Image  —  Posted: October 27, 2016 in Maps

The Bombing of Kobe in World War II took place on March 16 and 17, 1945. It was part of the strategic bombing campaign waged by the United States against military and civilian targets and also population centers during the Japan home islands campaign in the closing stages of World War II. On a related note, that’s a whole lotta bombs.


Pure comedy.


Back at ya brother.


That’s insane, man.


Man, that’s a rocket.


So some old guy named Allen Sorrentino wrote a letter to the editor of the yogaBarrington Times (it’s in Rhode Island – I checked) yesterday and just went to town on women who wear yoga pants. Listen, I know some ladies don’t look the greatest in yoga pants but in my opinion it’s like anything else, if you don’t like what you’re seeing turn away. And hey, if I get a bad order of sushi I’m not going to quit eating sushi, know what I mean? Bottom line, Allen Sorrentino doesn’t speak for all men and should shut his piehole.

Anyway, read the letter. It’s a masterpiece.

Update: The yoga pants wearing women have revolted. They’re planning a Yoga Pants Parade past this dude’s house.



After this bomb was dropped, a bunch of yoga wearing protesters marched around this dude’s neighborhood. Yep, that happened, folks. Here’s proof:




Dyin’ over here.


Fun Fact: I’ve eaten in Harry Caray’s restaurant a coupla times. The Truffled Arancini is amazing. 

Doesn't look a day over 27.

Doesn’t look a day over 27.

(WJAR) – The coach of a Providence, Rhode Island, youth football team is fired and his team kicked out of its league after he put a young man believed to be at least 18-years old into a game.

He suited up at halftime for the Capital City Buccaneers who were losing. He went onto the field and took part in several plays before getting kicked out.

Buccaneers founder Alexandra Diaz said she fired the coach and ended the team’s season as a result. She said the illegal player is the older brother of a player on the team.

When NBC 10 spoke with Diaz, she had not yet gotten word that the Rhode Island Pre-Teen Football League decided to permanently ban her team.

“It’s a safety issue,” league vice president Nelson Pedro told NBC 10.

Hey, if you’re not cheatin’ you’re not tryin’, amirite? Seriously though, what a fierce will to win that coach has, huh? Losing?

What the hell, let’s just sneak in Bobby’s 18-year old brother Bubba. Nobody will notice.”

Seemed like a sure-fire plan to me. And how about League Vice President Nelson Pedro? Dude has a flair for the obvious, doesn’t he? “It’s a safety issue.” Can’t argue with you there, Pedro.

Fun Fact: A Paint Valley varsity football coach once had a player thrown out of the game, so he had the kid switch jerseys right on the sideline in front of everybody. Then he put him back in the game. Of course the refs found out pretty quickly and he was thrown back out again. True story.

Can't we all just get along?

Can’t we all just get along?

Sorry Trump supporters, but it’s true. Barring some one-in-a-million, life-jolting, earth shattering event that knocks the world off its axis, the election is over.

The Donald can’t win.

Pundits can talk about emails, murders, lies, p*ssy grabbing, sniffling and the rest, but rest assured, no matter who you back in this volatile, emotion-filled election, the truth is it’s basically over.

See, here’s the problem. Most people watch FOX, MSNBC, CNN, CNBC (they all run together for me at this point) and even the old ABC, NBC and CBS networks, but they’re basically just hucksters out there trying to make a buck and gain viewership. Hell, they don’t want to tell you it’s over because people would quit watching and the money would quit rolling in. Nobody got time for that, now do they?

The reality, though?

Nate Silver, who called 49 or the 50 states in the 2008 election correctly, then followed that up by picking an incredible 50 of 50 in 2012, gives Clinton an 85.9% chance of winning and Trump a 14.1% chance.

Uh-oh. I’m no mathematician but that seems a bit lopsided, man.

Mitt Romney only won 206 electoral votes in 2012, and according to Karl Rove’s judgment, Trump can only feel comfortable with about 168 with 2-weeks to go. And friends, Karl Rove is about as conservative as you can get. He was Senior Advisor to President George W. Bush from 2000 to 2007. He also points out that although Trump is barely eeking out a polling lead here in Ohio and Iowa, he is behind in North Carolina and Arizona, states that Romney won. He adds that the deficit in other big electoral vote states like Florida is so severe that Trump is unlikely to pull ahead.

Somehow though, people have the impression that the race is close. For instance, I’ve heard from several people who are amazed at all the Trump signs they see along the road:

“I counted 112 Trump signs on the way to Dayton today! And there were only 29 for Hillary. Trump’s going to win!”

Too bad signs can't vote, amirite?

Too bad signs can’t vote, amirite?

The problem with that logic is this – sure, although Trump will probably win Southern Ohio, those votes will be cancelled out by just a few voting precincts in Cleveland.

It’s a fact, folks. Sorry.

Listen, I’m not a huge fan of either candidate. Hillary Clinton is flawed, to put it mildly, and Trump is, well, something. Scary maybe? This election the epitome of the phrase, “picking the lesser of two evils” to me.

But bottom line? If you really look at the information it would take a miracle for Donald Trump to win this election, and the reality is that it’s probably going to be a landslide.

And whatever happens, it’s going to take a whole lotta healing before our country can get on track again.


See? Smiling doesn’t hurt. Wait. Is The Donald smiling?

Sidenote: I’ve never understood the Trumpian logic that says if Hillary wins the election is rigged, but if The Donald wins it is not. Makes zero sense. And oh, by the way, do you have any idea how difficult it would be to “rig” a national election? Hell, my dog Sparky and I can’t keep a secret and he can’t talk. 


I don’t know what it is that fascinates me so much about these photos. Maybe it’s the fact that Yao Ming seems like a good, cool dude just hanging out with all these tiny golfers like a boss. I mean, Tiger Woods looks like a toddler standing by him. Anyhoo, enjoy these photos of Yao Ming hanging out with golfers, one of whom is none other than Morgan Freeman. It’s a weird world, man.

Note: Please scroll down. You’ll thank me for it.








Whew. Well, that was difficult.

Anyone who’s a Walking Dead fan will tell you that last night’s Season 7 Premiere was absolutely gut-wrenching. I swear I felt as if I’d been punched right in the stomach. I was a little sleepy before the show started, but afterwards I was wired for hours. Just a brutal, emotional show that was difficult to get over.

You know a show has hit you hard when it’s the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought about when you woke up.

Surprisingly (at least to me), it seems most of the reviews were pretty poor, with complaints about the negativity, the killings and the overall “bleakness” of the premiere. W-h-u-u-u-t? Uh, newsflash, folks. People are always dying in this show. It’s always had a lot of death followed by characters immersed in grief. If that’s not the definition of bleak I don’t know what is. And what the hell did you expect, for the characters to build a makeshift stage and start performing showtunes?

Good Lord.

But back to a couple observations about the show. Honestly, I only have a couple questions, and those are these:

  • Honestly, who sits there and lets somebody club them over the head with a barbwire-wrapped baseball bat? I know Negan had threatened them and told them not to move, but wouldn’t you go down swinging?
  • Was it me or did Rick have more than a couple chances to take Negan out in the RV? I guess we’re supposed to believe he was so distraught from the killings he was crippled mentally? Seems a little bit of a stretch, especially knowing Rick as we do. I know he witnessed a lot that night, but hasn’t he been through worse? I mean, he watched his son kill his best friend, watched his son get shot (twice), and experienced his son kill his wife Beth.

Finally, just a couple quick observations. It’s always pissed me off when I excitedly tell people about The Walking Dead and they come back with this:

“Ah, I’m not a fan of zombie shows. Sorry.”

Really? If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a million times, the brilliance of The Walking Dead is not about zombies and it’s not about the violence, although both of those are an integral part of the show. From the beginning it’s always been about the characters. Real TWD fans know and understand this.

Perhaps the most amazing thing longtime fans have come to realize about The Walking Dead is that the true monsters are not the dead walking the earth, but instead, man. Chilling really, but in an apocalyptic world it makes perfect sense, right?

Bottom line? I loved the Season 7 Premiere. If you read the graphic comic this didn’t come as a shock. Hell, the death of Glenn last night was a mirror image of the comic. As a friend of mine messaged me a bit ghoulishly, the TV producers “hit it right on the head.”


Yep. Pretty much.

So, if you’ve a TV junkie but have never watched this show, I strongly encourage a Netflix binge party as soon as possible.

You’ll catch up in no time.


This haunting photo is of Otto Frank visiting the attic where he and his family, including Anne, hid from the Nazis for 2-years before being sold out by an informant. Otto was the only member of his family who survived the war.


Yeah, this pretty much was a combination of my emotions as well. On a related note, if somebody I was with yapped like that dude on the right I’d throat punch him.


Once again, pure comedy.



How in the  . . .?


Pure comedy.


Movie trailers were used to be shown after the movie, which is why they were called “trailers”. That practice did not last long, because patrons tended to leave the theater after the films ended, but the name has stuck. Trailers are now shown before the film begins.



Damn you, Canada.


Can’t fault the logic, man.



Not from that night, but pretty damn close.

Back in 1991 I was in my second year coaching varsity basketball. We had a really good team and we were playing another really good team from another league. Due to what occurred that night I’ll try and leave our opponent’s name out of the story. However, if you were there that night you’ll never forget what went down . . .

Like I said, we were a very good team that year, as we had been the year prior. We were about to play a team we’d beaten the year before, but they’d improved and really, really wanted to avenge that loss.

How badly? We had no idea.

Oblivious to what was waiting for us, we prepared for the game like any other. Game day arrived and we made the bus trip over the hills, into the next county and into our opponent’s gym.

Upon walking in though, we knew something was different. Although the reserve game was just getting started, the place was packed. In those days a full gym wasn’t that surprising though.

However, the emotionally charged atmosphere that hit us as we walked inside was an eye-opener.

As the home crowd stood and booed lustily, we looked around and there were signs everywhere. Some were of the generic variety, some decidedly not.

The gym we were in was pretty small, with maybe 15-18 rows one one side and a set of bleachers on the stage. On a related note, the crowd was decidedly 95% anti-Bearcats. We had a faction of small, but mighty and boisterous, fans in one corner of that stage.

It was then, as we were walking into the gym and towards our locker rooms, that I noticed a sign. Here’s what it read:


Uh . . . oh. Where had I heard that before? And then it hit me. After we’d beaten this team the year before, one of my quotes in the paper was this:

“I was glad to get out of there with a win. That’s a nasty place to play.”

I’ll swear to the day I die I never meant that comment as an insult to our opponent’s small gym. What I meant was that it was a tough place to win because they always had hard-nosed, well-coached teams with loud, loyal crowds. That’s what I’d meant by nasty.

Really, that’s what I meant.

At this point, however? Too late for explanations. I’d insulted their gym, their team, their school, and apparently their entire community, which incidentally was there en masse that night.

We went down to our locker room, which was at the bottom of some stairs under the bleachers. As we dressed we could hear the roar of the crowd, even during the reserve game.

The place was electric.

Eventually we took the floor, of course to loud boos and taunting from the crowd.

As the game progressed, the atmosphere only became more intense. The score was close throughout, which only ratcheted up the intensity. Objects were thrown from the crowd, usually at me, which to my recollection included pennies, candy (my managers loved that), and anything else folks could get their hands on.

At one point the game was stopped and an administrator made an announcement, something along these lines:

“Listen, no matter what the other coach said about our school, please try and stop throwing things at him.”

I swear it was something like that. Probably not the best choice of words, because they only amped the crowd up more.

And man, if you’d have heard some of the things being yelled at me from behind our bench your jaw would have hit the floor.

Anyway, as we entered the last quarter we were in trouble. We trailed a very talented team whose crowd wanted a win very badly. With around 5:00 remaining, we were down by 10-points.

But then, thanks to a timeout followed by a furious full court press, we made a run. Did I mention we had three of the best little defensive guards in the league in Todd Shoemaker, Casey McFadden, and Roman Diekan? All three were 5-10 and they would get after you defensively.

Not only that, they feared nobody. Not even hundreds of angry fans giving them Holy Hell from the bleachers. Shoot, it made my guys play harder.

Bottom line, we held our opponents scoreless the last 5:00 of the game, and eventually forced overtime. It was on.

As we readied for the overtime tip, the din of the crowd was deafening. But the real fun was about to commence.

The Bearcats got the tip, and it was then we made the decision to hold the ball.

Yep, you read that right. We decided hold the ball and go for the last shot.

Hey, we had three of the best guards, defenders and ballhandlers in the Scioto Valley Conference, we were playing in a hostile (to put it mildly) environment, so why not hold it and go for the win?

And that’s exactly what we did.

Todd, Roman and Casey dribbled and passed their way through the overtime, running a weave out front as our opponents tried desperately to regain possession of the basketball.

Wasn’t happening, man. And as you can imagine, this only amped up the tension higher with the crowd, if that were possible.

We burned the clock in that spread offense until there were about 5-seconds left, when Todd Shoemaker rifled a no-look, bullet pass from the top of the key to 6′-5″ sophomore (and future 1st Team All-Ohioan) Craig Kerns under the basket. Kerns was immediately fouled on the wide-open layup, giving him two free throws with 1-second remaining in the tied game.

It was then we called a timeout, and I told Craig to make the first shot (I had no doubt he would) and miss the second, giving the other team no time to get the rebound and call their own timeout and attempt a last second prayer of a play.

As Craig was lining up for the first shot, I saw Todd walk up from beyond the 3-point line and whisper something to him. He actually had his hands cupped over his mouth as he whispered in Craig’s ear. In retrospect I should have known something was up. Alas, in the heat of the moment I did not.

So, Craig made the first to put us up 1 and missed the second as directed. An opposing player grabbed the rebound threw up a desperation shot that missed, and we’d pulled off the big comeback win under very difficult circumstances.

One of the incredible final stats was that we held a very good team, including the last quarter and overtime, to zero points over the last 9-minutes of the game.

As I started to go over to shake hands with the opposing coach, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. As I turned to look, I saw Todd and Craig running towards the opposite wall. Then I saw them rip a particularly offensive sign off the wall.

Uh-oh. So that’s what they’d been talking about.

I can’t say it was the best decision they’d ever made, but they’d also been suffering through some pretty intense verbal abuse the entire game. Did I condone it? No. Did I understand it? Yes I did.

At that point, well, all hell broke loose.

People poured onto the floor and fights seemed to be breaking out everywhere.

My assistant coaches, Daron Myers and Pete Hollon among them, were fending off people trying to get at me, and at one point formed a circle around me as we attempted to get our team to the locker room.

I remember that Craig’s father Brad, our film guy, forgo the ladder that led to his little crow’s nest where he’d been filming and basically jumped down to join the fray.

Finally, we made it downstairs to the locker room. Once there, we could hear people at the top of the steps yelling nasty things down to us. A group of our parents actually stood guard at the top of the stairs. I told my players to sit tight, that we’d have to wait this out until things calmed down. Soon after that, a local policeman came to tell us the same thing, that they were calling in some more enforcement to clear the gym.

My players didn’t even change into their street clothes. They just sat there waiting to be told what to do next.

Over an hour later the gym was eventually cleared, but a lot of people were still waiting for us in the parking lot. Soon, a plan was hatched. Our bus left the lot it was parked in and was brought around to the other side of the school. With a large group of our fans forming a tunnel, we suck out through a side door and boarded our bus.

What happened next seems surreal even today. After we were all seated, the Sheriff of the county we were playing in got on the bus, stood at the front, and said this:

“You fellas better keep  your heads down until you get out of _______ County.”

Yep. That actually happened. I have witnesses.

On a related note, do you know how you can tell you have loyal assistant coaches? When, after hearing what the local sheriff just said, you have this discussion with one of them:

Coach Myers: “Coach, switch places with me.”

Me: “Why?

Coach Myers: “You’d better get away from the window. They’ll be aiming for you.”

That’s loyalty, folks.

As we pulled out we were escorted, front and back, by several cars and trucks from Paint Valley. Behind our fans, in the back, followed a lot of cars that were not from Ross County. When we crossed into Ross County, those cars turned around and went back from whence they came.

You may not be surprised to learn that I got several phone calls the next day, most from angry fans threatening to beat my ass but with a few death threats thrown in for fun as well.

Good times, huh?

Our twice yearly regular season games with that opponent were cancelled for the foreseeable future, although the very next year we happened to draw them in the sectional tournament. Again, they couldn’t beat us.

Thank God it was on a neutral court.

Note: Folks from the school and opponent in question will most certainly have a different perspective regarding what happened that night, and they are certainly welcome to chime in if they feel the need.



Image  —  Posted: October 21, 2016 in Maps, Politics, Things I Love

As kids we all had our favorite foods, right? No matter the age, we all have memories of eating certain things we loved when we were little ‘uns. Seems like Ramen Noodles are sort of a staple these days, but when I was a kid other foodstuffs were more common.

Heck man, I could tear through a box of Cheez-Its in 20-minutes if I could have done it without Mom catching me. On a related note, nothing worse than your parents buying groceries and then not letting you eat certain things. I remember having a 6-pack of Pepsi in the fridge with the instructions that it had to last the whole week between my two sisters and I. Brutal, man.

Anyhoo, here are a few of my staples as a youngster:

Cheez Whiz

Are you serious? I still love Cheez Whiz. That stuff is the best, man. I used to put it on crackers, bread, pretzels, and I even used it as chip dip. And yes, sometimes I just ate it right out of the jar, quite often with my fingers. And you know it helps to fend off cancer, right? Cheez Whiz is golden, man.


Peanut Butter Sandwich

Oh yeah. Straight up peanut butter on white Wonder Bread. And I loved both the crunchy and smooth. Jif and Skippy were my favorites, hands-down.


Suzy Q’s 

Sweet Mother of God I ate these babies like they were going out of style when I was a kid. I’d ride my bike down to Lance’s Store, buy a 2-pack, and have them finished off long before I got back home. Tastilicious.


American Cheese

Sure, it was processed cheese that tasted a little like styrofoam, but it was way too convenient to pull out a slice, rip that plastic off, and scarf that baby down.


Atomic Fireballs

Hey, any product that has a nuclear bomb on the box has gotta be good, amirite? I’d pop as many of these tasty little kerosene balls in my mouth as I could and let the good times roll. Woot!


Mallo Cups

Hell, I eat Mallo Cups today. As a matter of fact, my 5th grade students used to bring them to me a couple times a week. It seems as if the scrumptious cups are becoming harder and harder to find and that’s a national tragedy. Mallo Cups > Reese’s Cups, all day, every day, every way.


Wax Bottles

Remember the little wax bottles filled with God knows what? You’d bite off the top and drink them? I don’t know what was in there but I loved it. And I was hardcore man, I’d chew on and eat the bottle like a boss.


Vienna Sausages

Vienna Sausages in barbecue sauce, to be precise. That was my staple mid-afternoon snack right there, man. I lived with a dude in college that made Mac & Cheese with Vienna Sausages and it was spectacular. Still love me some Vienna Sausages.



Oh, hells to the yah! Nothing says heaven more than a couple sardines on a cracker, man. Oh, and they have to be in mustard sauce, that’s a no-brainer. I lived on sardines as a kid.


Oh, of course I had bologna and cheese sandwiches, frozen pizza, pizza rolls and stuff like that, but these were my favorites. Don’t judge, man.

Note: I have to give a shoutout to the greatest bubble gum of all-time, Bazooka. I followed the enclosed comic Bazooka Joe, too. No better gum, ever.