Avengers...Eat Breakfast?

As a self proclaimed geek, especially in the Star Wars categories, I enjoy a good comic book from time to time.  I also enjoy watching superhero movies as well, I love anything that has the "man" in the end of the word...wait...that sounded really gay...I also really enjoy the female superhero movies too.  What's that?  There really isn't many female superhero movies?  Well here, look at these for a minute and it will erase the whole "man in the end" comment.

 You're welcome, but unfortunately these are not real movie posters or promotional pictures, they are the workings of some very, VERY talented Photoshoppers and to them I salute you.  Can you imagine those coming at you in 3D......sorry my mind drifted and I need to get on with the actual post...

So, ahem, anyway I like superhero movies and I have a new favorite movie of all time, The Avengers.  I have watched this movie at least a half dozen times between the theater and owning it on BluRay.  Now before you jump all over me about this being my new favorite movie and not one in the Star Wars Saga, Star Wars is a category all of it's own and I will still consider the Saga the best and my absolute favorite...period, but for individual movies outside the Star Wars category, The Avengers is now my favorite and it is also a favorite of the Minions.

Thor is awesome, but the Minions keep him on the outside

My Minions have moved on from their original roles that you have now come to know, they have the same personalities but different "role models".  This for most purposes is a good thing because they are heroes and do what's right.  For the past few mornings they have come to breakfast with the war cry of "Avengers assemble!" and just like the movie, the three of them come from all different directions of the house.

Minion #1, who tends to lean towards Captain America, will be the first to arrive and take his place at the breakfast bar and being the leader he calls out for the other two Minions.  Next to appear would be #3 who has replaced his knock, knock, knock with a BAM, BAM, BAM on his bedroom door.  #3 has assumed the role of the Iron Man.  Finally #2 comes to the scene, not worrying about much of anything other than himself, he has adopted the persona of Bruce Banner, working hard to hide his secret, The Hulk.

For those who have not yet been introduced to the Minions, feel free to head over to this Minion post to get caught up to speed.  Now flash forward a few months.

Updated Not So Top Secret Dossiers

GROUP LEADER

Codename: Captain Minion

File Name:  Fuller, D.  SN: XXX-XX-XXXX

D.O.B.:  12-24-2003  Grade:  E-3

Primary Objective:  To Help Protect The World

Super Powers:  Brilliant Mind and "Super Soldier"

#1 has entered the next level of his training, 3rd grade.  He has adopted the persona of Captain America and now fights to defend what he feels is right.  Unfortunately for his superiors, what he feels is right isn't always.  #1 is still the leader of the group and has recruited others to join as well; reference Secure File:  Gav Man and Syd Vicious.

MUSCLE

Codename: The Undoubted Hulk

File Name:  Fuller, B.  SN:  XXX-XX-XXXX

D.O.B.:   10-18-2006  Grade:  E-K

Primary Objective:  To Smash Everything In Sight and Control The Monster

Super Power:  Brute Strength and Cunning (When Not The Hulk)

#2 has breathtaking anger management issues.  He is working hard on controlling the beast within and has gone almost a week without incident.  #2 can loose control at any moment and depending on the situation, destroy and entire backyard.  He has increased his potential to control the beast by starting his training in Kindergarten, the trainers there are superb and are working very hard with him.  The superiors are still convinced that he was exposed to gamma radiation either shortly after being born or while still inside the womb.  There is constant monitoring of #2.

DISTRACTION

Codename:  Gas Man

File Name:  Fuller, T.  SN:  XXX-XX-XXXX

D.O.B.:  4-13-10  Grade:  P-2

Primary Objective:  To Attempt To Fly and Defend The Fortress

Super Power:  Unlimited Supply of Gas and Verbal Assault

#3 has developed quickly in the past few months and has truly come into his own.  He is quickly learning his role in the group but does not seem satisfied with it.  The superiors have recorded signs that he wants something bigger and more powerful than what he has now.  #3 has started forming the ability to have his powers and those of his brother Minions.  This is a concern to the superiors especially since he has been able to grasp the English language now.  #3 is one lab experiment gone wrong to becoming the ultimate fighting force.

Peep This, Bitch!

New England?

Ah, Fall in New England, there's nothing quite like it.  The air is crisp and clean and the sky is bright and clear.  The sound of laughter resonates through the apple orchards as families pick the apples right from the trees.  The crumbs from the cider donut float in your hot pumpkin coffee after just dipping it.  The smell of the local and state fairs flood your nostrils with the aroma of fried foods and cotton candy.  The taste of fresh apple cider straight from the press.  The leaves crunch softly as you hike through the quiet woods with nothing but the sounds of birds off in the distance.  It sounds fantastic doesn't it?

Kiss my left ass cheek and make the right one jealous.

Fall in New England is torture for us living here.  There, I just dragged you out of your little day dream of a romantic walk bundled up in sweaters and "walking boots".  Sure there are lots of things that make Fall my favorite season, and yes, you read that right, it is my favorite season, I like Fall because, as a fluffy guy, it is much more tolerable than summer and not as cold as winter, but unfortunately there are too many other things that counteract the nice aspects of Fall.
 
1.  Pumpkin, mother f'ing, everything.  Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy a nice piece of pumpkin pie but, as soon as September 1st hits the calendar, every food retailer in New England unveils their pumpkin arsenal.  You have pumpkin coffee, pumpkin lattes, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin donuts, pumpkin bagels, pumpkin candy, pumpkin chips, pumpkin beer...wait, pumpkin beer is good, we need to keep that around just for the sake of our sanity, but every other type of food up here suddenly gets a pumpkin cousin to add to the family.

2.  Back to School.  Most people rejoice when they send their kids back to school, we did the same when we put Minions #1 and #2 on the bus, but with great rejoicing come many headaches.  Two days into it they come home with an assortment of papers and flyers from the school.  There are forms upon forms to fill out, book fair circulars, fundraising pamphlets and school pictures.  Holy shit!  I need to save up money the day after the Minions get out of school just to support...school.

3.  Temperature Fluctuations.  The temperatures up here change like priests in a Catholic church.  You wake up and it's 35 degrees out and by the time you come home it's 80 degrees out.  Mother Nature is a menopausal bitch.  Everyone gets sick in the fall and there's no amount of vitamin C that will help it.  This, with the inevitable petridish know as a public school make Fall a son-of-a-bitch season to get through.  Then you have the problem when it comes to Halloween, it's so cold out that night the kids have to wear a parka over their Superman costume.  This year the Minions will have Eskimo costumes.

4.  Winter Is Right Around The Corner.  This could be a post of it's own and it probably will be, but when the calendar changes to September, every seasoned New Englander knows in that that white shit will be appearing soon.  We start swapping out out lawn furniture for snow shovels, we tune up our plows and snow blowers and we replace air conditioners with storm windows.  We do all of this while most of you are still swimming in your pools and BBQing on your decks, asstards.

And lastly....

5.  Two Words - Leaf Peepers.  Listen you freaks of nature, for the love of all that is good, stay the fuck home!  I'm glad you got up at the ass crack of dawn and drove all the way up here from Asshat, New York but do you really have to drive so slow on a Sunday while I am trying to run to the store to get a gallon of milk because we ran out?  Oooooh.  Ahhhhh.  Look at the colors....what do you mean look at the colors?  Oooooh.  Ahhhhh. Your ass.  It's red, orange and yellow.  You can open a basic Crayola crayon box and see the exact same colors.  Give me your email address and I will send you a picture of the foliage, you can print it out in HD and hang it on the wall so that you can keep your city ass home.

You spend your entire Sunday driving over covered bridges that were meant to hold the weight of a horse not a Prius, looking this way and that at the "lovely colors", while sipping your pumpkin chai, latte, mocha, frocha, go crash into a tree coffee.  You drive to the local apple orchard, where the other eleven months of the year the people who live here buy the fresh fruit and produce from, allowing the orchard owners to raise the price of the apples and other fall food, because they know your dumb ass will pay $5.00 for a glass of apple cider.

So, before you decide to take your next Sunday adventure, please remember the people who live here the other 350 (or so) days of the year.  Thank you...and go shove an Indian Corn up your ass.

Once again, I am submitting this post to the weekly Dude Write Challenge.  Make sure you read all of the other Dude Bloggers, comment on their blogs if you feel inclined and then come back to vote for your favorite ones...with mine being one of you favorites I hope.

Look Ma, No Hands!

Brain cancer anyone?

Over the past several years, there has been a fascination of sorts with hands free, for lack of a better words, things.  It started with those cyborg looking BlueTooth devices that you stick in your ear, then is progress to your car being a hands free phone system.  For the most part this is safer and much easier for people.

Now there are hands free electronics.  X Box came out with the Kinnect, where you don't need a controller to play video games anymore.  Growing up in the '80s, I can tell you that you lost me on that one Sony, I gave into the wireless controllers and even the Wiimotes but Sony drew a line and fucking stepped right over it.  I have even seen a commercial for a TV where a remote control is not required, all you do is wave your hand like you're a Jedi and you control the TV, but we don't have flying cars yet?

Yeah...shoulda bought a bigger TV stand...

For years I have adapted to this hands free age and have learned to live in it, much like an animal who needs to adjust to their new environment but now the hands free people have gone too far. Picture it, a family shopping at a local Target...

"Dad, I need to go to the bathroom", Minion #2 informs me.

"OK, let's go", I tell him and then realize if he has to go, that means #1 and #3 need to relieve themselves, "Do you guys have to go too."

"Yup."

"Poop!"

"Ok, let's go guys.", and I parade the three Minions into the mens room.

#1 can take care of things on his own, without supervision, #2 needs some guidance and #3, well, he still shits his pants.  We enter the bathroom and I start barking out orders of the well practiced plan.

"#1, go to that urinal there, #2 you go to that urinal that is lower and I'll take #3 into the big stall over here.  When you are done, you flush, go wash your hands and wait right here for me until I am done with #3.  Got it?"

The handicapped stall is the luxury box.

"Got it!", is said by both in unison and we take our places.  I proceed into the handicapped stall or "big stall" because let's face it, there is more room and it is easier to maneuver around in.  #3 can't go to the bathroom without removing all the clothes on his lower extremities, so I remove his shoes, socks, pants and underwear and place him on the toilet.  As many of you know, #3 is gassy, REALLY gassy, so even if he is just peeing he farts, but this time after the fart I heard the distinct splashing sound of a stink rocket landing.

"Did you go poop?"

"Sure did!"

I lean him forward and start wiping when all of a sudden, WHOOSH! The toilet flushes on it's own while #3 is still sitting on it.  Not only does it scare the living hell out of him but I'm afraid he's going to get sucked down into it.  Now #3 is freaking out because "the potty growled" at him.  We leave the big stall and I see both #1 and #2 looking at the urinals.

"Um, guys, what are you doing?"

"There's no flusher on these."

"Oh, you need to move away from the urinal to let them flush, they are motion detectors."

They both back away from the urinals and they don't flush.  Whoever designed these urinals obviously didn't have an eight and five year old in mind because the sensors are above their heads, so I walk over and wave my hand in front of them to flush them.

I should stop right here actually and fill you in on something, some of you are probably thinking "Who cares if it flushes, it's a public bathroom."  Well I care, it's one of my quirks, like the cotton balls.  I had a public bathroom incident once where all the toilets were unflushed and it splashed on me, that's why I flush every toilet.

Anyway, back to the story, I flush the urinals and turn to head to the sink.  Both Minions 1 and 2 are pondering the soap dispenser...it's hands free.  I explain to them that, like the urinal, it has a sensor in it and can tell when there is a hand under it.  They get it figured out and then they are baffled by the sink, again hands free.  They both get the hang of it after I show them to keep their hands there to wash.  It was then that I realized I have three Minions.  I had put #3 down to teach #1 and #2 and told him to stay right there, which he did, but I kept hearing a zzzz sound.  I looked over and #3 has figured out how to operate the soap dispenser and there is foam all...over...the...place.  They put motion sensors six inches above a kids head at the urinal but make it perfectly possible for a two year old to dispense soap?  Go figure.

I clean #3 up (letting the soap on the floor stay there, I feel an employee cleans the shitter every hour anyway) and we turn our adventure to the hand dryers.  Now, the hand dryers are something that all three Minions are used to, but this one is different...it's made by Dyson.  Dyson is who made my vacuum.  At this point I am bewildered to the orange and white contraption bolted to the wall and I now have to read the directions. Have you ever been caught reading the directions of something that 99.9% of people know how to use?  You feel like an idiot.  Come to find out that you place your hands fingers down into this V shaped mouth and the air (which is like the high pressure driers at an automatic car wash) "push" the water off of your hands.  What they neglect to tell you is that the force from the air also pushes all of your skin to the other side of your hand.

Ahhhhh!  My skin is peeling off!

As we are drying our hands, I think to myself how far we have come attempting to keep everything sanitary and to avoid spreading germs.  It's remarkable actually, maybe they could put some warning labels on these things, but for the most part you don't have to touch anything someone else has touched to go to the bathroom....and then I turned to open the door...

Epic Fail hands free bathroom architects, Epic Fail.

A Just Cause

That's right biz-nitches!

Before I get into my post I would like to direct everyone's attention to Dude Write and more specifically the fact that I, once again, won the Diamond Man Card for my Sticky Situation post.  With this win, I now have a total of nine, count them nine Man Cards since entering the Dude Write Challenge.  I also need to congratulate all of the other winners for their posts and deserving Man Cards.  All of the posts were read-worthy and fantastic, go on over and check them out if you haven't done so already.


So I did my daily routine this morning AFTER my normal routine that you have already read about.  I got in my truck, drive to my first customer and then I set up camp for twenty minutes or so to check emails, Facebook, Twitter and my blog comments.  Normally I start with Facebook and scroll my way down to where I left off the night before.  I usually enjoy catching up with friends and family, reading the occasional humorous Ecard and getting my morning Star Wars fix.  Sure there are the Fakebookers and needy status attention seekers, but most of the people on my friend's list are there because I genuinely enjoy reading their posts.

Recently though, there has been a disturbing trend happening.  It's not the political status update trend, it's not the crappy Instagram picture postings, nope not at all.  It's when you are scrolling down your Facebook homepage and then BAM! you're hit with the picture of a baby who has a tumor the size of a grapefruit, a five year old with obvious hand prints welted on her face or even the dog that is so malnourished you can see all of it's bones or worse the dog or cat that is shown to be beaten by it's owner.  Dude!  Way to 9/11 my day right off the bat!

 I know it maybe difficult to picture me as a caring, sensitive person if you regularly read my blog, but I really am and I have a soft spot for children and animals.  It's bad enough that when I actually do sit down and watch TV, Sarah McLachlan is guilting me into giving money to or adopting another pet by showing pictures of these sad, yet cute dogs and cats in shelters with a sad Sarah song playing in the background, now I have to see these images on my Facebook page.  I don't want to see that shit...period.

Do you really think that for every "Like" the fly-by-night organization is going to donate $1 and for every "comment" the subject will be cured?  Then you get the guilt trip (thanks McLachlan) that if you scroll past this picture and story you hate your grandma, want your mom to be raped by a gorilla or your dog will die.  No, I love my deceased grandma, I really do feel bad for the animal beaten in the picture and as a Dad of three Minions, it tugs on my heartstrings to see a suffering child, but here are the two main issues I have:

1.  If I was to "Like" or "Comment" on a picture, my phone, iPad and Facebook feed fills up with notifications that other people "Commented" or "Liked" the same post. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm sure I can change settings for this but I don't have time to dive into the bowels of Facebook)

2.  I already give time and  money to various other causes and foundations.  If I was to donate more money, my kids would be the ones in the picture eating a moldy piece of bread and believe it or not, there are only so many hours in a day, the last time I checked it was 24 and most people spend 16 hours combined working and sleeping, so it would be impossible for me to spend more time helping out.

Now, before you call me heartless and mean, think about who is really heartless or mean.  Who took the pictures of the starving children living on the streets of Chicago?  Who took the pictures of the cat that has broken legs and was beaten by some asshole?  Who took the picture of the baby with the alien sized head?  Maybe those people should put the cameras down, sell them and then donate the money to these causes.  You're standing there taking these pictures, go to the local grocery store, drop $20 and give the starving kid a few meals.  This especially goes for the "action" photographers, catching the act live.  What the hell man?  Drop the camera and go kick that dude's ass for beating that dog or even better call the police...dumbass.

I'm all for promoting your cause, withing reason, if you're promoting something like it should be alright to marry your sister or fuck a goat, stop what you're doing, walk out into the middle of the highway and let a tractor trailer hit you BUT if you want to bring awareness to our planet, how pitbulls are treated badly or to help a child with cancer, I'm all for that.  Let it be known...without the fucked up pictures.

One of the foundations I support regularly is the Jimmy Fund, they do telethons and radiothons and show the kids but they don't show the REALLY bad pictures, people get the idea when they see a young girl wearing a Red Sox bandana because she lost all of her hair from chemo and are more inclined to help out.


Back to my original point, 95% of people use Facebook for a source of entertainment and to take a little break from reality and we would more likely "Like" your cause if you showed us a picture of something good that happened to that child or pet.  Tell us what your cause did for these subjects, tell us how Billy survived and Bosco is able to walk again but please stop with the pictures.

See?  I would be more inclined to donate by seeing this picture....

Yar, Me Matey!

Avast, 'tis Talk Like A Pirate Day, 'round these parts an' me an' a few others want'd to spread th' word.  Bein' a pirate 'tis a great thing, no one tells ye what to do.  Ye are ye own man.  Th' only thing better than bein' a pirate is bein' a Jedi.

Although, there already be pirates in Star Wars, Capn' Solo was thought to be a pirate.

The skalliewags shoulda made lil' R2 be a pirate....

Albeit, bein' a pirate does sound might fun.  Ye get to be in pirate songs....

Yar, those be lookin' like fun times to me.  I would love ta be in a music video, I even looks like the yeller buc'neer with th' missin' tooth.  'Nother thing 'bout bein' a pirate, ye get movies made of you an' even get barnacles like Johnny Depp ta play ye in th' movie.

In th' movie, ye get ta havn' a big ship...

An', ye be gettin' the wenches...

Me thinks these two ate th' wenches...

They ev'n bein' makin' cartoons an' toys about ye...

So, what'n I be sayin' is, today be International Talk Like A Pirate Day, so ye need to man up and start talkin' like ye be on th' seven seas.  Ta, leave ye off, I be providin' ye with some pirate laughs, enjoy!  Yarrr.

What ratin' did the new pirate movie have?  Rated Arrrrrrrrrr.

A pirate walks into a bar with a paper towel on his head, sits down and orders a dirty rum.  The barkeep asks why is he wearing the paper towel.... "Arrr, I've got a bounty on me head."

What's a horny pirate's worst nightmare?  A sunken chest with no booty.

What does a dyslexic pirate say?  Rrrrrrra!

How much dos it cost for a pirate to get his ears pierced?  A buccaneer.

Where did the one legged pirate go for breakfast?  IHOP

And last but not least...

A pirate enters a bar and walks up to the bar.  He has an eye patch, hook for a hand, a peg leg and a giant ship steering wheel for a belt buckle.  The bartender pours him a shot of whiskey and asks,

"What happened to your eye?

"Arrr, it be terrible, I was in a sword fight and the skalliewag stabbed me eye out."

The bartender pours another shot and asks, "What about your hand?"

"Arrr, same battle.  One o' his crew snuck up behind me and sliced it off."

One more shot gets poured, "What happened to your leg?"

"Arrr, I be out ta sea an' there be a cannonball fight, a ball took me leg clean off."

The bartender pours one more shot on the house and finally asks, "What the hell is up with the ship steering wheel for a belt buckle?"

"Arrrr, it be drivin' me nuts."

A Sticky Situation

 $30 million dollars of maple syrup was stolen in Quebec a few days ago.  I will repeat that, $30 MILLION dollars for MAPLE SYRUP was stolen in Quebec.  How does one steal $30 million dollars worth of syrup?

Those crazy Canadians find themselves in quite the sticky situation, besides leaving a cavity sized whole in the syrup supply, and trying to catch the sticky fingered criminals (OK, enough puns), Canada supplies almost 80% of the world's maple syrup and 75% of it goes to us, the Americans.  Canada is the Saudi Arabia of the sugary goodness, holding the cards on the syrup reserve of the world.  There is even a Federation of Quebec Maple Syrup Producers, which is responsible for the global strategic maple syrup reserve, so they take this shit very seriously.  It's kind of like the Jedi Council of maple syrup.

***We interrupt your regularly scheduled blog for an after school special***

Let me give you a little lesson on maple syrup because there are two things I know too much about, Scrappy Doo and making maple syrup.  I was raised making maple syrup and believe you me, it's not an easy task.  You live and die by meteorologists, it needs to be perfect weather for a good season.  Mother Nature needs to bless you with below freezing at night and well above freezing during the day.  It takes forty gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup.  What?  Did you think that the trees just produced the syrup?  Dumbass.  The sap then needs to be boiled down to evaporate the water in a device called an evaporator (clever huh?) and it needs to be watched, tested and watched some more throughout the whole process.  Once the sap hits that amber nectar stage, it's ready to be drawn off and canned or bottled.  The you sell the amber nectar for a ton of money because people will buy it.  That is Maple Syrup 101; the Cliff Notes.

***We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog, thank you.***

At first I pictured something like Fort Knox or Gringotts Bank from Harry Potter, but instead of armed guards or goblins with magic guarding it, there are a few Dudley Do Right Mounties keeping watch.  Instead, I was disappointed to learn that in reality it is a small warehouse, one of many and is only protected by a fence and locks with regular checks.   Despite this being a major blow to the Canadian economy and possibly increasing the cost of REAL maple syrup (not the Mrs. Butterworth crap) this is a pretty fucking funny story.  The officials seem so nonchalant about the whole situation, the people interviewed are blase and reading the stories you wouldn't think that the thieves made off with ten million pounds or 15,000 barrels of syrup but rather more like a couple of quarts off the shelves from the local super market.

 Another funny aspect to this story is the small warehouse is located in a very small town called Saint-Louis-de-Blandford, which boasts 903 residents and they are more focused on the local cranberry harvests.  The question still remains, how did 15,000 barrels of maple syrup disappear?  This had to take some sort of intel and planning like the Italian Job...wait!  That's it!  That's how they stole the syrup!

Picture it, its a calm summer's night in Saint-Louis-de-Blanford, all 903 citizens are safe and sound in their comfy beds, dreaming of cranberries and tractors (right Ken?).  Off in the distance a wolf howls, almost warning the people of the impending doom.  Off in a field there stands a small clapboard barn surrounded by barbed wire and a few dimly lit light poles.  A lone man dressed in red patrols the establishment and keeps a watchful, crossed eye out for any trouble.

By dark of night or light of day, no one will get past me, no way, eh.

Meanwhile, just a few meters (or feet to us) away the plot begins to thicken.  A group of sinister thieves have gathered, their mission...to pull off the greatest Maple Syrup Heist ever!  They even have an elaborate plan...

I don't know if we can do this eh, look at the two rows of barbed wire.

 

Hey boss!  We have wire cutters! We can cut the wires.

OK, listen up, here's the plan, you two morons will cut the fence...

Us?

No you idiots, the other two morons who bought wire cutters.  They will cut the fence and you will sneak in all quiet like because you will be wrapped in duct tape to muffle any sounds.  Once in, you will sneak past the guard and quickly roll out 15,000 barrels of maple syrup and onto the waiting truck driven by a girl.

 Hey!  I'm not a girl!

The villainous villains successfully sneak past the guard and roll 15,000 barrels of maple syrup out of the barn and into the girl's truck.  They drive off into the night never to be heard from again.  Then dawn rises and the guard realizes his mistake.

Holy Molson beer!  The door is ajar, I need to call the president of the FPAQ, or Federation of Quebec Maple Syrup, he'll know what to do!

Jumping moose!  What do you mean all of the syrup was stolen?  We shouldn't call it stolen, we will say it went missing.  We better not tell anyone about this either, just to make sure the police can do their job.

What do you think will happen to the missing syrup sir?

Chances are it will end up on the black market down in Florida and we won't be able to trace it.

So, keep an eye out for a surge of sweet stuff down South and like the President of FPAQ says, unlike laundered money maple syrup doesn't come with a serial number and it will end up like the other food that ended up missing  in Canada like "a football field's worth of potatoes", 3,600 kilograms of honey, 6,000 cattle and 72,000 kilograms of chicken.

You just can't make this shit up....

***If anyone feels I was being stereotypical against Canadians, I apologize...I apologize you don't have a sense of humor!