Random Wordplay for Wednesday 1/11/17

Seeing the sexual sights.

Used in a sentence:  "Far be it from me to begrudge 'president' elect Trump from a standard part of any great vacation:  seeing the sexual sights that the locals have to offer."

It's what you do when you travel.  If you go to Tijuana, you're going to take in an actual dog and pony show (you DO know how that phrase originated, right?).  If you go to Bangkok, you're going to dodge the artfully launched ben wa balls being pinged (or is that ponged) into the crowd,  If you're already in Thailand, you might bump into a lady boy or two.  If you go to San Francisco, you're going to go try out a restroom glory hole (but only after first confirming with the owner of the orifice on the other side that he isn't a cop, 'cause if he was a cop he'd have to say so).  It's what you do.

So if Comrade Trump allegedly wanted to watch a little girl-on-girl golden shower action as he vacationed in Moscow, then maybe it all boils down to the fact that he was just seeing the sexual sights, and he shouldn't be slammed for it.  For all we know, one of the two women engaged in the public display of urination may have been in the running to become his next mail order bride.  Finding the right partner is a process, and maybe this whole escapade was a part of it.  If it *was* some kind of negotiation, let's just focus on the fact that he no doubt negotiated hard ... he negotiated bigly ... he got the best deal when it came to the menu of options those prostitutes would perform.

Side note:  can we stop with the feigned surprise that this was allegedly on this man's itinerary ?  This is the guy who spends time in locker rooms bragging about grabbing genitalia (because, after all, his tiny hands couldn't exactly get a hold of all the breasteses, like typical sexual assaultists) and the guy who would only naturally bang his daughter if it wasn't for those darn anti-incestual norms (because, you know, he thinks she's hot).

Additional side note:  it has bothered me since the beginning of this election cycle about his unique hair color and how so many of the people on his team seemed to be using the same dyeing process to get that same Trumpian golden glow on all their coifs (see the head of Kellyanne Conway as the lead example).  I'm thinking this latest "leak" to the press is going to blow the lid off that little beauty secret.  Hint:  it's not hair dye that gets you that color ...

One final note:  if it turns out that "President"Elect Trump was the one filming "two girls and a cup" a few years back, then THAT should definitely disqualify him from taking office.  There has to be a line drawn somewhere.

SO MAYBE I'M GETTING DOG AND PONY MIXED UP WITH DONKEYS (NSFW):
http://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/news/ask-a-mexican-on-the-truth-about-tijuana-donkey-shows-6463551

THE ALLEGED SITUATION:
http://www.newsweek.com/trump-russian-spies-infamous-golden-shower-memos-541315

KELLYANNE CONWAY HAS HER OWN TROUBLES:
http://www.cosmopolitan.com/politics/a8463346/the-funniest-reacts-to-kellyanne-conways-heroes-and-villains-tweet/

Random TNT for Tuesday 1/10/17

TNT ... CHICAGO 2:

1  There was plenty of blame to go around, as far as Zar was concerned.  2  He had been promised by the hosts of the New Year's Eve shindig that the other guy wasn't even going to be invited.  3  So either the hosts had lied, or his nemesis J had found out about the gathering and decided that there would be no harm in making an appearance. 

4  Whether a set-up or an unfortunate coincidence, it was still Zar who reacted, so he had to share some of the fault.  5  Better said, courtesy of the abundance of the holiday spirits, it was still Zar who OVER-reacted, spurred on by the excess of alcohol.  6  For that, he was personally holding Marta responsible.  7  She was the one who insisted they play the drinking game, and it was her lack of hand eye coordination that kept them on the losing end, awash in shots as punishment for their failures.

8  If placing the blame was the name of the new game in which he was engaged, then he decided his dead mother would have to get in on that action.  9  She had kept her cancer diagnosis a secret from her kids, and in so doing, had robbed him of the time he needed to prepare for her demise.  10  His emotional growth was now stunted, and his coping skills would forever be sup-par.

11  Then there was Maria -- pregnant-with-child older sister Maria.  12  If she hadn't been so insistent on being the one to call if he ever found himself in trouble, then she wouldn't have gotten the call after he confronted his nemesis about his lies and deceit.  13  She wouldn't have been in the Uber driver's car in her condition shortly before the stroke of midnight just to save him from certain charges of assault because he was close to acting out in a physical way.

14  So there it was.  15  The fact that Zar was squatting at the curb, spitting up the extra Jager from the two too many shots he had just taken was the fault of the party hosts, his nemesis J, his drinking buddy Marta, his dead mother Maggie and his pregnant sister Maria.  16  He cursed each of them separately as his body spasmed and retched.

17  From the activity in the car that he couldn't bear to witness, he concluded that his pregnant sister Maria was pregnant no more.  18  The stranger who was in charge of the birth yanked on his collar.  19  "Let's go," she barked to him.  20  "We have to get to the hospital."  21  He made a note to ask his sister at some appropriate later time how it was that the Uber driver had an additional passenger who was skilled at the art of baby delivering.

22 Now was not the appropriate time though.  23  He climbed into the back seat, trying to find a place to perch that wasn't a yucky wet spot.  

24  He had purposefully gone out of his way to avoid seeing his sister mid-birth, because, after all, she was his older sister and that would have been too gross.  25  However, there was no way he could miss the aftermath.  26  He stared into the little child's eyes, wrapped in a coat as she was with a nametag that said Angel that the driver had given his sister, and he was almost certain that the baby winked at him.

27  Maria smiled at him through exhausted eyes.  28  "Little Gabriella April, meet your Uncle Lazaro."

Random Memorial for Monday 1/9/17

Gone but not forgotten:  this latest entry in my ongoing series "discarded cassettes".

Since it is the first time it's appearing on the new blog (so much change!), I should explain the concept again.  The cassettes I find in my trash can every fortnight are being thrown out ONLY because I also already have the matching item in CD format.  This means that they are going to heavily favor the late 80's/early 90's (my Columbia House/BMG/12cassettesforapenny days).

In NO way is this recurring act to be interpreted as any kind of commentary on the actual artist -- especially seeing as how one of my favorite ladies will find herself in the trash all the way from now until the summer -- starting with the classic 10th studio album from Reba back when she still had a professional last name (McEntire, of course).  As for the song to feature, it's NOT going to be the sad title track ... but the empowerment upbeat anthem that was a second release.  In modern lingo, it was the "conscious uncoupling" of its time -- where maybe only the one party was aware.

'Whoever's in New England', at least until the next time I listen to the CD version, you will be missed.

TAKE A CHANCE TONIGHT AND UNTIE THE KNOT:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcdPMAS4MtA

Random Scandal Sheet for Sunday 1/8/17

What southern Florida is talking about this week:

... the tragedy at the local airport.

Images of four of the five victims have now been released (full disclosure ... this is actually being written on the 9th, but, through the magic of the blog, it's being retroactively dated for the 8th) and their (mostly) smiling faces just make it all the more heart-wrenching.

In just over a month, I'll be at that same airport, returning from a work trip, standing at a baggage claim, waiting for my luggage to make its way out on to the carousel.  I'll be thinking about reuniting with my loved ones, picturing the wagging tails of the puppies and the excited whine that Casanova makes when he sees someone he hasn't seen in a week and the way that Ozzie will go toward my feet and put my sneakers in his mouth to punish them for having taken me away.  I'll be thinking back on my time in Vegas, remembering that whatever happened there stayed there, as per the rules ... and I'll be planning to spend quality time with my Indiana family, who will already be here for their yearly winter visit.  I'll be salivating about my annual birthday steak dinner, postponed so that they can join, and what will be the highlights of the week ahead.  I'll be in a spot facing the conveyor belt so that I can grab and go, wondering if my bags will be first out -- or last out -- or worse (one out first, one out last) -- or worst (not out at all -- which has only ever happened to me once).  I'll be reading some old newspapers, whatever I couldn't finish on the flight, waiting for the cruise ship sound that signals the machinery is about to start.

Or at least that's the way it would have been expected to be IF it were just the denouement of any normal flight like any other I had taken over and over again in my travels.

Instead, I expect I'll be repositioned in a back corner where I can watch everyone gather, content to wait until after I've evaluated the situation and only after I've identified places to exit quickly and/or shelter in place to grab the bags.  I won't mind if the luggage goes around a few times while I perform a safety check.  Most certainly, I will not have my head stuck in a newspaper, and my thoughts about loved ones and future plans will have to be displaced to the back burner by my awareness about the immediate danger in which I may or may not find myself.  I'll consider it a success if I can just escape unharmed.

Such is life in modern times.

Eventually, that thought pattern will be tamped down by realizing that it's just all too random any more.  That soft targets abound.  That barely treated mental illness coupled with our go-go-gun society has rendered us all potential targets at any possible time.  That there is no preparation plan for that kind of randomness.  That living in fear isn't living.  That freedom comes from being in each moment because the next moment isn't guaranteed.

Eventually I'll get there.

Just not in a month when I fly again ...

IN HONOR OF THE VICTIMS:
http://www.cnn.com/2017/01/07/us/fort-lauderdale-victims-profiles/

ESSENTIAL TRAINING FOR MODERN TIMES:
https://www.dhs.gov/active-shooter-preparedness

4% OF THE MENTALLY ILL ARE VIOLENT ... BUT OUR *SOCIETY* IS VIOLENT:
http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2016/06/untangling-gun-violence-from-mental-illness/485906/

Random Soapbox for Saturday 1/7/17

I don't mean to go off on a rant here, but ...

... I turned 45 today and I had to deal with the fact that half of my life is now almost definitely over.

Admittedly, there's a chance that I'll make it to the triple digits and get a shout out from Willard Scott on the Today show (is he still alive?  do they still do that?).  After all, I've pretty much a diet of Guinness and bacon ... and Guinness has restorative powers and bacon has niacin, which helps people live longer.

But my birthday is now linked to my bio-dad's death day (four years ago just a few days before my celebration), so I am keenly aware that he didn't quite make it to 90 -- hence the math today that led to my conclusion.

Don't worry -- I have no plans to deal with the likely passing of my mid-life with the traditional crisis.  I'm NOT going to get a toupee.  Instead, I'll continue to get a haircut every two weeks to trick myself into thinking that I *choose* to keep it this short and that I'm not going balder.  And I'm NOT going to trade in the Chevy Cruze for some fancy automobile.  After all, I have previously admitted that when I see a guy in a fancy car, I assume that they were running short when he was in the appendage line before birth and so he must compensate.

What I AM going to do though now that it's all downhill from here?  Live, love, laugh and be happy.  Sure it's a cliche ... but that doesn't make it any less sound advice for advancing into those golden years.  Here's to the next 45 (and here's hoping I get to share them with all of you).

I'M GONNA LIVE FOREVER:
http://www.irishcentral.com/news/guinness-is-good-for-you-say-medical-experts-113839559-237365401

I'M GONNA LIVE FOREVER REDUX:
http://nextshark.com/new-study-suggests-eating-bacon-may-prolong-life-make-it-more-amazing/

BRING IT!:
https://www.theguardian.com/society/2010/sep/29/10-point-guide-to-beating-that-midlife-crisis

Random Flashback for Friday 1/6/17

Tonight's theme for the 27th batch of photos of my father's that I inherited when he passed is "color photo kick off".  It's been a week of change over at the old blog, but one thing NOT changing is that, on every other Friday, I'll be sharing five more photos.  The difference for 2017, though, is that we've finally made it through the black and white pics, and now we're in the fancy modern color ones.  Since it's a reset of sorts, I figured it made sense to start with a reminder of the main cast that will be featured.  To whit ...

#131:  group shot (from the early 80's I think) of my father (third from the left) with his parents and his brothers and sisters:  Grandpa Paul, Uncle Junior, my dad, Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Fred, Uncle Jimmy -- Aunt Maryann and Grandma Esther in front row -- and Uncle Carl (and puppy!) seated 
#132:  group shot (stamped Oct 71) of back row Uncle Fred, Uncle Junior, Aunt Maryann, Uncle Jimmy and front row my dad, Grandpa Paul, Grandma Esther and Aunt Evelyn (Uncle Carl is not pictured)
#133:  group shot (likely the 90's or 00's) of Aunt Maryann, Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Fred, Uncle Jimmy, Uncle Junior and my dad (my Uncle Carl and my grandparents had passed by this time)
#134:  my dad's mom Esther (my grandma) and HER sisters at a family reunion ... I'll have to dig out the family history book for all of their names
#135:  my dad's mom Esther (my grandma) and her sisters AND their spouses (also at a family reunion I'm sure) -- my grandma is in the brown dress

Random Taste for Thursday 1/5/17

In a week of change, some things will be staying the SAME in the new year.  Specifically, that which ran on consecutive Thursdays last year is returning for a 2017 edition.  Here's how it was introduced last year:

I could pretend that I want to try my hand at reviewing restaurants ... but really I just want an excuse to eat out at least once a week. Indeed, that is exactly the goal ... and although I promise that not every thing featured every week will be covered in bacon, I do hope to bring some delectable dishes to the weekly post ... and to offer up some "dish" about local eating establishments (and there may be a bacony thing or two ... in the vein of "know your brand").

The rules are simple ... one NEW place (at which I've never before eaten) each week, with a year end best-of wrap up on Dec [28th]. And although I expect that most places will be within the more immediate tri-county area (Broward, MiamiDade and PalmBeach), I am hoping to expand to other locations within the state as travel plans permit.

All that said, there will be a few changes for 2017.  For instance, the old "Random Thought for Thursday" is now officially retired (replaced by the now more accurate "Random Taste for Thursday") AND this too will have its own spin off dedicated blog -- going "live" next week with the first of fifty entries for 2017 (and with all of last year's entries uploaded to it).  One last thing -- that blog will be searchable by new topics (category, grade, location, overall Troy-score, plus1s, perfect 10s and year).  Be on the lookout for a special "redemption round" each quarter as well.

Here's to 50 more delicious meals at 50 exciting eating establishments!

WATCH THIS SPOT NEXT WEEK!:
https://50tastesofflorida.blogspot.com/