Chick Flick Pain

It's Saturday during a three day weekend.   That's probably my favorite day plus I have no crisis to attend to, or immediate obligation.
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So I think I'll sit on this couch for awhile and watch Saturday morning cable fishing shows.   And when they are over, I'll probably sit and watch something else.
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Unless Joanne starts to watch Chick Flick shows on the Women's Channel.
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Then I'll do something better, like twist a high speed drill bit into my forehead.
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That would actually be less painful than another day of Chick Flicks.
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Don't get me wrong.   I have my feminine side.... but I think that my feminine side is kind of a slut.
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It would be great if they showed porn once in awhile on the Women's Channel.

Tommy O is In.

Tommy O just came across the street and announced that he is in to lose 52 lbs. this year as well.
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Good Luck Big Guy.
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We'll track your progress.

Pisc said...


Who is we? The august we? You sound like some French King with the we shit, or Brian Williams.

Keep it real.



Maria Rowen said...

With my degree in Nutrition, I feel confident in making a couple of dietary recommendations: Surrender the Sara Lee and grab some grapes. Saute spinach in stock, and grill a nice filet of fish...but...skip the tuna. It's oily and full of mercury.

Big Guy

I hate it when somebody calls me “Big Guy”.    And everybody thinks that it is cool to do so.   Waiters in restaurants, friends, family…. It doesn’t matter.
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But when they call me “Big Guy”,   there is no way that they are referring to my just barely six foot  height.  They were referring to my 257 lbs. of body mass.   Some muscle and bone, but a significant part of it is flabby fat that has no place on the body of a Mountain of a Man like myself.
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I’ve always had this internal picture of myself as “Rough, Touch, Hard to Bluff and Damn Good Looking”.  In reality though, I was a “Big Guy” aka “Fat Shit”.
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So every time someone says “Thanks, Big Guy” or “See you later, Big Guy”, I know that they are really saying  “Thanks, Fat Shit”.
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In High School and College, I was on the Cross Country and Track teams running long distance, and I ran the Boston Marathon when I was 18 years old.  I weighed in the 150 lb. range, depending upon the level of training at the time.   Granted, I didn’t feel comfortable at that weight.   The bones in my buttocks actually bothered me when I sat on a wooden stool.
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Over 100lbs and 30 odd years later, I don’t have that problem on a bar stool.
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But I hate it when the bartender says, “What can I get you, Big Guy?”.
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This year, I'm going to lose 60 lbs and get below 200 lbs again.   And I'm going to write a book entitled  "Don't Call Me Fat Shit." or something like that.

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That is my New Year's Resolution.



Harvey Rowe said...

Good luck Big Guy on the resolution.However remember if you keep doing the same things and they never work you are bordering on"crazy acts".....I am willing to share my "DAPPER PLAN " with you......but trust me it will not be easy.....Let me know.


Thanks Harvey.
I agree that my selves are all stocked up on "crazy", but I'll have to pass on the "DAPPER PLAN".  I'm frankly too scared to ask what that plan is.

Nanepashemet Peep of the Year - 2010

When you look at the history of  this pathetic yet honorable designation....

Tom McMahon 2007
Michael "Murph" Murphy 2008
Lauren Rathbone 2009

.... there really isn't a discernible pattern.    But all three have their strengths and weaknesses, and they all survived their year of glory/ridicule.

So today, the momentous decision arises again.
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There was a huge pack of candidates to choose from this year.  You know yourself how many annoying and/or inspirational things you did this year.  So do I.
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I let my guard down earlier this week and joked with SuperPeep Lindsey Kepnes that she was under consideration.  Sorry Lindsey.   And my sister-in-law Sue Sue Raiche made a last minute run at it this morning to no avail.  No such luck Sue Sue.  And how could Tuna Lips Antagonist Maria Rowen be ignored.... or the perennial also-ran, SuperPeep Brian Butler???    Both came up short.  There's always next year.
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Even with all of the worthy candidates during a year that was itself, annoying and inspirational, one Peep emerged above all others.   Peep Protocol demands that there can be no explanation for the choice, and I will abide by this sacrosanct tenet, but those of you who know Jeremy and what he did this year can easily figure it out.
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ANNOUNCING ......

Nanepashemet Peep of the Year 2010

Jeremy Johnson

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Good luck this year Jeremy.  Shortly you will feel the almost mystical power that this honor/disgrace entails.  May you reign with all of  humility and arrogance that your title bestows upon you in the coming year.

Maria Rowen said...


Peak-Peep-Perfomance-Prevails for Jeremy! Congratulations and enjoy the honor and disgrace...364 days, 9 hours, 31 minutes and counting...

Jeremy Johnson, Reigning PEEP OF THE YEAR said....
Wow, I'm honored. The POTY powers are no joke – I woke up this morning with a Chuck Norris-style beard. And to think I had given up years ago on this lifelong dream. What’s next? I don’t know, but obviously the sky’s the limit. I’m just taking it one day at a time, looking forward with great anticipation to a year of reaping the vast bounty of goodwill, good luck, and great facial hair growth that accompanies this honorable designation. I promise all of the NPash Peeps that I'll keep it real -- my reign will be marked by benevolence, bipartisanship, and some old school trickle-down economics. 2009 was indeed a trying year but I realized how fiercely loyal, thoughtful and downright badass all of you peeps are. Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no. 2010 will indeed be a better year -- 2012 will be outstanding.

Setting the Stage

New Year's Eve Day.
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A couple of end of year tasks, a lunch with some Peeps, and that's it.
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Tomorrow we will unveil the Nanepashemet Peep of the Year for 2010.
Don't get your hopes up.
It's not going to be you.

Maria Rowen said...

Me and the Mayans are hoping to celebrate 2010...*_*

Decade of Terror

It dawns on me as this decade closes that it was the decade of terror.
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Having won the Cold War in the 90's, we were supposed to be enjoying a peace dividend.   With vast military superiority, we were set to become the benevolent police force in the world.
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Instead, the freaking Crusades started up again.   Stuff that was supposed to have ended 1,000 years ago raised its ugly head.   Where before, we were worried about the Russians destroying our country, and could focus our military against theirs.... now we have to be alert to every insane Muslim zealot who wishes to kill himself in order to gain a cushy, sex-filled spot in the afterlife.
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Sorry, but I think I'd rather have the Russians.  At least they pointed the gun right at you, and muscled up against our military.   These Middle Eastern nutcases choose to send human bombs  to kill non-combatants in public forums.  And there is no way to negotiate with them.  They just want us dead.
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I feel so bad for the vast majority of Muslims who are being painted with the same brush as this insane few. The bad feeling that can be generated against a God loving religion is the real victim of these attacks.
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BTW,  Happy New Year.

Security Measure

"A conservative is a liberal who has been mugged."  - Irving Kristol
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Unfortunately we have been getting mugged lately by Islamic Jihadists who ascertain that they are going to God by killing and terrorizing innocent people.
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You would think that the key to security is checking the status of people when they buy their airline tickets, rather than shaking down every Grandmother and Girl Scout who tries to enter the terminal.
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So let's start profiling people big time.   Frisk the Swarthy looking Muslims who have been shooting people, lighting their feet on fire, and trying to explode their crotches.... after you've done a computer scan on their ticket.
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If the bombers were white, Irish, middle aged, chubby guys like me, then I wouldn't mind being frisked because of the profile. But that's not the case.  The perpetrators continue to be crazy eyed middle eastern zealots with bad fitting clothes.
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Run my name past a data base when I buy my ticket and code the ticket.  If I don't show up in a high risk, terrorist database, then leave me the hell alone,
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And don't even think about putting me in some x-ray machine that will let some minimum wage security guard check the size of my man tackle.

Map to Buffness

Not for Nothing, but...  I was just discussing with Joanne that if I lost 1 lb per week every week for the next year, I would lose over 50 lbs.  It seemed like a good sign when she didn't roll her eyes and actually listened.
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But, when you look at it that way, it doesn't seem unattainable at all.   I mean, calculate the calories that you can eat every day in order to lose 1 lb per week.  In my case, that is 2,237 calories. 
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Keep track of the calories with some food program  on your computer or IPOD that you eat every day,  burn 600+/- calories on the Cybex or the treadmill, and after one year.....you will be the rough, tough, hard to bluff, mountain of a man that is your true destiny.
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It almost seems too easy.   Even now, I'm holding out on that second glass of Scotch.
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I can hardly wait until next year.

Maria Rowen said...

Well you won’t get 72 virgins for your efforts but there is a reward. A jigger of that smokey stuff you like is about 73 calories. Some trade off...choose your path wisely...

Stupid Terrorists

Abdul Mutallab prepared to spend Christmas on a commercial flight by stuffing explosives in his underpants.  But apparently the fuse or something went wrong and he had a fire in his crotch but no explosion.
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That happens to a lot of us from time to time, but the difference is that we are not generally trying to kill ourselves and everyone around us when we experience the malfunction.
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If you've ever seen some of the morons at airlne security, you know that it's only a matter of time before some other whack job like Abdul sneaks a load in his undies and blows a plane to smithereens.  There is no way we can truly protect ourselves from the Ahdul types who are hell bent on exploding there privates and taking a airplane full down with them.
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Do you still get to have sex with the virgins if your genitals have been obliterated in your martyrdom?? Something to look up in the Koran, I suppose.
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Lucky for us that the Islamic suicidal terrorists are even stupider than the airline security workers, or we would really see some carnage.

POTY Process Planning

This is the last week of POTY reign for last year's Peep of the Year, Lauren Rathbone.
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By all accounts, she has had a good year.  No emotional outbursts, no scandals, no legal complications.... or at least none that we have knowledge of .
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And that in itself is an accomplishment.
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Being a POTY is no easy task, what with all of the public scrutiny and stuff.   It's not for everybody, and Lauren proved to be worthy of her title.   We will expect that she will make her closing remarks sometime this week as did her predecessors, Tommy McMahon,  and Michael "Murph" Murphy.
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But now it's time to look to the future... to select another who can carry the mantle forward, who can be a symbol for annoyance, irritation and/or inspiration for all of us.
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I do have some POTY candidates in mind.  Naturally the usual suspects...Mountain of a Man Bobby Brown, SuperPeep Brian Butler, Tuna Lips Antagonist Maria Rowen, Archrival Joe Collins, and Patrick "Pisc" Piscatelli come to mind almost instantly.  But there are significant others
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And the selection criteria hasn't changed.   Like the Peep of the Week, the POTY must meet the following standards.

1. He/She must have done something Annoying or Inspirational over the past year.
2. Can't be Dead.
3. Can't be an Animal.
4. OR..... (and this is an automatic "out of my hands" choice) must have bought me a CASE of Lagavulin before the crucial selection.

You may make as many suggestions or nominations as you like, but I doubt that I would consider anything that you say.  And you can never ask why the selection is made.  That is Taboo, Verboten, and Just Freaking Wrong.

Tuna Lips said...

That there Rowen lass ain't nothin without ole TL to spark her imaginin'. Ise deserves a piece o' the pie. Slim pickin's otherwise, mixed bag of immigant lay abouts and horse theeves. 

Maria Rowen said...

May the best wo(man) win the coveted POTY. Today however, the POTTY goes to the Trini-Lopez-looking,carbon-based-life-form seen fleeing a local ladies room. Even the horse thieves are not safe...

Long Haul Motivation

I haven't formulated any of my New Year's Resolutions yet.... which is always a hapless task, prone to failure and dissapointment.   But that doesn't mean I'm going to give up.
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Naturally, one of my resolutions will be to lose weight and get in shape. as I have resolved for the last 20/30 years or so.
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So why should this year be any different?  Actually there is a chance this year because of a number of divergent forces.   There are Katelyn and Lisa Rowe who are always nagging me about the last time I worked out... or... asking, "Did you workout today?"
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That type of irritation is definitely a reason to be able to respond something like "Yeah, I did five miles easy." or something like that.... but that only works if you actually did the mileage.
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Then there is Lisa's bionic husband, Harvey, who will still be training for triathons when he is a hundred and four or so.   Just looking at him makes me pissed off that I'm not in shape.  
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Also there is our guy at FreshAyer who does a minimum of 500 pushups a day, five miles on the track, and God knows how may situps.... and he looks damn buff because of it.   Course he has the time to do it, and I certainly hope that I never have that type of time.   But he still is inspirational in taking the opportunity to invest his spare time in health and strength pursuits.
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So there is definitely cause for motivation.  I just did 9+ miles on the Cybex, and felt pretty bad doing it.
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This will be a long haul.

Maria Rowen said...

Peep – Perfection – Pressure…it’s always there… beside, behind, below, between and in the face of every scoop, scallop and scone… I admire those with the will and the way… and will face next year with optimism and determination to make it better than the one before!

Tuna Lips said...

Ise tell you about pressin needs. I liberated a shrimp po' boy from the day old table at the Piggly Wiggly, myself runnin' on a three day drunk. Short time thereafter, I had ta wills my way into the facility at the Old Dixie Shoppin' Center, after I sharted an image of the dolly lama in my fruit o' the looms. After evacuatin' my guts of that rancid grist (I haves a rite mind to soo them heartless profiteers), comes to find I was in the ladies room. Some dyke mall cop look like Linda Trip chased me outta there with tissue streamin' from my trousers and a gaggle of hens slingin' whatever they could get they hands on. Come to learn the haz mat folks was called in. All on account of a day old sammich.

 

No Obligation

It's nice when the day after Christmas falls on a Saturday.  Because the Day after Christmas is a day for doing nothing.... or at least, not anything that you are normally obligated to do.  Kate went with us out to FreshAyer for our visit, then we had lunch at the Boston Yacht Club.   It was an interesting contrast.  Both were enjoyable in such different ways.

Tuna Lips said...


Sounds like yer going gay, Not that there is nutting wrong with that, Ise specatates.