ZUKI IDENTIFIES DRUNKS TO AVOID……and the solution is at hand

A Babbling Idiot

A Babbling Idiot

Good Morning Imbibing Masses,

I feel sorry for people who don’t drink. When they wake up in the morning, that’s as good as they’re going to feel all day. ~Frank Sinatra

Drinking most of my adult life, I’m almost certain I’d be classified as an alcoholic functioning or not by those councilors leeching money off of DUI victims with forced attendance.  To deny oneself of the utter joy of imbibing with friends, or even pounding doubles at home, would be tantamount to a prison sentence!  I’m not going to insult the two or three of you reading this subfuscous notion by saying I drink to escape my problems… as all would know what a crock of shit that is, rather, I drink because I like it!

Now that we’ve put that question to rest we can get on with it.

Having spent a goodly portion of my free time drinking at a bar, and having been both a regular patron and a stranger, makes me uniquely qualified to “tell it like it is…”  If one will stop blathering while seated next to another wanna-be football ‘guru’ parroting Jim Rome long enough to look around, you’ll likely see one or all three categories of patrons and are as follows:

“BABBLING IDIOT” – Not limited to any gender this person desperately needs to tell someone, and I mean anyone willing to engage them in conversation, just how smart they are. If one falls prey to these pie-eyed morons be prepared to be bested.  If you’re into a wonderful relationship, he/she has been in one longer and more fulfilling than yours.  If you radically sliced a golf ball two fairways over, he/she will have sliced one so badly it curved around like a boomerang landing just feet from the tee-box.  It simply doesn’t matter what your experience has been the “Babbling Idiot’s” experience will be better, more extreme, or even worse than yours.

“SUFFERING FOOLS” – It’s been my experience these typically are young males filled with testosterone and doing shots of ‘Jägermeister’ or ‘Car-              bombs’ and usually gather in groups or three to five. They become loud and obnoxious (not to be confused with ‘Curmudgeon Corner’) often times              injecting Rap, Hip-hop, or worse Country music into the mix!  As a general rule though, these morons don’t have unlimited dollars for pool and the jukebox so one is able to ‘outlast’ them.

“GADFLY” – These people tend to not have a personality let alone an original thought and will glom onto other groups that seem to be having intelligent witty conversations. Typically these nitwits will hang on the peripherals as to stay in ear-shot.  Then when a random thought drifts into their feeble brains, without thinking they’ll insert themselves like a person with Turret’s Syndrome hoping they’ll be accepted.  But most times they’re ignored by the others and looked at with scorn.

So whether you’re traveling this Holiday season or hanging around, take the time to deliver a valuable lesson.  Next time you’re put upon by one or all of the above do what ‘Curmudgeons’ do….bitch-slap them into the New Year!


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BAGWAN’S PILGRIMAGE TO CLEVELAND……singing and dancing are optional

One of many 'Get-a-ways' for our Bagwan

One of many ‘Get-a-ways’ for our Bagwan

Good Morning Denizens of Chutzpah,

Ah it must be Christmas…. astonishingly our very own Bagwan seeks mystic radiance in Cleveland each year.  His particular ‘Holy Land’ and as evidence of his love for us the unwashed, he has allowed us a rare glimpse into the workings of Bagwan’s spiritual embodiment.  So without further adieu please enjoy additional ‘Truth and Light’ as anointed by the Bagwan:


It’s time for my annual trip to Cleveland to see the grandkids. Before you start all the Cleveland jokes let me tell you that it is not that bad. It has its own charm and I have never yet met anyone living there who wished they lived in Los Angeles.

The charm comes from the fact that it is something of a time capsule. When you don’t have a huge influx of people moving in from other parts of the country you simply keep doing it the way you always have. When I go to my grandsons’ basketball games at Catholic schools I am transported back into the ‘50’s when I was in grade school. Same architecture, same brick, same tiles and somewhere around the corner is the same nun (Sister Mary Paphneushous) waiting to rap me on the knuckles.

No question my appreciation of Cleveland is enhanced by the fact that I get to see three of my grandkids. Being a grandparent is by far the most satisfying role I have ever played in my life. I’ll bet that even Zuki’s grandparents liked him. I won’t bet a lot and I would need some odds.

I should admit that my trip doesn’t technically take me to Cleveland but rather to Avon Lake which is a suburb of Cleveland. Calling it a suburb doesn’t do it justice because it is really more of a small town which just happens to be close to Cleveland. It has its own personality and character and if you live there you really don’t ever have to go to Cleveland proper. If you get sick they even have their own branch of the Cleveland Clinic.

Probably not surprising that my favorite part of Avon Lake is that it has more than a few good neighborhood dive bars. Great places where everyone knows each other and each other’s business. After several years of attending and observing I have been accepted in a Jane Goodall kind of way. I have become such a regular in a couple of those places that I even get some votes in the local “Town Drunk” competition – no doubt embarrassing for the grandchildren.

This year in an effort to minimize my time in the local saloons I was going to come up with a project. I decided I was going write a musical. If that sounds strange let me tell you that you have no idea how strange. I hate musicals. I like music and I like stories but I don’t want to start to get involved in the plot only to have fucking Fred Astaire jump up on a table and start singing and dancing.

Anyways, the fact that it was difficult made it all the more tempting for me. I have never actually sat through a musical, either play or movie, so I didn’t know where to start. JJ is an aficionado of musical theatre and is often heard humming show tunes at the bar at Blondie’s – which has increased the diversity of the clientele there.

I lured him over to the bar at the South so I could get some of his undivided attention. When he is at Blondie’s he is distracted by all the unwashed groveling, asking his advice and trying to touch his garment. We had a good talk and after hearing about his favorite production I decided to do a fun parody that I was going to call “Hitler on the Roof.” Imagine my despair when I got home and Googled only to find that it had already been done.

I wonder if anyone has done “Saturday Night Fuhrer?”



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OFFICE CHRISTMAS PARTY GETS UGLY…….vinny does compare & contrast


Oh My….

Good Morning Mavens of Tinsel,

I think Mark Twain said it best, when he said, “Of the demonstrably wise there are but two: those who commit suicide & those who keep their reasoning faculties atrophied with drink.”

While no one will argue how important our collective futures are, but don’t make the mistake of ignoring the past. The previously trodden soil of those before us contains valuable lessons we can glom onto. Mistakes, insights, successes, and yes even the occasional knee to the groin has already been made available for advancement;  or not.

The problem is we never believe anything in the past is relevant in today’s high tech multi-tasking existence. For most of my associates and curmudgeons at the bar, multi-tasking is ordering another beer while keeping eye contact with our busty bartender!  This is truly sad albeit tougher than you think.

I had the pleasure of attending our annual Christmas party last Saturday. I love most of these people, and maintain a close affiliation with these my friends.  It is festive occasions such as this is where I cut my teeth on office party etiquette and learned the do’s and don’ts of alcohol and its potential for ending one’s career. Over the many years I’ve known these fornicators I’d like to think I’ve influenced most of them in a positive way, yet I’m perplexed at how easily they throw it all away within the context of celebration.

For example; Mr. Groggins is near my age and should know better. When the boss’s wife approached him obviously drunk and wanting to dance, he should have bolted.  Instead he led her to the dance floor where she dry-humped him shamelessly! Everyone was laughing and thought it funny because after all its harmless fun, right? Wrong! While everyone was watching the lewd behavior on the dance floor I was watching the look on the boss’s face, and he was not amused. This seemingly innocuous act of fun will no doubt severely affect his career, not to mention getting his legs broken.

Two hours into the open bar my protégé with the largest potential for success committed professional suicide!  Palmert ignored the buffet and began pounding shots on an empty stomach, thereby heightening alcohols unimpeded path to the bloodstream.

At times like these, one’s sense of equilibrium and judgment are at best “iffy.” I can’t say for certain, but I think it was soon after the sixth round of “Car Bombs” that Palmert thought snorkeling in the egg-nog bowl would be funny. It was definitely funny; right up until ‘911’ had to be called to revive him after vomiting into the bowl subsequently choking himself on a cube of ice.  Struggling he fell down onto the floor spilling five gallons of nog onto the carpet.  I predict Palmert will be gone in a month!

The most egregious act embarrassing us all was performed by Vinny who’s been like a son to me. I’ve imparted nearly every sales trick in the book to him and have had the pleasure of watching him blossom and rise to the top echelon of his craft.  Staggering and slurring his speech badly, Vinny began to literally press the flesh.  He gasconaded loudly so all could hear that his ‘johnson’ was bigger and thicker than every other man in the house!  To prove his point he was not shy about whipping it out and model to all the married women for comparison.  Jeez!

This of course brought the house down.  Amongst the giggles and some admiring complements, he’d lost track of what he was doing and meandered off mumbling something about finding a yardstick. Unfortunately, he had to urinate and didn’t think he had time to find the bathroom.  So he got behind a potted plant, dropped trou, and relieved himself directly into the plastic pot.  What he failed to recognize is his little faux pas was directly in front of the buffet. Security was called and he was escorted to the street where he promptly passed out next to the FedX drop box his ‘Johnson’ still in hand.

Vinny always means well, but at some point he as well as the others must be held accountable for their unconscionable behavior.  When I confronted Vinny at work this morning asking why he felt the need to perform penis puppetry at the party, he looked at me quizzically and said…”What?”

Merry Christmas,


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TEAMSTERS GET THEIR FREAK ON……..cush’s nipples get hard

Teamsters Grooming

Teamsters Grooming

Good Morning Jane Goodall Wherever You Are,

Once in a great while the clouds part, the rain ceases, and a big ol’ rainbow shines over me providing warmth and contentment.  While short lived, it gives reason to pause and remember not everything that happens to me is bad, sad, or ugly….or mostly anyways.

Oscar Wilde said:  Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.

The above was never so evident as it was last evening.  Instead of my usual trip to ‘Curmudgeon Corner,’ I attended a little soiree’ offered by my friend Cush.  For all the grief he takes from me and the other drunks swilling beer at the bar, he mostly shrugs it off rarely taking it personally.  I find this attribute to be rare, particularly among ‘red necked’ Teamsters who typically will break a beer bottle with one’s face rather than take harmless ribbing.

Earlier in the week I asked Cush if it would be alright if I offer up one of my “Pot Pipes” for a small gathering at his place.  The idea of course was to spotlight the pipe’s charm and functionality.  When I arrived I rang the doorbell but nobody came to the door, so I rang it again this time in rapid succession…., nothing nada!  So I clutched the pipe and walked around to the back of the house hoping to see somebody…..anybody!

As it usually is the backdoor was open so I walked in warning anyone within earshot I was in the house.  As I looked around I found it odd that all the furniture, coffee table, and countertops were covered in plastic drop cloths including the front room carpet.  All were securely tapped in overlapping seams keeping them in place.  Then I heard men laughing and clamoring up the basement stairs.

This is where it got weird.  I mean weirder than above!

Reaching the top of the stairs Cush emerged first followed by five other men all of which averaged 250 lbs wearing nothing but a towel.  If I didn’t know better it appeared as if they all just got out of the steam room, but there was no telltale sign of moisture so only God knows what they’d been doing.  It was clear Cush didn’t expect to see me as he no doubt forgot I was coming, so when he got to the top of the stairs he turned bright crimson.  Stunned he made me take a solemn vow to never reveal what was happening and would allow me to observe should I wish to.  So without hesitation I promised to keep silent…..

You realize of course I lied.

The Teamsters removed their towels and sat in more or less a circle.  Like grooming monkeys they sat face to back with each man assigned to shave the back of the man in front and then use the towel to clean off the excess shaving cream.  I felt nauseous.

“Magic Markers” of all colors were heaped in one of Mrs. Cush’s (noticeably absent) ceramic bowls with each Teamster to take what colors needed and proceed to doodle anything including stick figures, graphic text, or simply balloons on the back of the man they’d just shaved.  This went on for more than an hour and was surprised by the drawing skills of a few of them.

What put me over the top was when each man (still naked) rested their respective backs on the upraised knees and shins of the man behind them extending both arms and resting both hands on the shoulders of the man in front.

It was plain to see this was well rehearsed and not the first time this maneuver was executed.  But when they began singing “Kumbayah” swaying left and right I actually threw up in my mouth.  Not wishing to have my pipe soiled by these…ah hem…”Teamsters” I didn’t need to see anymore and left!  I honestly don’t know what transpired after that.  I really don’t want to know!

That said, I’ve had nightmares ever since and only hope this accounting serves as some sort of catharsis!


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HOISTED ON THEIR OWN PETARD!……..zuki targeted for ‘wool gathering’

Don't let this happen to us!!

Don’t let this happen to us!!

Good Morning Village People,

It has come to my attention that Blondie’s intends to put a stop to excessive wool gathering at the bar. Without real proof it’s hard to determine if this policy has been inspired by me or some other mooch, but I’m concerned.  I’ve become the master of nursing a Vodka-Tonic for 60 minutes. The trouble with open directives though, is they must be adhered to by everyone regardless of the one or two people it’s meant to affect.

For a drinking establishment this is a slippery slope because it would reflect badly on management to appear to encourage immoderate drinking by enforcing a per-hour quota. I guess what really bothers me is the fact management couldn’t speak to me directly about this and felt it necessary to draft this corporate policy to get someone else atop my stool. Again all of this is yet to be substantiated, but my source is sometimes reliable depending on what day it is, so I assume it’ll be official by end of the week.

This represents significant change.

For the two or three of you still reading this philosophaster you know how much curmudgeons resist change, and fear the rules committee will not be consulted.  Chances are I’ll be alone on this as no other member would be concerned given their respective levels of consumption and will simply wave goodbye when I’m asked to leave.  Anticipating little or no support I think a didactic approach might be necessary in mitigating this pending gaffe.

I think it’s important to begin with a general definition don’t you? Here it is:

Departmental Directives are used to issue policies, procedures, and guidance which have general applicability for all patrons, as well as off-duty staff.

My defense is historically based. When injunctions or directives are initiated at any level of corporate or governmental hierarchies the eventuality of its initiator falling prey to their own directives is a foregone conclusion! Truly the boss has indeed created his/her own noose and eventually ‘hoisted on his/her own petard!’

Who can forget the Grant administration’s exorbitant payouts to members of a shell company for work on railroads never completed? This of course was from government coffers! In fact scandal plagued him his entire term causing him to become less popular than Bush-2.  Grover Cleveland fathers an illegitimate child, in spite of rumors indicating he couldn’t find his penis! This child grew up to drown Grover in his oversized bathtub!  Clinton getting BJ’s in the Oval Office is punished by being forced to live with Hillary!  ALL collective actions above were in defiance of clearly stated directives to the contrary!

To bring my point front and center so that my colleagues fully understand, let us not forget the countless indiscretions committed while sitting at the bar. It begs the question….do we need additional decrees at the bar?

Today the quota, tomorrow flatulence; where will it stop?

By insisting on an hourly quota without a collective protest we open Pandora’s Box! Once management sees how easily these corporate directives are absorbed, you mark my words the flood of rules concerning everything from dress codes to tipping will be in the form of signed memos! I trust the good patrons at Blondie’s will recognize the potential restrictions to our personal freedoms if this policy is adopted. I implore you for once in your drunken lives to look beyond this measure and see it for the insidious life sucking abomination it really is!!!

Have a nice day,


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