It’s time to gather around the table (or go through drive-up windows) and show your gratitude to the ones who’ve made it possible to clog our arteries so effectively. It’s Cow Appreciation Day. It’s that day we celebrate our favorite cows with names like Moogan Freeman, Moohamed, Winnie the Moo and others like Angus, Big Mac and Meatloaf (not even trying to hide what’s coming there) by taking a big bite out of them on a bun.

Without cows, what would steak houses be? Fish restaurants that’s what (yuck). There would be no reason to go through the ice cream section at the supermarket because it’s all made from milk. No milk, no milkshakes (see you just learned something). Before the invention of powdered creamer, people used real cream in their coffee (again cream is milk, as in cream and sugar. Now you’re gettin’ it). Skim milk doesn’t count though, I’d hate to see the cow that gave that.

And what about the side dishes that depend upon that dead cow on your plate? Let’s not forget about them. The hamburger associates, or as they’re more popularly known: french fries (make ’em crinkle cut) and onion rings. Baked potatoes, onions and carrots are all of those things that depend upon burgers, steaks and pot roast to even be noticed. Think of them, oh the humanity! No make that, oh the veggies! So show your thanks to the steers and heifers on this Cow Appreciation Day by biting into a dead one covered with mustard because you can’t have a cookout without them. But if you really want to show your love, head on down to a Chick-fil-A and eat some dead chicken with Polynesian sauce. I hear they’re giving away free food today.

God Bless America and bon appetit. 🇺🇸

Of all of mankinds greatest inventions, from movable type, to penicillin, the greatest and most endurable, the one of which we should be the most proud is the toupee. The hair piece, the rug, that muskrat that sits on the top of the head of your average human flashlight that dates all the way back to 3100 B.C. Even back when men had to keep quiet in order not to scare off dinner, they were still concerned about male pattern baldness.

The hair rug comes in many styles, those that make you look like you need a haircut (you wish), those that make you look like you just got a haircut (again you wish) and those that even make your hair look like it’s beginning to grow out (not even if you had a genie). There are also toupees that match the color of the little amount of hair you have left. Made of space age fibers, it can repel anything (wind, rain, snow and especially women). More than any neon sign, nothing says look at me like a chrome dome covered with road kill. It’s supposed to look natural, but couldn’t look phonier if it came with a chin strap. So save your money, toss them aside, stop making Sy Sperling rich. Baldness isn’t cool (exception Bruce Willis and Stone Cold Steve Austin). If it were, you wouldn’t be covering your head with the neighbors’ cat. Remember, there’s something out there that doesn’t care what you look like and accepts you for you are. Free flowing alcohol.

It’s time! It’s Time! To raise your cholesterol levels America because it’s National Fried Chicken Day. The day, just like any other, when you can walk into any Popeye’s or KFC and the employees will gladly give you the bird (when you’re not looking). The day, just like any other, where PETA throws a fit because you’re not eating your lawn grass and bee spit, but celebrating fried chicken day by eating what else…fried chicken. Yum yum. 😋

Fried Chicken originally comes from the Greek, Frieonus Chickonius, meaning to cook that fucking ugly bird and to the credit of mankind, we’ve been doing it ever since. It’s just one more thing given to us by the Sons of Aryas. It’s even so good that a congressman ate from a bucket of KFC during a hearing. Nothing says lovin’ like a fat bald gassbag with grease on his jowls.

So eat up everyone. A chicken that’s no longer giving eggs is giving its all so you can belch happily. One more thing, make sure when you order fries with it, they’re crinkly cut. I know somebody who hates those, so it’s more fries for you. (Burp)

Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie and Chevrolet. Okay… I’m dating myself on that. That was the jingle from a commercial when I was a boy…to sell Chevrolet’s right (even someone Alyssa Milano stupid could have figured that one out). So what does this have to do with Independence Day? In a word…

Nothing.

I just had that jingle in my head and thought I’d put it out there. You could make an argument that it shows the link between patriotism and commercialism, but not here. Do that on your own blog. Today, we celebrate all of the things that make America great. No, I’m not talking about politics. Trump supporters, don’t get excited. Detractors, don’t get your asses up on your shoulders. I’m talking about the things that unite us. That’s right… cookouts and getting drunk off your ass on beer! Two things America does better than anybody. Going to a baseball game? That’s only so you can buy stadium beer. You gotta get drunk to sit through a five hour game where guys publicly scratch themselves. Going to a parade? Yeah, they are pretty cool, but we’re all doing it for the same reason. We want to kill time until the cookout starts and we can drink beer. Then, after eating burgers, hot dogs, ribs and everything else that has us near bursting (I don’t care if women are here, I’ve got to open my pants), we all watch the fireworks while occasionally excusing ourselves to use the bathroom and get more beer. After that, we go to the bathroom again and get more beer. (Vicious cycle, but no one’s trying to break it) So stay safe, drive safe and let’s stay drunk out there. You’ve got a four day weekend to do it, so drink up and enjoy. God Bless America and Coors. And Budweiser. And Sam Adams. And all the rest I’m too drunk to remember. 🇺🇸

This is one of the hardest posts I’ve ever had to write because it only reminds me that you are gone. It only reminds me of how you were the one I was closest to. It only reminds me of how much I miss you.

I think about the times we would talk. I think about the times we fought (more than I would have liked). I think about how you taught me how to cook and how I looked forward to doing it with you each day. I think about all of the Christmases spent and all the birthdays. I think of all of the Mother’s Days and how I still feel like they were only a celebration of my Mama. But this July 3rd is your birthday and the second one I have spent without you. You remain such a great force in my life and your absence leaves me with an empty and terrible void. I love you Mama and miss you deeply, but you are now in a better place. I will see you again someday.

Sandra L Armstrong

(July 3, 1947 – Nov 14, 2017)

Gone but never forgotten.💖

This my second blog post of the day. I said something that needed to be said, but now I’m saying something just because I want to.

Today is World UFO day, the day Star Trek geeks and Star Wars nerds (is there any difference between the two?) climb out of their basement and into the shower (maybe) before venturing into the world (or online) to learn if anyone of them, who can’t get a date, has found out if E.T. is truly hiding in the shed.

Let me be clear…I’m a believer. It takes someone Alyssa Milano stupid to believe that in a universe so vast that we are the only ones alive in it. So yes, I believe there is life out there, but when you have people like Alyssa Milano or Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez along with a massive throng of idiots walking around under the mistaken assumption that they are smart, then maybe that explains why they’ve never made contact. Would you want to talk to us? Perhaps, they’re also in search of intelligent life. They took a look at planet Earth and decided there was nothing to see here. Or maybe, just maybe, we’re their favorite reality t.v. show. Maybe Buck Weezer from French Lick, Indiana (where all Frenchmen fear to go) or Frank. Clutterbuck of Nose Hair, New Jersey (where no tweezers have ever survived) is the a huge intergalactic star who keeps the galaxy entertained.

The Truth is Out There (maybe)

When I write a blog post, I normally try to concentrate on humor and the absurd. Today’s post is absurd without the humor. In fact, there is nothing funny about this one at all. A Fortune 500 company is letting its business decisions be guided by a failed quarterback who can’t get a job. That’s right, I’m talking about Nike and the man who continues to linger like the smell from a putrid fart, Colin Kaepernick. It’s bad enough Nike sees him as courageous, when in fact all the jerk did by taking a knee (like he was bowing before the Iron Throne), was find a way to keep his name in the news. Now,  they’ve made an insane business decision by scrapping a planned set of shoes with the Betsy Ross flag design because he objected.

Why?

Because some people might be offended.

Who?

Good question.

Answer: the same set of losers who are always offended by anything Pro-American.

Not only has Nike done something incredibly stupid, but announced it 2 days before July 4th. Just once, I’d like to see a company declare its Independence and free themselves from the Colin Kaepernick’s of the world. This flag that he objects to was good enough for the all black Massachusetts 54th regiment which lost well over half of its men at Fort Wagner during the Civil War. Nike’s decision cheapens the sacrifice that these and other men like them have made. Colin Kaepernick is a man who lived a privileged life even before joining the NFL and who was paid millions for failing at his job. That’s whom Nike has allowed to veto a multimillion dollar line of shoes. A failure. Nike has spit upon men who fought and gave their lives at the behest of a man whose only battle has been to try and force his way back into a league that has told him in no uncertain terms, “your services are no longer required.”

Good job Nike! We’re all so proud of you.

Today is National Postal Worker’s day where we come together in celebration of those people who deluver your monthly bills. Those hard workers who stuff your mailbox with junk mail advertising discount rates for Dish network and who bring you coupons for Pizza Hut and Ihop so you can clog your arteries and elevate your cholesterol. Let us celebrate the people who make us stand in one line while never opening another window as we slowly watch our lives drift by. Say thank you America to the people who charge you $2 dollars for a 25 cent stamp. Show your appreciation to the people who promise over night delivery and then say, “I don’t know what could have happened,” when it hasn’t reached it’s destination two weeks later. Yes America let us give thanks to those hard working men and women who only last week delivered those Christmas cards from 1982. God Bless the American Postal Srrvice. 🇺🇸

It has been two years since my Mama passed away. There’s nothing like the loss of your Mama to make you feel alone in the world, to know the anchor you could cling to is gone forever. Ever since she my mama Sandra Lois Armstrong departed to be with God, November 14, 2017, I have felt a emptiness that nothing can fill. As her death grows in distance her absence is still fresh and unreceding. I think of the times we laughed, talked, argued and enjoyed each other’s company. I think of all of the day’s that we cooked dinner together and how enjoyable it was. I envy those who still have their mother’s and urge you to cherish them. I miss you mama. Happy Mother’s Day Mama. I love you and think of you each and everyday. One day I will see you again. 💖💖💖💖