but hardly virginal. On the upside, the marginal alcohol content assures that you won’t sleep with the incredibly ugly people that other signs will.

Your intentions were good, but giving a Snickers Bar to the homeless guy with a peanut allergy will result in scandal and massive legal fees.



Libra
September 23 -October 22

Your ruling drink is Mogen-David (Mad Dog) 20/20. With flavors averaging 13%, you are justifiably at the middle of the scale. Combining MD 20/20 with your sense of compassion, leads you to have sex with anyone who is even slightly unhappy.

Lather, rinse, repeat, and meticulously blow dry…for you will surely have sex with John Edwards.




Scorpio
October 23 -November 21

Your ruling drink is Cisco. Distributed by the same folks as Wild Irish Rose, and with identical 18% alcohol, you give and receive painful verbal stings. You and the Aquarian (see below) are not a good social mix.

Calling a spade a spade is fine, but you shouldn’t have done it to Al Sharpton.




Sagittarius
November 22 -December 21

Your ruling drink is Steel Reserve 211. A malt liquor with 8.1% alcohol, this medieval beverage helps your to hone your skills as the archer. Your thoughts always hit the bull’s-eye when drinking this…at least in your mind.

Upon reaching ultimate self-awareness, you realize that people around you are correct; you are indeed, a complete asshole.




Capricorn
December 22 -January 19

Your ruling drink is well…anything. You are after all, some type of goat. Rude, stubborn, and personally boorish, you’ll drink anything put in front of you, provided you don’t have to pay for it.

You will discover that calling the waitress at Denny’s, “a stupid bitch” does in fact lead to food poisoning.




Aquarius
January 20 -February 18

Your ruling drink is Wild Irish Rose. People admire your sarcasm and love your introspection. And at 18% alcohol, you are more than happy to love them back (except Scorpios)…provided you don’t pass out first.

You have mixed emotions when you find out that the growth on your chest is not cancerous, but rather, a benign growth resembling the face and head of Carrot-Top.



Pisces
February 19 -March 20

Your ruling drink is King Cobra Malt Liquor. This “Snake in a Bottle” is only 6% alcohol, but what you lack in punch you make up for in volume, because you drink like a fish.

Dick Cheney shows up at your house wearing a black evening gown and hi-heels. Your guilt overwhelms you when you find yourself highly aroused.



I hope that my Bagstrological findings help you out through the last half of this month.

Have a great day, and as always...

Cheers!!