Having a spooky honker, I am capable of smelling many items no other person the age of thirty nine can detect.  I’m also close to being legally blind so my nostrils must do the walking.

Cat Box:  Disgusting, but easy

Dog Poop Patrol: I smell better with my nose and walk more efficiently in my sleep doing that crap

Receipts:  They smell sort of strange, but I have a keen sense of getting screwed, so I am capable of discussing the manner with any banker

Clean cut grass:  I search the world for this stuff because mowing grass smells like something I haven’t had to  do for a long time.

A Baseball Glove:  There’s nothing like the smell of leather which requires molding, shaping, placing beneath your bed, allowing it to marinate in the bathtub, (with epson salts of course) or dousing it with oil.

Napalm:  I’m stealing this from a famous movie, but I’ve heard there is no better smell.  I beg to differ.  My father, fighting in the Korean War, did not find the smell so warming, since he was hit by a patch of it.

A Post Office:  Most humans don’t believe they exist; Completely obsolete.  Today, I found one and I could smell the twenty dollars they required so my mother could receive my letter in time for Mother’s Day.  My sense of smell cost me an hour in line, some profanity and a parking ticket……….my mother is worth it.

Speaking and smelling of fathers, let’s talk about Mothers instead.  They smell of peace, tranquility, laughter, honesty and flowers you forget to purchase them on that sacred Mother’s Day.

I love my mom, just like all of you do your own.  She smells better, sees better, hears better (depending on her batteries) and loves better than anyone I know.

Hopefully, you feel and smell the same about your mom as I do.

Literature carries a dynamic following.  I love reading, but I just can’t handle people quoting established authors these days.  It doesn’t make me feel inferior; it’s just simply not inspiring to me and a tad annoying.  Shakespeare is too confusing, Chaucer once made me throw up, and Emily Dickenson died in an attic before being recognized by many as one of the world’s most prolific and uplifting poets.  She once wrote, “My life is a loaded gun.”  That really motivated me to show up to poetry class the next day when I didn’t have a car, there was a Washington State University, “Thank God there’s a Snowstorm” day, and I didn’t own a gun.  My professor, who required us students to write a ten page essay analyzing a three line poem may have had several caps popped in her behind if God didn’t create that storm.  God was a bit worried about her English teaching welfare.  She canceled class that day.

Quotes are actually great if they do inspire you to quit something.  Mark Twain was a pretty sharp guy when he said something like, “Golf is a terrific way to ruin a nice walk.”  That’s probably a misquote, but it saved me a ton of money, and being forced to purchase collared shirts I don’t feel should be required for walking on grass and utilizing incessant profanity.  I’m so glad my beloved mother never went golfing with me.  She would have been mortified to hear my F bombs explode and echo throughout the county.

Seriously, I do enjoy quotes from the Holy Bible.  They have honestly inspired me to try to live a better and more productive life.  It’s been awhile since I’ve attended Mass, but I know there were some great lines in that Book.  Other than the burning in Hell parts, Sunday Mass always made my Sunday waffles taste that much better.

I have a few quotes of my own, perhaps influenced by 15 years of teaching 11, 12 and 13 year youngs.  I hope they don’t offend you, or maybe I do, because it’s reality.

(These are in no order of importance and some of these are from pedestrians I have conversed with in bars)

“There is such a thing as a stupid question.”  I’ve asked a thousand of them and been on the receiving end of a thousand of them.

“In an interview, never bring your flask.”

“When teaching a class, play as many favorites as you deem necessary….that way, the unfavorites may eventually learn that the ones showing up on time, turning in their assignments and showing respect for peers and authority figures eventually pays off in life.”

“Never spray Formula 409 on your husband’s BLT.  He will divorce you.”

“Count all your chickens before they’re hatched.  It may save you a lot of money and a 13th child.”

“Don’t ever begin a paper with, Hello, my name is Russ, and I hope I get an A on this paper.”  This will result in your teacher not reading the remainder of your paper and giving you an F.

“Don’t ever conclude a paper with, I hoped you liked my paper, please give me a good grade”……because your teacher won’t make it to the end of your paper.  He’s at a bar talking to others about the frustrations of teaching.

“Do be creative.  If a teacher assigns an assignment pertaining to the solar system, and you have to write about a specific planet and how you could convince others to vacation on that planet, write something as follows……..What happens in Uranus, stays in Uranus.  That’s an automatic A+.”  This actually happened to one of my dear friends.

“Praying internally is a magnificent ritual, especially if it’s for others or a passing grade.  Praying out loud sometimes makes people think you are crazy and potentially results with you losing friends, family members and football fans.”

“A wise man once said, offend as many as you can.  That way you don’t have to call or text too many people.”  (I think I just offended  a few friends and members of my family with the praying quote.  That will save me a few birthday greetings)

“Your mother is usually right, and your father usually smokes………………crack.”

“A Christmas Tree is a beautiful thing to waste money on…….much like the Super Bowl.  A brain is overrated, much like Christmas Trees and Super Bowls.”

“Pray in the Masses and for the masses; we all need it.  Amen.”

I almost forgot: “When drinking, always call the one you love.  They really appreciate that at 2 in the morning.”

I’m not referring to drugs, rather the lady bug crawling up our window maybe 40 feet or so with no ladder, no strings attached and no firefighters willing to catch this girl with a gigantic balloon.  I hope she’s cleaning out our gutters.  She is far more brave than me.

Halloween can sometimes be tricky. That’s a horrible and non punny introduction.  However, today I was researching treats people may hand out on this sacred day recognizing ghosts, goblins, murderers, the devil, dash in a sprinkle of a child dressed as a nice hobo or perhaps a pirate who kindly pillages and plunders, a broom flying witch (no, I am not referring to my former principal) and a guy dressing up as Steve.  He is my Irish brother.

Sleepy Hallow was about a legend known as “The Headless Horseman”.  My brother, Steve, is about a legend known as Steve.  Legend has it, and I confirmed it earlier this morning, he did something absolutely deplorable and despicable one Halloween evening while living alone in his house 30 some odd years ago.

This is not for the faint of heart, so look away or run away if you are a bit squeamish.  My brother, Steve, is a bit of a health nut.  He enjoys an occasional beer, but candy really isn’t his cup of cavity.  Therefore, while living in his humble rock house, he thought  giving out raw potatoes providing nutrients to children would be far more important than providing candy corn and apples riddled with razor blades.  That part is true.  This next legendary part I’m hoping is true.  One of those raw potatoes went flying and crashing through one of his windows that Halloween night, thus costing him more than a bag of Barber Shop Bubble Gum.  Who knows?  The culprit could possibly have  been one of his younger brothers.

Tonight, I am dressing up as Steve.  That will scare the Halloween out of everyone.  They won’t be getting potatoes, but, much like Steve, they will receive a laugh, a smile, and sadly, a few cavities.

Have a safe evening and enjoy the fun memories of Halloween.  …….(unless you are a boyfriend who doesn’t enjoy watching his girlfriend dressing up as a prostitute).

Witnessing great baseball games has been a theme for my baseblogs.  I will keep this short, weird and a bit confusing. Previously, I wrote about a World Series game my father and I watched 23 years ago, not necessarily changing my life, but for one evening, definitely providing a bunch of fun.

Game 6 of the World Series ended last night in the bottom of the 11th inning on a walk off home run by St. Louis Cardinal David Freese.  The St. Louis Cardinals were not the team my wife and I were hoping to win.  As very spiritual people, we were praying for them to lose.  As most common people know, God, Jesus, Bud-ah, Beelzebub, and Mormon Young watch all of these ballgames, even on Sunday.  They were all partying last night because of the fun it provided for so many people.

The home run leads the two teams to game seven of the series and my wife and I are rooting for the Texas Rangers.  My gambling background believes I irritated the Baseball Gods by thinking the Rangers had it won in the 9th inning of the game last night.  To all the gamblers betting on the Rangers that evening, I hold full responsibility for saying, “This game is over”.  I was already eating a bratwurst while celebrating before what I thought was to be the last pitch dictating the outcome of the game.  For St. Louis Cardinal fans…….you’re welcome.

Other than wanting and trying to believe in Sasquatch, UFO’s and other ridiculous supernatural phenomenons, after watching Game 6 of The World Series last night with my wife,I had to question my insanity. During the game, we believed the stars were colliding and weird things were happening.  I guess you could refer to it as a moment of Baseball Clarity.  At the end of the game, my thought was, “Are you World Serious?”  If the well respected Bill Shatner would have been present in our living room, he would have said something profound like, “We have gone where no team has gone before.”  That’s a little dramatic, but for a goofball like me, that’s how goofy I was last night.

For stars colliding, convening, and sometimes convincing, the Cardinals have some strange Karma I don’t want to believe.  It’s much like not wanting to believe in ghosts.  No thank you.  Will you go to some other house?  You scare me.  I’m not betting on the Cardinals to lose because they scare me.  (That, and our stock has decreased significantly over the last couple of days)

Last night’s game was arguably one of the greatest World Series games in history.  Tonight’s game may be anticlimactic.  Who knows?  As a baseball observer for many years, it has been the most interesting and fun post season I’ve ever witnessed.

When I wrote about another wonderful World Series game occurring 23 years ago, the home run hero was wearing the number 23.  Last night’s hero was wearing number 23. Twenty three years ago, Tony Larussa, was the opposing manager to the man crushing the game winning home run, thus crushing the team’s spirits so many years ago.  Tony Larussa is now the manager of The St. Louis Cardinals who is defying many odds and strikes.

I really hope Texas wins tonight, and I think they should, but strange things happen in this wacky world.  My gambling money will remain in my pocket this evening.

By the way, I’ve never bet on baseball.  I just wildly enjoy the sport.  Just ask my wife.

Watch Game 7.

Ben

So I was sitting around drinking breast milk the other day and I thought to myself, at 24 years old, this may be a bit too old to drink breast milk.  I am a Master Jedi when it comes to doing stupid things.  Allow me to explain.

My mother-in-law, sister-in-law, including her fascinating infant, were in town over last week and we had a magical few days together. Britt’s nephew, who we shall refer to as Ty Bone, a six month old dynamo, became a bit fussy about eating. Ty Bone required a bit of coaxing to finish his breakfast one morning. Remembering the days of my brother, Steve, eating dog food from our mother’s kitchen, I decided to take over, thinking Gerber’s Cream of Wheat couldn’t be that awful. Evidently,when children, which I have none of, see an imbecile eating something, they tend to throw down their arms and eat it too.  Ty Bone needed to eat.  While being a Great Uncle, I showed this beautiful young boy how to eat. After sampling Ty Bones brunch, there was a tang I couldn’t quite identify.  It turns out that “Gerber’s Cream of Wheat” was actually cream of  boob.  I didn’t know mothers placed breast milk in baby food.  As a simpleton, I only thought babies drank the stuff in closed doors, or solitary confinement.

Trish, my sister-in- law, was extremely kind and funny when she said, “Do you know what you just ate?”  I told her I ate some Gerber’s food to persuade your son to eat.  She then told me what additional garnishes were sprinkled in the food.  I then excused myself to the nearest bathroom.

Not only embarrassed, accidentally drinking breast milk for the second time, I felt horrible for Trish’s husband, currently fighting for us overseas, not being the first adult to try it out.  Sorry, Nick.

As a male married with no children, I was forced to further research this important subject.  When I do research, I text, tweet, or rotary dial certain qualified individuals possibly possessing more knowledge about profound subjects.  The responses were astonishing.  I did not know this was a common occurrence for mankind.  I will again change names to protect the disgusting fathers and husbands.

Pat:  Oh yeah, I tried it.  It was a little thick, but I drink whole milk, and her’s is a lot cheaper.

Chris: I need it before I go to sleep at night.  (he is thirty years old)

Ben:  I am going to stick with Lucerne Skim Milk.

Ty Bone:  Just give me a boob and I’m fine.  Don’t give me any of that Gerber crap.

I am so glad I don’t remember my days as an infant.