We all know Dolly Parton for her lovely voice

Before we get started here this post contains breast and breast related material, avert your gaze if offended.
If you are the type who hovers over the pulpit or are one that sits a mere stones throw from that pulpit and vehemently shakes ones head in agreement at the ramblings of that pulpit dweller, then you may want to leave now.
If not then enjoy.





 















Caught ya looking !!!!

what color are their eyes? or  who'd ya rather?

Not to be a connoisseur of the obvious here but men like breasts!
 Any junior ad man will tell you 'Sex sells' and with my opening line and picture I am sure I have your full attention, men please keep both hands on the keyboard at all times.

Breasts are nice, in fact they are downright awesome. They are responsible for our early sustenance and are accountable for the thrusting of many careers, they even got me through 10th grade English.

Thank you Ms. McCulley for the daily testing of your blouses thread count
and for forcing your buttons to maximize their potential.

The problem with breasts is that even when covered with 3 plus layers of wool or flannel men are still trying to get a peek. Now I am in no way at the defense of perverts here, just the counsel for the defendant know as Regular Joe sometimes called by his nick name -

Joe Average.

Now Joe is subverted to many an ad whether it be on the page or the plasma, and in said ads there is usually a hook (Not a hooker) to catch poor Joe and his wandering attention. Many of these hooks are breast heavy lassies with lustful gazes affixed upon their underfed bods calling  poor Joe with a come hither or come on up and see me sometime demeanor.

Like the ad below for fries or chips if on the east side of the Atlantic, Joe must realize that the local fast food vendor will not be dressed as such while Joe readies his order. In fact having been raised in chip shops and fast food joints, never in the history of any cuisine has anyone serving up fried anything looked like the below top heavy model. A complaint to the manager will be forthright.

Hey Joe wanna a fry? then fry in Hell

So when poor old Joe takes a southerly gaze upon a co-worker he is performing a perfunctory duty of all men to take a look at the (Insert favorite breast name here) Not knowing that the advertisements he is the target of are not real.  Silly Joe, Silly Joe. 

So gentlemen, even if the (Insert favorite breast name here) are pushed up and propped out or even adorned with a jewel encrusted bodice, keep your dirty little peepers northward. I know how hard this can be for many a Joe not to let the neck fall down and have a quick and speedy jaunt at the (Insert favorite breast name here) but alas, no matter how fast Joe bobs that simple noggin of his the owner of said (Insert favorite breast name here) will catch Joe in the act and Joe could end up the owner of a red face or even the bad half of a legal document. 

  In case you are wondering how such a nipply topic was raised then let me be the first one on the witness stand.

Your old pal Sausage Fingers was just 'busted' while gauging the sweater puppets
(My favorite and so very naughty name) of a not so amused female.

Yours truly came forward and bled his little heart and soul out to the missus and was forgiven on the fact that the one they call the Sausage is merely a Regular Joe.

One who now wears a neck brace when forced with the exigent task of keeping his eyes up and his morality pure. At least until the next time....

Silly Joe they are not even real

 Here is further proof the even some of the most talented of our time are Regular Joes.

Even on the red carpet. Bad Stanley, bad Stanley

Ok, we all now this guy to be a perv.

Yo Quiero salt, chili pepper, onion powder, tomato powder, oats, soy lectithin, sugar, soybean oil, garlic powder, yeast extract, citric acid and cocoa powder.

Have you ever been 3 cars deep at the Taco Bell drive-through and wondered

'What's in that delicious beef'

Me either so the resulting lawsuit from the Montgomery law firm is frivolous at best. The suit claims that when Taco Bell thins their meat by adding fillers, it gives them a competitive advantage over other chains. Really, doesn't the fact that TB only has four basic ingredients and have managed a belly blitz on the U.S. by selling that cheap meat with lettuce, sour cream and cheese and changing the name from Gordita to Chalupa?

Does this mean that we have an abundance of lawyers with legs dangling under mahogany desks, sitting proudly below their framed document from Stanford or Seminole County Night Law School dreaming up lawsuits?

Maybe the greatest course of action we should take is to not let any yahoo into law school just because he or she has the $85k loan and enough pencils to chew on. We have other more expedient issues to deal with
and the fact that Beasley, Allen, Crow, Methvin, Portis & Miles have enough time on their grubby little lawyer hand befuddles me completely.

Maybe I am harboring some ill will at the fact that I was rejected from Harvard Law way back in '86, or maybe it's just the fact that when three cars deep in the Taco Bell drive-through the last thing on my mind is  "I wonder what is in this delicious beef."

Maybe Someday Ruth's Chris Steakhouse will open a drive through and then we can rest easy knowing that while driving, eating and texting at the same time, at least the quality of dead cow will be high and hopefully just dead cow.

you may now kiss the bride and your order is ready.

Yes Sir, This Is The Minivan For You It Has A Built-In DVD Player

  In  my 20's  it was all about - Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll
   my  worries were - Is she single and where can I eat for $5 or less

In my 30's it was all about - Love, marriage, babies, career, minivan
 my worries were - better start a college fund and why am I driving a freaking minivan.

  In my 40's it's all about  - same as 30's with the added stress of having a preteen in the house  and the constant parade of preteen girls in front of the house, knowing what it was like to be a preteen boy and remembering what I wanted as a preteen boy. 

Also my wardrobe now consists of shit from Sears aka "Sensible dad attire"

The minivan is dead :)

I see older men walking about town some are balding and some have hanging bellies, one trait I notice about them is that the majority of them seem to be happy. Their physical appearance has come and gone like a ship in the night, no longer the cock of the walk or the king of the pride, their sexuality does not seem to be priority any more.


 From the time boys start ogling the fairer sex until the coffin lid closes seeking the adoration of women seems to be the paramount goal, not to say that us married men are out there poaching and chasing tail (except for Tiger and Favre) but we still see ourselves are viable sexual beings. But as we cosmically hurdle towards the middle ground do we loose that infinite desire to be attractive, are we more concerned with our short game and putting stroke or that our football team will be purchased by a Russian oligarch and given a blank check for next season?
(From my lips to God's ear) 
PS. Dear lord we need a striker and a goalie.


I suppose most older men are happily married and have raised their kids, some have a few coins put away for their retirement and seem to be glad to be over the mid life crisis. Understanding that the need to mate and populate has come and gone, now it's time for them to pass the wisdom on to the next generation of wide eyed lads.


I have quite a few years to go until I hit the half century but I have noticed the slowing down of the once athletic body, These are some of the recent signs:

 * No longer am I able to stay up past midnight murdering pints marinated
    in whisky and expect to function the next day.

*  Loosing to my 12 year old in a foot race. Yes I said 12 years old,
    he is as fast as Hermes.

 
* Not being able to sustain myself on pizza and accepting bran in my life, yum.

* Actually wanting to visit the doctor without the sharp prod of the wife. 

 
  I am sure that there are many more to come so for now I will keep on keeping on and do the best I can, at least I live in a country where the cost of health care and medicine is affordable. 

Oh shit.....
"Honey, pass me the bran..."

I gave your sister an extra hug today

Gary &  Kim, 2008

It has been three years since your passing,  three years of tears and rejuvenation.
Time goes by so damn fast  when a family member leaves as if
intentionally as a means to forget and start to heal.


Your soul was fresh and happy until the end when the pain
masked and sublimated into you,
the pain finally winning the battle over life and death.


You were one of those people that other people wanted to know,
you were the happiness bulb that brightened a room
a child in the body of a man with the soul of an angel.


Although not much of a street fighter, when laid flat out in a hospital bed
adorned with tubes and clamps and needles and drips, you were the toughest
scrapper I had ever met. You fought pain the way any father would fight for his family.

The middle of January every year for the past 13 years,  that's when the Jekyll Island job is due. We would all meet on the little Georgia Island to deliver the job and take in the sights and aura of the picturesque little port. The Island offered a timely break from the daily grind. Today I finished the Jekyll Island job and your sister and I thought of you much, remembering the times when we gallivanted around the Island like children on holiday without a care in the world.           

I gave your sister and extra hug today. 

Gary was my brother-in-law and died after a 14 year long battle with cancer,
he was an award winning graphic designer as well as an accomplished artist and cook.

He loved Jekyll Island. He is missed

Jekyll Island, Georgia aka driftwood beach

That glowing yellow orb in the sky - they call it the sun.

 As an unofficial spokesman for the Florida Department of Tourism, I am sending out warmth and rays to all of my frozen friends in the other 49 snow covered states. Don't get me wrong I do like a change of seasons but after spending the holidays up north, it is good to back in the state of the sun where we shovel sunshine on a daily basis.

I remember speaking to a young Mexican named Javier that was employed by the resort in Westbrook, Ct. He was shoveling snow and epitomized the "Fish out of water idea" He asked me "What's it like in Florida?"
My reply  "Javier, it does not suck."

I do hope you all defrost and someday make it down here where you can park your butt on a beach. We have over 700 miles of sand.
So grab a hot beverage block out the snow and ice for a few minutes and enjoy.
ps. The last video of  Clearwater Beach is the once of the best places to just soak it up.
Cheers, Sausage Fingers....

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself - and this skateboard

FEAR - also known as something I never had until now.
at 42 years old I just second guessed myself as I was about to step on the maniacal contraption brought to my youngest son by old saint nick himself, this ankle breaker is something that in the past I would have merrily carried to the top of  K-2 and shredded downhill while screaming yeeeeehaaawww mother lovers.
Something stopped me from even attempting to ride this from the garage to the mailbox, a mere 75 feet.

As the oldest of three knuckle headed boys, I and my bruvs have over the years perpetually challenged each other to do the wild and the crazy. As a group we have always sought the opposite of normal and try to find those abnormal experiences from our adventures. We have done the following without hesitation:

 When hiking the Jacks River trail in the Tennessee Smokey Mountains, we would follow the trail for about a mile then seek the gnarliest and deepest off the map route to hike, even though we coursed through brush so thick we would be cut and scarred for weeks. No problem.

 When snow skiing we would take the lift to the extreme top of the mountain, say hello to God then shred our way down off the marked trails through terrain better suited for mountain goats. No problem.

 Once in Atlanta, Ga. my middle brother and I rode and broke wild horses so raw that we wondered if we would ever father children, we both did. No problem.

 I myself have snorkeled with an open wound 100 yards offshore in shark infested waters here in Florida. No problem.

 Once in a Ft. Lauderdale bar I told a member of a biker gang  to "Go fuck himself" while his cohorts were in shouting distance. No problem.

This list could go on for days so to spare the prose and bullshit I will end it here.
The point is that I stopped myself dead in my tracks and actually thought about what I was doing, damn does that make me a member of the sensible middle aged majority?
Crap,  life comes fast and furious, my advice to anyone still wet behind the ears - GO FOR IT. before you know it you will have less hair and more common sense.

Panorama, BC. The top of the mountain. 1997

Jacks River, Tennessee Smoky Mountains. 1998

The Ripstick aka the plastic contraption that put the fear in me. 2011

              

Happy Birthday Chuck, the ribs are on the grill and the beer is on ice

This is a re-post from August of last year, it concerns the future of  Kennedy Space Center and the end of the shuttle program down here in Central Florida and the pending economic meltdown to come over 1100 more job cuts.   On a good note Charles "Chuck" Hayes now has a laptop, a generous gift from Sausage Fingers who Chuck happily let marry his daughter many moons ago.

This is the re-post
Technology rules our lives, we can't escape the domination it has over us. Every day we use gadgets and gizmo's such as GPS, smart phones, Satellite television and so on, and men like Charles Clifton Hayes are responsible for their use.

Charles Clifton Hayes aka "Chuck" was a NASA technician for the better part of forty years, if you ever saw the film The Right Stuff, then you should have an idea of the type of man that Chuck is. Chuck was involved with the original 7 astronaut program and worked on the Delta rockets that launched the satellites that now help busy parents and tech savvy kids get through the day.

Chuck is now in his seventies and the technology that he helped launch has passed him by, he does not own a cell phone or laptop, he has the most basic of cable and he struggles to understand the electronic toys of his grandchildren.
Chuck and his lunchbox worked countless hours out at the old Kennedy Space Center, his stories include the time he was asked to hire a midget who could bench press 100lbs. The pint sized employee had to be small enough to fit inside the cargo payload of a compartment while lifting 100lbs. of stuff. And just how much duct tape was actually used on the launched rockets would keep you up at night.

Chuck is a throwback to a time when America was the world's leader in technology and innovation, he has long retired but his blood, sweat and tears will ever be displayed at the Cape on launch pad 5.
I was not born in this country but the one thing I will always associate with America is the space program, I am not one to be labeled as an elephant or donkey, but I do hope that politics will not cause the demise of this great program. Many years ago Americans were glued to their televisions as heroes were hurdled into space not really knowing the danger or eventual outcome, these men and women of this program helped forge the nation into the giant it is today.

I want to thank Chuck Hayes, the Georgia farm boy, for his hard work and dedication to not only the United States but the world for the trail he helped blaze. Thank you for going to work every day so people like me can check my e-mail on my phone while getting directions on the GPS while on my way to buy a new plasma TV, and so on and so on.

Thanks Chuck, enjoy your retirement you deserve it.

Click on the picture for more detail, this is an original document.














See what technology does for humanity, this was invented by the space program. Cheers.

A Red Headed Scot In The Big Apple

Guess who made it back from the wintry wilderness know as  "Up North" Sausage and his family made it home to the State of the Sun with a lifetime of memories and a vow to return next Christmas.

The first tale to tell was that for 10 days were disconnected from the electronic world! we took 1 cell phone for any emergency, left the laptops and all of the other gizmo's that usually satiate our attention. Just the four of us with only our imagination to entertain.

The first part of the holiday was spent in Connecticut or what I will now refer to : The place where stuffy old white people reside, being a Caucasian did not make me feel any comfort in this somewhat puritanical throwback. I felt like a raiding viking when questioning the no alcohol sales on Sunday law and the no beer or wine in the grocery or gas stations edict.  Being one whose DNA is a wee bit tartan, I like a dram or three especially on holiday so the fact that I could not even buy a bottle of wine on Sunday night made me a bit jaded to say the least.

Part two - New York City ~ The Big Apple ~ Gotham City....

Creeping out of Grand Central Station felt like being a gladiator about to be thrown into the Colosseum not really knowing what is on the other side. The minute you step outside on 42nd street you are deep in it, life that is and life at full speed.

New York and her offerings were a ocular orgasm, around every corner another delight for the mind to wrap and fathom. The buildings, the noise, the smell and the people. At times I felt like pinching myself to see if I was awake or in the middle of some lucid dream while watching a NY sitcom.

In my mind New York displayed herself to be the true epicenter of the world, I believe I witnessed over 15 different languages and walked among people from the four corners of the globe all under the majestic roof of this great city. One thing is for sure is the we all fell in love with New York, she romanced us, took our money and left us wanting more. The holiday is already booked for next Christmas and once again the Sausages from Palm Coast Florida will be wined and dined by the lady with the torch.......

Lexington Ave. where we stayed and barely slept at all.