Fruits vs Vegetables.

    In this garden of life we now live in, we tend not to stop and reflect upon certain issues that may or may not have any bearing on our lives. Like this question for starters - I had someone ask me about what fruit or vegetable am I? Being a meat eater I scoff at the organic and granola eaters of the world not because of their alternative lifestyle, but because they are usually a bunch of whiny, sandal wearing, stinking hippies. Or Gay. I haven't decided. But nevertheless the question remains and I reflect:

  

    To answer the question of which type I would be, based on pure manliness I would say banana. But I do eat carrots all the time, not that I am a rabbit, because I would be pretty huge and the only one of my kind at six foot one. But carrots are cheap (like $2 for a bag of carrots), And It gives me great night vision like a fox, but not a fox, because they eat rabbits, which I am not.

  

    So my answer would be pears. They are sweet, delicious, and ripe...but for only one day... before they quickly turn on you. And if you turn your head to look away, even for a moment, they ripen and mature past their prime, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth. Also, if you eat them before that time, you will get the same result. Wait a minute, screw them, pears are jerks, and that I am not.

    Peaches have some femininity about them, references to being a Georgia peach, or maybe even unlocking the hidden treasure between a females thighs that men desire. Come to think of it, you can exclude cherries, strawberries, raspberries (pretty much all berries) for the same reason. Although for us men, our manhood is referenced as twig and berries, but coconuts better suit this purpose. Or Kiwi's. No, not the nickname for the people of New Zealand, because a citizen of - I am not.  

    Melons in general will never be relieved of the comparison to the other part of female anatomy, which, by coincidence, happen to be my favorite fruits to eat. And just like the fruit, melons are just as nice, firm and round as their female counterparts. And if you surveyed a group of men regardless of race or age, I believe that all would agree. Even the homosexuals. Which I am not.

    Although speaking of homosexuals, they do refer to the group as "fruits." So due to this realization I would have to be a vegetable of sorts but which one? Romanesco sounds too exotic as well as Kohlrabi, Salsify, Sunchoke or even Artichoke for that matter. Kale is right out. That also goes for anything "leafy" like cabbage or lettuce including all sprouts. Nuts I'm allergic too so I'm definitely not that. I guess I would have to be the lonely potato. Don't be fooled, the potato makes some pretty cool things like vodka, fries, and chips, and the fact that their awesome! Like I am.    

The Ongoing Exploits of Frank Sledge #55

Women.

If it weren't for the off chance of hitting on the local checkout girl at the grocery store on his weekly routine of milk, fruits, vegetables, chicken and pasta run, Frank would have never ended up in a place like this. There’s something he despised more than having other guys hitting on the girl he liked than having them doing it on reality TV.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What I wouldn’t do for a piece of ass" he thought quietly to himself. Not that it was too hard to come by, the local girls at his favorite watering hole Essie’s made it pretty obvious who he was going home with that night, but he’s been eyeing up Pam now for quite some time. The long brown hair, big pouty lips and fake bust were hard to ignore. A little shorter than his taste but Oh! Those big blue eyes of hers, Frank could easily see himself getting lost in them…amongst her better parts.

Sitting in a studio lobby waiting anxiously for her to come out, looking at the other “competition” Frank sizes up each man around him. The man on his left, a tall lanky metrosexual wearing beige slacks and striped button up shirt with his peach sweater vest made him a no match in his mind. Unless it was for being the biggest bore, that he was sure he would win.   

The slightly older gentleman to his right was playing up the sophisticated type with his reader’s glasses, trimmed beard and a briar pipe. The smell reminded him of the same pipe his old high school football coach use to smoke during the half time show. Who the fuck smokes a pipe nowadays? And what type of dumbass does he think she is? How many girls have fallen for this douche canoe?  The thought of it angered Frank, and made him want to punch his pompous chin that much more.

The two gentlemen sitting on the sofa wearing their jeans and white affliction no limit tee shirts could pass off as brothers…or lovers? That made frank smile. Seeing no visible scars, crooked noses or even a cauliflower ear put his mind at ease that these two were no fighters, but daytime posers.  Frank doubted them ever being in a fight unless it resorted to snapping each other asses with a wet towel in the shower.

The Guido in the tight fitting black shirt sitting on the edge of the sofa posed the biggest threat. Maybe not so much in the fighting arena, judging the way he’s built -  barrel chested, big arms and shoulders, but skinny legs beneath those designer jeans. They always seem to skip leg day. No surprise there. The only surprise frank thought is how he even got into those jeans without removing his testicles. They must be located in that man purse of his wrapped around him.

6:05pm. Glancing back from the black and white clock on the wall across the room it’s about half past time Franks waited. Listening to the five of them bicker like a bunch of clucking hens about who was the best man for her, who had the higher education, who had the bigger dick, cluck, cluck, cluck, is all he heard. Frank was not known as a patient man, more of a quick to rise and fight, and his temperature was past the boiling point. 

“Listen up needledicks!” Frank shouted as he kicked out the stool underneath the legs of Mr. Pompous.

“I have a show for you that you’re not gonna wanna miss tonight.”

Room falls silent.

“Alright. I had enough of you pansy ass, wannabe, dinglefucks. Wipe that sand out of your vaginas and Stop crying about what’s going to happen, and start worrying about what’s happening right now!” 

Shocked the five of them have all eyes glued on frank now, but not as shocked as when Frank pulled off his shirt and his pulled down his jeans and stood there amongst the five of them in his white, baggy, fruit of the looms underwear and red socks yelling “BANANA TIME BITCHES!!!!!”        

Stunned by the sheer audacity of the now underwear clad man where reason once stood beside them failed to see the first blow land on Mr. Pompous chin, knocking him clean to the floor. Frank noticed the metrosexual standing with all his weight on the right hip, and a well-placed kick to his knee brought him down faster than a three legged horse with polio.  “Ha-ha!” Frank shouted with glee just before he ran at the two on the sofa and announced “Look up Buttercups.” Frank leaped over the brothers, smashing the two knuckle heads together, knocking them unconscious before his feet landed on the other side.

Without a moment to spare Frank turns around and just before he was about to punch out the remaining contender, the Guido sticks his hands up like he was being robbed and says “don’t hit me, she’s not worth it you crazy cazzo!” Frank wasn’t sure what cazzo meant, but he took it literally as this guy needs a fucking karate chop to the neck. So that’s what he did. And down like a sack of hammers he went.

By this time Pam and the studio director come out after hearing all the commotion and saw what appeared to be displayed before them was a picture of pure testosterone insanity. Slowly doing up the zipper on his Levis, Frank could care less whether or not they were standing there open mouthed and aghast. 

“You there” The studio director said grinding his teeth, He was a short man wearing white slacks and a black button up shirt, with a big nose and even bigger moustache.

“Just what the flying fuck happened in here??? And why the hell are you not wearing any clothes??”

Frank bends over and picks up his shirt and flings it across his shoulders while slipping on his high tops.

“Well??!” Big nose asked.

Frank flashed a sly grin and replied: “isn’t it obvious?” 

The director just shrugged his shoulders with a dumbfounded look on his big nose face.

“Winning your contest…Like a man.” Frank turned around and waved an arm as he walked away.  “Let’s go Pam.”  He called out as he steps outside and pulls out his keys to his 1971 Plymouth Roadrunner. And she did. And that’s how frank landed number #55. Like a man.

Weather or not.

Weather. Love it or hate it, it’ll always be a part of us. We can’t avoid it even if we wanted to. Sunny and plus 20 one day,  then slowly throughout the night, winter creeps into our lives (uninvitingly I might add) and robs us of our morning  sunshine with freezing wind, frost on the windshields, icy roads  and 6 or more inches  of snow. It’s just like that damn raccoon that slinks into my yard at night, busting open my garbage for a free meal, and then proceeds to spread our family’s disposable contents across the lawn as if to leave some kind of message (particularly to the family dog). Seems to be working too, I have never seen Rocco so terrified of something in his entire life.  One particular reason I got the dog was to stop the neighbor’s cat leaving fresh presents on my fresh cut lawn in the mornings. Being higher up in the food chain I thought that by getting a dog I would be one upping nature. It seems I have been played the fool, for nature saw my king high and raised me with an ace. I could have only imagined what nature would have had in store for me if I had been allowed to raise that cougar that I always wanted. No matter. It’s just nature’s way of letting you know whose boss. And she seems to be throwing her weight around the world these past few years - Fires, Floods, Hurricanes, Tidal waves, Rabid wildlife creatures, Bird flu, Syphilis, Sharknado’s, it’s all been a big pain in humanity’s ass and were left with the aftermath to pick up the pieces.  I’ve noticed that she’s been especially cruel to those countries that don’t have much to begin with and are in need of some kind of relief funds.  Being in a first world country the help relies on us to extend a hand, but I can’t help wonder what if the tables have turned on us?  Would we get the same treatment?

1st World Countries:  So a flood broke out.

Rest of the World: Uh huh.

1st: And it did a lot of damage.

ROW: Ya.

1st:  So we were wondering…

ROW:?

1st: Well…we would really like some money to help us out with that…?

ROW: Huh?

ROW: Oh. You mean us?

1st: Ya.

ROW: Sorry. We got none for you.

1st: Well that’s funny.

ROW: What’s funny?

1ST: Remember all those times we gave you all that money?

ROW: Nope.

1ST: For those disasters…

ROW: Which one?

1ST: All of them?

ROW: Not a clue.

1ST: What do you mean NOT A CLUE?

ROW: Weren’t those charitable donations?

1ST: Uh…Well you see it’s kinda like this.

ROW: Like what?

1ST: Well we were doing it in the sense like - If I scratch your back…

ROW: Uh huh.

1ST: You scratch ours.

ROW: Oh I see. So none of which you gave us was out of the kindness of your heart?

1ST: Well not all of it.

ROW: So just some of it then.

1ST: Well it was supposed to be a “donation.”

ROW: Well we took your “donation” and used it to feed our people. And build makeshift hospitals and houses for those that were destroyed in the disaster.

1st: Yaaa...So out of fairness we would now like some of that back.

Row: Like an Indian giver.

1st: Like what?

ROW: You know, A Indian giver, someone who gives you something then takes it back.

1st: Huh? How do you know this?  Isn’t most of your population illiterate?

ROW: I dunno. You tell me. You built our schools.

1st: Sons of bitches! You do admit to using our funds for something other than relief.

ROW: Well…

1st: Well what?

ROW: You gave it to us.

1st: Out of charity.

ROW: And we thank you.

1st: Grrrrr…All were asking for is a little relief money to get by that’s all.

ROW: Isn’t your countries the countries were money comes from?

1st: Well our money.

ROW: So print more of it.

1st: It doesn’t work like that.

ROW: What do you mean?

1st: Agghhh. Fuck. Because of trading, and stocks, and debt, and shit.

ROW: Easy big guy…

1st: Well quit dicking us around and give us some money so we can fix this.

ROW: No.

1st: Please?

ROW: We’d like to,

1st: Uh boy.

ROW: But um you see it’s like this…

1st: Here we go.

ROW: We owe all of these other countries…

1st: Uh huh.

ROW: And the wives have been up working late to help with the bills…

1st: Ok.

ROW: And the rent was due like yesterday…

1st: Ya.

ROW: And you see… we... just... don’t... want... to?

1st: Don’t want to?

ROW: Yaaa...

1st: That’s your story?

ROW: Um sure.

1st: Well fine, fuck you then. See if we ever help you guys out with your fucking tsunami’s, and build your stupid mud huts and fix your fucking bicycles, and your gay straw hats and precious motor less fishing boats, it’s the fucking 21st century for fuck sakes, get a fucking clue, or job or stop building on the side of a fucking cliff using palm tree leaves, or shit. Fuck.

ROW: You ok there big guy?

1st: ……

ROW: Would you like a soda?

1st: Piss off.

ROW: Would you like to tell us what’s bothering you?

1st: No. You know why.

ROW: Com’on…

1st: No.

ROW: Feeling better?

1st: ….…I’m ok.

ROW: Would you like an ice cream bar?

1st: Sure. I’d love an ice cream bar. If you give us 50 million dollars I’ll go buy one.

ROW: Nice try.

1st: Fine. Maybe next time we might just fix your country by blowing it up. Like a clean slate.

ROW: Fine. Then maybe we will just stop building your toys, cars, and any devices you happen to use in you’re little greedy money grubbing daily life.

1st: Fine. Maybe we will do that then.

ROW: Fine. Maybe we will.

1st: Well ok then.

ROW: Well ok, be that way.

1st: We will. Enjoy your barren land with your communist run government of HIV populated, uneducated, Low mortality rated, weaponless, pathetic society of underfed, lazy, toothless, farmers.

ROW: We will. Enjoy Justin Bieber fags.

1st: Ohhhhhh... Fucking hate those guys oh so... so much right now.

ROW: HA ha!

END