Monthly Archives

July 2016

All Entries Food & Recipes Humor

The $84 Windpipe

July 11, 2016

“Never eat at a restaurant where the waiters wear spoons around their necks.”

That was the cost-conscious advice my rabbi proffered as I was trying to decide where to celebrate the first day of my girlfriend’s Rumspringa. I met Abhilasha Maddox online through Hotamishsingles.com and wanted to mask my stinginess by treating her to an upscale dinner at Reynaldo’s. My hope was that she would abandon her religious way of life to come live with me in the room I rented from my parents.

As it turns out, my rabbi wasn’t referring to a waiter – the correct term is sommelier – and Reynaldo’s was crawling with them. Plus, those weren’t spoons around their necks – they were “tastevins” – shallow, engraved cups designed to help embrace the appearance, aroma, finish, complexity, character, romance, potential or faults of a wine when determining what pairs best with Beluga, agar-agar or fachaud-froid. I had no idea that an alcoholic beverage could have character or romance. What I did know was this dinner was going to vaporize the down payment I’d saved for my house, so I’d better enjoy it. read more

All Entries Family Home Life Humor Pets and Animals

Don Ho Versus the Rats

July 11, 2016

From the moment my brother invited me to visit him on the north shore of Oahu, all I could think about was the fragrance of Hibiscus wafting through the evening air, miles of white sand beaches, steel guitar and ukulele music and papayas growing in the front yard. What I hadn’t thought about were the rats.

Besides being home to quaint Waikiki, the Polynesian Cultural Center, outrigger canoe rides and bronzed girls in grass skirts, Oahu is famous for its nightlife: 7 varieties of Geckos, 17 species of amphibians, dozens of poisonous lizards, snakes, spiders, frogs, toads, centipedes and the biggest rats known to man. Rats that carry fatal diseases like the plague, murine typhus, leptospirosis, and salmonellosis. Rats that can eat through linoleum floors faster than a cordless Makita.

My brother’s house was in the country, on the point of Waimea Bay – literally a toad’s throw from the water and the jungle they call home. Built in the early 1940s, none of the windows really shut. It was riddled with spaces between the clapboard siding, giving amphibious visitors unbridled access to the inside of his home. Tourists staying in Waikiki never learn about this elusive slice of Hawaiian life because modern high-rise hotels are sealed tighter than a Wahine’s pink canoe and constantly patrolled by exterminators. read more

All Entries Humor Leisure and Sports

Zap Them Trout

July 7, 2016

One of my favorite ways to relax is to load up my sport utility vehicle with fishing poles, reels and tackle boxes filled with thousands of dollars of lures, lead weights, stinky bait, squirming worms, extra rolls of line and nets, storage creels and ice chests for a little bit of fishing. The problem is I never seem to catch anything.

After spending hours sitting in a boat or on the side of the river under the blistering sun, swatting away mosquitoes, I rarely catch a fish large enough to feed one member of my family. It’s frustrating. I just wish there was an easier way. Fortunately, there is – The Electro Fisher.

The Electro Fisher is an ingenious piece of sports equipment that is guaranteed to bring in the fish. With my busy schedule, I’ve never really learned how to fish properly. So, I don’t know the difference between a fly rod and a fly swatter. But it doesn’t matter with The Electro Fisher. I can be an experienced angler in a matter of minutes.

The secret to The Electro Fisher is its high voltage fishing “wand.” I just attach the Fishing Wand to the patented battery pack and I’m ready to go. Each high voltage Fishing Wand throws out 10,000 volts of killer electricity over a twenty foot diameter. Just dip the Fishing Wand into the water and throw the switch. Within minutes, I have dozens of Brook, Rainbow and Cutthroat trout bobbing on the surface of the water, ready to pick up with my bare hands. No more tedious knot tying, spending hundreds of dollars on expensive lures or exhausting myself by whipping my fishing pole back and forth. read more

All Entries Health Humor

The Vampire Will See You Now

July 7, 2016

I can’t stand the sight of blood. I’m not too wild about vomit or feces, either, but I’ve manage to evade both by steering clear of retirement homes and small children. So, when it came time to train as a phlebotomist, I surprised everyone. Including myself.

I was enrolled in a graduate program for Mortuary Science when it came time to write my thesis. I pleaded with my advisor to let me wash her car instead, but it was inevitable I’d be spending the next 2 years pulling long nights in the library. I managed to escape it for a while by failing to come up with a suitable subject. Then, she gave me one.

“How about studying involuntary sphincter control at high altitude?” she asked. Sounded good to me. Master’s and PhD theses always reflect some sort of scientific gobble-de-gook with unpronounceable titles, but ultimately, I ended up writing the great American novel, “The Effects of Projectile Diarrhea and Urinary Incontinence During Pole Vaulting in the 1968 Mexico City Summer Olympics.” read more

All Entries Education Humor

The Scourge of Notre Dame

July 7, 2016

“I will not throw chalk at Nathan Pickler’s head. I will not throw chalk at Nathan Pickler’s head. I will not throw chalk at Nathan Pickler’s head.” And so on and so on.

After cutting up and looking for ways to continually push the envelope, you’d think that I would have learned my lesson by now: don’t get caught throwing chalk at the back of Nathan Pickler’s head. But I did, so there I was standing at a blackboard in a nearly deserted classroom two hours after all my friends had gone home. At Notre Dame High School, they called it detention. At other penal institutions, it’s known as incarceration, detainment or being sent up the river.

I found myself attending Notre Dame by once again blindly following in my brother’s footsteps. It wasn’t the first time. Nor would it be the last. As a misguided 9th grader, there was something alluring about attending a private, all-boy Catholic high school run by the Brothers of the Holy Cross – sort of like getting accepted for SEAL training when you’re 14 years old. Compared to other schools, Notre Dame was not only harder to get into, it was more difficult to stay out of trouble once you got there. But the Brothers did the best they could by introducing us to a life of spirituality, human compassion and frequent doses of corporal punishment. read more

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