Marzuki Online

Archive for category curmudgeon

WAS HE JUST SICK OR A VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCE…..zuki buys cough syrup.

Feb 20

Posted by Marzuki in Angry Bartenders, bastards, Beer, Blathering, Blood Sucking, Boy Scout, Crying, curmudgeon, Get on the Bus, Hypocrisy, Karma, Mommy, Mr. Hankey, Nipples, Old People, Pain, poor, Prep H, Suicide Pact, Technology, Urinal Cakes, Virgins, Weddings | 8 Comments

Good Morning Living Examples of Excuse Me but You’re in my Seat,

Long greeting…. But never mind, okay shit I owe the two or three of you reading this farrago some sort of an apology.  I’m simply fucking sick!  Flu like symptoms to be sure, but have a tough time dealing with flem in a gracious manner.  It’s very similar to the malady suffered last month, only worse!  Fever and ever increasing thoughts of suicide plague both my conscious as well as night terrors.  As you might guess, this leaves little time for rest let alone sleep.   I weep for my future!

My trifling maladies really aren’t relevant to today’s posting, but certainly must be considered when contemplating a reply/comment.  This will be a brief admonition but nonetheless important.  Okay, here goes, when Life’s Rich Pageant suggests working with animals, don’t fight it; just give in to living in animal squalor.  In nearly every case, Hollywood animal acts bring in twice union scale, leaving the actors twisting in the wind abandoned by their respective agents.  Go ahead pet the dog like you mean it!

zuki

PS:

I seem to be meandering looking for something that isn’t there, and for that I apologize.  For those of you and God knows who you are, rooting for me even in the most modest fashion, God bless you and yours.  Those of you wishing me ill, let me quote a well intentioned curmudgeon, “Look it up your ass!”  I hope I didn’t shock you with this abrupt and coarse language.  But I’m just sayin….

TECHNOLOGY REARS IT’S UGLY HEAD….zuki has meltdown

Feb 17

Posted by Marzuki in Acceptance, Airlines, curmudgeon, Get on the Bus, Hell, I-Phone, Karma, Mardi Gras, Meltdown, Old People, Road Trip, Stupid, Technology, Texting | 6 Comments

Good Morning Steve Jobs Wherever You Are,

In this world of gadgetry and slick electronics designed to streamline one’s life it’s hard to imagine a world without this magic.  I remember vividly pounding out 50 words per minute on an old Underwood typewriter.  Remember ‘White Out?’ It made typing much easier with a clean copy free of strikethroughs and marveled at such a simple idea.   None of my children would recognize a typewriter.  Curmudgeons in general try to keep up with the latest technology and swell with pride when we figure out how to use an ‘Ap’ on our ‘Smart Phones.’ But most are like me; flashing 12:00s on all appliances, universal remote controls dumbfound us, phones that double as a camera, and MP3 players that can hold more songs than all of us know combined tend to escape the curmudgeonus ones.  Give us something we can wrap our collective arms around, you know, something like a truck or car, now there’s something we can handle!

I had the great opportunity to travel to New Iberia, LA (home of Tabasco Sauce) on business and was accompanied by my camera man Vinny.  For the two or three of you reading this flounce Vinny is the official videographer of the ‘Diatribe.’  He is also the holder of a company Visa card therefore responsible for our travel expenses; in particular hotels and rental cars.  Getting off the plane in Baton Rouge we were immediately taken in by the 75 degree humidity free air.  I felt rejuvenated as I stuffed my leather jacket into my bag and rolled up my sleeves.  The ‘mountain folk’ were basking in 35 degree bluster.  While I watched for our equipment cases to arrive, Vinny walked to the Hertz counter and selected a cute little Mazda that had an electronically controlled 4-speed auto/manual transmission with slope control.  However, this wonderful feature came as a surprise to our Vincent.

Vinny is all business behind the wheel and generally drives 10 to 20 mph slower than the irritated traffic flow.  He managed to find reverse and we at last were on our way! Unfortunately when he gave it some gas he redlined the engine but could only manage 4 mph.  Lurching forward then stopping then forward, and then stopping etc…  Vinny began to panic and I began to laugh hysterically.  Like a mad man he slapped, clicked, pulled, pressed, and violently shook the stick until accidentally he found the proper slot and we were free of low gear.  It reminded me of the day I taught my daughter to drive using a manual transmission and clutch, our little Honda was never the same.  It took me a bit to regain my composure.

Earlier in the week I got an I-Phone 4 and proved I also was not immune to a technology meltdown.  My alarm sounded reminding me to call a local Pizza place to arrange for delivery to those attending our sales presentation.  I had written all the information necessary on the reminder but soon discovered I lacked the technical ability to multi-task.  The least little breath on an icon will cause the screen to change losing what I had so frustratingly found.  Trying to use my I-phone was bad enough, but when you combine that with the depth of stupidity of those I was trying to order from staggers the mind, and after the 8th attempt I lost it.  I grabbed the phone as if it was the moron at the other end and choked it shaking it back and forth screaming a line of profanity at the illiterate footle on the other end.  While it accomplished nothing, I felt much better.

Yes technology is a good thing overall, but I contend it’s a double edged sword.  As Vincent as well as I demonstrated, we can embrace new technology, but only after a humiliating display of incompetence.

zuki

CAN YOU FLY ABOVE?…..zuki loves children…really he does

Feb 10

Posted by Marzuki in Airlines, Children, Crying, curmudgeon, Get on the Bus, Guilt Ridden, Hitch Hike, Mommy, Ordained, Packed & Pressed, Road Trip, sperm | 7 Comments

Good Morning Victims of Wanderlust,

The time has come for all of us to re-examine our collective position on children aboard a plane.  Look, I’ve only traveled for business once in the last five years, but always surprised when well-intentioned parents drag their whinny snot-nosed spoiled kids on a plane full of adults looking to relax.  This is not a good mix!  Against the advice of the ‘Rules Committee’ I have taken the initiative to remedy this blatant act of selfishness.  I have drafted a list of demands that will be sent to the FAA, all major airline companies, as well as everyone’s legislative representative.  If that doesn’t work we’ll have no trouble getting the 20,000 signatures to put it on the ballet.  While I don’t expect this will help me this particular travel year, but I’m confident we’ll impact those self-centered parents in the years that follow. 

ALL AIRLINES SHALL BE MANDATED TO ADHERE TO THE FOLLOWING S.O.P.:

  1. All children under 12 years of age are forbidden to board any commercial flight unless under emergency conditions.
  2. Those parents who’ve not been able to secure baby-sitting or care and insist their children share in their travel experience will be assigned to the “Children’s Travel Bus¹ ” for delivery.
  3. While in the care of our screened and highly trained drivers all children are subject to their will.
  4. A Priest will be on every trip to ‘comfort’ those children upset by the separation from parents.
  5. Every effort will be made to appease screaming children, but if it’s determined by the CTB staff the child is ‘inconsolable’ the staff member has permission to chloroform and subdue unruly child.
  6. Those children still in diapers will be changed at least once per day
  7.  Children taking prescribed medicines will be put under an induced coma until 2 hours prior to arrival.
  8. “Happy Meals” and Diet Coke will be available ‘on demand’ with no additional charge.
  9. Infants still breast feeding must be accompanied by a certified ‘Wet Nurse;’ clothing optional.
  10.  If no parent or approved guardian is there to meet CTB to retrieve child, the child will be considered ‘abandoned’ and sold for medical experiments.

¹”Children’s Travel Bus” is funded by the Airline industry and extra baggage charges will be allowed.

The above is a small price to pay for a quiet, cozy, and enjoyable flight free of screaming children.  I know it sounds a bit harsh, but honestly wouldn’t you rather be chloroformed and out cold for your next flight to Chicago?  You’ll thank me after your first childless flight!  It’s safe to assume the above will sail through both houses no doubt unopposed.  Just sayin…

zuki

HUMILIATION AT CURMUDGEON CORNER….zuki is ashamed

Feb 7

Posted by Marzuki in Angry Bartenders, Beer, Blind people, Can't fix Stupid, curmudgeon, Cush, Drunken sloppy, Fine Dining, French Dip, Handicaped people, Old People, Pigs, sandwich, Urinal Cakes | 4 Comments

Good Morning Children of Caprice,

Well another Super Bowl has come and gone and I for one am grateful.  Two weeks of bluster and bullshit about a football game is way more than enough!  Be that as it may, I was pleased to see ‘Mr. Wonderful’ and ‘Yoda’ taste defeat at the hands of a guy who spends his days ‘gaming’ with other nerds. 

Humiliation comes in many forms and not limited to worldwide audiences of 100 million!  Humility is generally served with “A fine Chianti and Fava beans” as one’s heart is ripped from its natural resting place.  With some kind of Cosmic arrangement humility is normally doled out just when one thinks his/her fecal matter smells of lavender; pleasant to all it encounters.  The ‘Bagged One’ has a lovely turn of phrase to describe this phenomenon calling it “Flying up their own asshole.”  Excogitation is painful at best.  This is why it’s easier to rehash or resurrect an old idea because it’s a ‘no risk’ proposition.  New and brilliant is reserved for those yet to suffer humiliation.  As we all know it’s just a matter of time.

This was never truer than over the weekend.  The football game aside, (these millionaires will no doubt recover and move on) there was an ugly incident involving Cush’s big night out.  Given the thumbs up from mama, Cush took advantage of Blondie’s Super Bowl bash where one could order anything from the menu and an open bar from 4:00 PM until the end of the game, all for $35!  To most ‘Teamsters,’ it’s tantamount to double secret triple overtime paid under the table!  The innocent Polish proprietors had no idea who they were dealing with as Cush downed 5 (count em 5) French Dip sandwiches, a bottle and one half of Crown Royal, and nearly a case of Budweiser. 

Nobody was prepared for this level of carnage.  I asked one of the ‘Pollock’s’ if he made any money from his little soiree’ and all he could do was muster a wry smile while shaking his head no.  Evidently they lost their asses and to a man blame Cush, JJ, and Roger the ‘hairdresser.’  The little hairdresser spilled more beer than he consumed.  JJ left then returned with his coat to better facilitate carting his beloved grilled chicken sandwiches away by stuffing his pockets.  

Shameful, just shameful was the collective sigh of the remaining patrons left twisting in the wind.  With nothing to eat or drink justice seemed unattainable as they watched the three old farts inhale enough food and drink for 50.  Yet as most of us know one can’t consume that much without consequences.  Sure enough while chomping down his 5th French Dip Cush began to choke on the Dill Pickle.  JJ and the little hairdresser were so busy stuffing themselves they failed to see Cush’s distressed situation.  Unable to speak, Cush stood up signaling anyone that cared of his dire need for oxygen.  Turning blue the other patrons turned away and acted as if they didn’t see him feeling very smug about the changing state of affairs.

Running back to JJ and the little hairdresser still pigging out at ‘curmudgeon corner’ Cush blacked out falling directly on the corner of the bar and self administered the Heimlich maneuver launching the soiled pickle directly into JJ’s beer.  Only then did he look up from his plate and assess the chain of events leading to the desecration of his beer.  “What the f—k” JJ screamed, and turned in unison with the little hairdresser as Cush regained consciousness and faced the hungry patrons.  As if scripted, they began to applaud and whistle jeering all three of them.  Needless to say, all three left in a huff.  Really I’m not making this up.

zuki

ASSOCIATE FINALLY GETS A SPINE…..zuki does the dirty work

Jan 29

Posted by Marzuki in Art, bastards, Beer, curmudgeon, Fecal Bliss, Humpty Hump, stinky feet, Straight Jacket, Torture | 3 Comments

Good Morning Patrons of “Tidy Bowl”

Aftermath, consequences, wallop, impact, upshot, offspring, wake, fallout, all describe the ultimate reaction to an event or action taken.  “For every action there is a reaction.”  I’m not sure who said it but it’s become an axiom of sorts.  I open today’s posting with the above primarily to set the tone for what I’m about to unfold.  It saddens me that I should bear the mantle of educible iterations of an obvious disturbed person.  A smarter man than me once said, “No man was ever so much deceived by another as by himself.” Sadly I must report than one of our own has succumbed to this level of deception.

Before I begin in earnest I’d like to point out the many years of service our good friend has proffered on behalf of the ‘Diatribe.’ Their stature is legendary but hardly epic.  He/she has personally assisted in countless acts of futility never seeking compensation or even thanks.  This person is first to rush toward danger, first to throw water on a grease fire, and first to leave the building as it burns to the ground.  You can’t buy that kind of loyalty, nor should you, but just the same this person is in a class unto themselves!

I know what you’re thinking.  “Zuki, why would you heap such praise on this person only to turn around and denigrate them?”   I’m hip.  Please don’t think I enjoy exposing my good friends to ridicule, because I don’t.  But when they fuck up, as they often do, I’m bound by our by-laws to reveal it without prejudice.  For the two or three of you reading this palingenesis you can be certain justice will be administered by lethal injection.  Not literally JJ rather metaphorically.  This infusion of righteous indignation will hopefully bring our associate to an about face.  We can no longer tolerate continued skidding leaving the mess for someone else to “Borax” away.  While our troubled friend has been pampered and spoiled its imperative this shunning is taken seriously.

I got a call from Dr. Slimsy who heads Orthopedic Surgery at Swedish Hospital.  He explained that our good friend had spine surgery less than 24 hours ago.  At long last they have a spine!  Unfortunately they used their newly found posture to wander away.  I thanked the good doctor and had a gut feeling as to where our ‘rules committee’ member was hiding out.  

I got in the car and headed north.  15 minutes later I pulled in front of the bar.  Wrist band still in place, goose-stepping to the Elvis tune “Burning Love” our associate lit from patron to patron displaying the freshly stapled scar.  The manager saw me and immediately rushed toward me begging me to get them out as customers were leaving in droves.  I know for a fact our associate can be dangerous when confronted, not to mention defecating on the floor, so I called for reinforcements. 

Having driven out the last of the stunned patrons, the attendants from our local ‘Cotton Box’ finally arrived with a dart gun and straight jacket.

I followed the ambulance back to the ‘Box’ and glad to announce they’re resting comfortably under the fog of Thorazine.  Officially under ‘observation’ for the next ten days, I’ll update you when I know their disposition.

zuki