Countdown

First of all, I had to beat the Birdman to this post, but I'm sure at some point closer to December 25th he'll have his own take on this movie. Love Actually is the best Christmas movie to come out since A Christmas story. A Christmas story came out in 1983, and Love Actually came out in 2003. For those of you who don't have a calculator handy, that's 20 years folks. A long time in the life span of we human beings. If you have not seen this movie yet, get out of your cave and rent it. It's a master piece.

Generally speaking I don't have much use for Hugh Grant, but I liked him a lot in this movie. What was your favorite story line in this epic? Really all of the stories are good in Love Actually. I made the mistake of renting this movie out, free of charge, to some good friends of ours about 6 months ago. I doubt that they have watched it yet, and time is running out for them. I need this movie back ASAP! I don't want to have to kill them so they had better return it immediately.

That's really all I'm going to say about Love Actually, because I don't want to spoil anything for those of you that have not seen it yet. There will be a quiz on December 26th so make sure that you're prepared.

I'm in a really good mood today, I'm not even sure why. I just am. I am enjoying all the new friends that have been coming to the Log lately. It's been really fun getting to know ya'all. Something I've been thinking about lately is how easy it is to become desensitized during this time of the year. With all the commercials, movies, music, and Corky ramming this holiday down your throat, I can kind of understand how it could happen. Not for me gang. I love this holiday and by the end of this glorious month you will understand why. From what I can tell, most of you people are Christmas freaks too, and If you're not Corky and company will crack you. That's what we're here for.

The Choir: Gee Corky, what are we going to do today?

Corky: Same thing we do every day, try to take over the world.

Missed Opportunities

Do you ever feel like you missed your calling in life? I know I do. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy with the way my life turned out, but sometimes I wish I had been born 50 years earlier. I would have made one hell of a lounge singer. I could see myself sitting in a bar all night, year after year, drinking scotch and chain smoking three packs a day. Yep, I certainly would have made one hell of a lounge singer.

I've started watching all of my favorite holiday films this week in preparation for Christmas. Holiday Inn is one of my top 10 favorites. What a great film! I'm not any kind of dance expert, but I've never seen someone who could move like Fred Astaire. That dude was so light on his feet that it seemed like he could glide, he was real flexible flyer. I'm pretty sure that most people know all about what kind of singer Bing Crosby was. Ever hear that duet he sang with David Bowie? Not bad.

The best scene in Holiday Inn is a battle sequence between Bing singing and Fred dancing(they also mock each other in that scene). Fred also does a 4th of July number(that's what we showman in the business call a routine) with a smoke in his mouth and fire crackers. Almost every time I'm done watching this flick I drive my wife crazy singing (I have a tendency of butchering lyrics, but I can carry a tune) and dancing(couldn't dance to save my soul).

The world seemed like a much happier place during the golden age of Hollywood. You couldn't even be an actor if you didn't smoke two cartons a week, and all the old crooners like Sinatra for example, wouldn't be caught dead in public with out a glass of scotch glued to his hand. Now in days if you smoke your treated like a leper, and most actors you see today have water in their hands instead of Scotch. They don't live any longer as far as I can tell, and they certainly don't act any better. I bet you couldn't find two guys who are currently living on this planet that could out sing, out dance or out act Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. Who? Matt Damon and Ben Afflec? Give me a fucking break!

Perhaps in the near future I will drink a bottle of scotch and put up some audio posts for you. I know your just dying to hear Corky the Crooner, belt out some Christmas songs.

Lady K, it's cold outside

At least that's what I hear or have read on most of your blogs today. It was 70 degrees at one point in KY today, and the shit is pissing me off! I'm ready for the cold. I want wind and snow. I want to have to wear thermal underwear when I leave my house. I want to go to a bar and drink an Irish whiskey or two. Shit, I even want to wear a turtle neck, do they even still make those god-awful things? What I don't have is any interest in flying a fucking kite at this time of the year, and that's about all you could do with yesterday's weather. It's complete and utter feldercarb!

The temperature is supposed to drop late on Thursday, and then next week it will finally be cold. At least that's what the AOL weather report told me. Those fuckers better not be wrong. I've put up with a lot of crap from them over the years, and if they fuck-up the weather report, I'm going to dump AOL like a bad habit.

Ok, there is so much ground that we didn't cover yesterday(I apologize for that) and I was almost going to write a follow up post, but I've decided to give it a rest for a day or two. I did find a fun video on You Tube that I will run for a couple of days. I hope you enjoy it.

Feldercarb

 Anytime I move into a new home before I unpack so much as my toothbrush or a roll of toilet paper I make sure to christen the new joint with this picture.

A picture of Captain Apollo and Lt. Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica (the poor man's bastardization of Star Trek/Star Wars).

Doesn't this picture inspire you?

The last video tape I ever bought was Battlestar Galactica the movie. I think I bought it for two dollars and ninety nine cents. What a find and great investment. The deal of a life time! I've replaced just about every VHS tape that I consider to be an important part of my soul with a DVD copy, but I'm not going to replace Battlestar. I'm too proud of it.

There's no need to go into the great acting, the strong scripts or the amazing special affects. At night I sleep with the VHS tape under my pillow.

But more importantly I want to focus on the most underutilized word in the dictionary feldercarb.

Feldercarb is a word that should be used at least once an hour. For example: I get tons of feldercarb in my various e-mail accounts everyday. Sometimes in the form of advertisements, and sometimes from my boss. I hate his brand of feldercarb the worst. "Frack! More feldercarb from the boss". How much feldercarb can one man produce? I only see the boss a couple of times a month, so most of the time we communicate through e-mail. Thank God. I would much rather receive his feldercarb in an e-mail then watch it seep from his mouth.

Anyway, the next show I intend on watching on DVD is the new Battlestar Galactica from the Sci-Fi Channel. I've heard nothing but good things about it, but I just don't have the time to watch it right now. With the holidays coming and football there's too much feldercarb going on in my life right now. Hopefully I'll have a chance to watch it in March when life come to screeching halt.

I really feel like I should say more about the guy that played Starbuck, but I'll leave that feldercarb for another time. If you're really starved for some Starbuck action Biddie wrote some real heart warming stuff about the guy on her blog yesterday.

The final fate of Sally Struthers

Yesterday I woke at 1:15 pm which means I woke up late! Sunday is football day in my house and I hate being late for the 1:00 o'clock kick off on my couch.

Please sing along and feel free to use your own music: When I'm late for work, I don't care.
When I'm late for an appointment, I don't care.
When people are waiting for me outside in the snow, I really don't care, but when I'm late for my couch on Sundays, I care. I really fucking careeeeeeeeeee (the song works a lot better if you actually sing it, I suggest you try singing it as if you were Carol King).
So this morning when I woke up at 1:15, I jumped out of bed and almost killed myself, and our two cats on my way into the living room. When I got to the living room, which took me less then 10 seconds, I found my wife and our friend Erika sitting on the couch watching the Gilmore Girls. " Let me get this straight, It's Sunday afternoon at 1:15, I haven't had so much as a sip of coffee, Two football games are on TV right now, and you guys are watching the Gilmore Girls? Are you kidding me"? I had to do everything in my power to resist putting my head through the TV.

Don't get me wrong, the Gilmore Girls is actually a pretty funny show. The town folk are the biggest group of freaks on television right now, and freaks are always a plus in my book. Both Sebastian Back, and Sally Struthers have recurring characters on the Gilmore Girls and how can one not truly love Sally Struthers? My wife recently borrowed five seasons of the Gilmore girls from one of her friends so it's all Gilmore, all the time at my house right now, and that's cool (anything to make my wife happy) but not on Sundays, at least not until March (My wife actually likes football, so this story is a bit misleading, and definitely intentionally sexist).

After I threw my temper tantrum, sang my song and stormed off, my wife turned off the Gilmore Girls and called me back into the living room by 1:30. I think I scared the life out of Erika though, because she was waving goodbye to me as I came out of the bedroom. "Sorry about that Erika, I can be such a baby at times".

Corky...have you ever read a Superman comic?

Wednesday night after drinking three cups of coffee at work I had a vision. I happen to have visions all the time, and some times my visions become delusional, but not this time. I'm kind of like that dude on Heroes that has to shoot dope in order for his powers to work. Currently, I only need coffee to induce my power. I spend about 500 dollars a year on coffee at work, isn't that ridiculous? Just think, If I stopped drinking coffee at work I would have an extra 500 dollars in the bank at the end of the year, but no visions. The visions are definitely worth 500 bucks a year. Plus, I read somewhere online that most Americans get there antioxidents from coffee. So basically I'm spending 500 bucks a year on my mental and physical well being. That's a good investment, right? My new motto: Fuck vitamins, I drink coffee.

Anyway, when I got home from work on Wednesday morning I started starring at my template, so I could turn my vision in to a reality. About five minutes later, I knew the only answer was to pull a Birdman, and ask Ms. Tuesday for help. So I sent Tuesday an e-mail begging her on my knees as I typed, asking her if she could modify my home page per my vision. She said yes and was very gracious about my request. It's not like Tuesday has a husband or a full time job, and a new house to put together. Nope, she just sits at home and waits for me and the Birdman to ask her for help with our blogs. I thought it was going to take her at least a couple of days to get around to doing it, but when I got home from Thanksgiving last night, everything that I asked for was finished. I almost wet myself, I was so excited. Thank you Ms. Tuesday, but like the song goes, "We've only just begun".

I'm very excited about the direction in which my vision is heading. I'm particularly fond of the Secret Origins thing. I spent a couple of hours trying to edit those posts, because when I first started this blog all those months ago, my writing was extremely rough. Now it's only semi-rough. It has a grit rating of 3 for all of you who are familiar with sandpaper.

All Star Squadron is my favorite comic book of all time, and the cover of issue number 1 is amazing. I think this comic is worth a buck fifty in mint condition. All Star Squadron takes place during World War 2. I think you will find this link very informative and fascinating.

One last thing, It would really be in your best interest to read the title of this post in a British accent, or is it Australian? I forget.

Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread

Thanksgiving is probably my favorite of all the holidays that I celebrate in earnest. As a stone-cold atheist (and avowed racist), it appeals to me on many levels. I like the idea of a holiday that centers around family not God, home not Church (or Mosque or Temple), and being thankful not worshipful. There's also the delicious home-cooked food, the opportunity to spend time with close family, and the old fashioned appeal of bundling up in some nice winter clothing. Those of you from states without cold seasons generally can't appreciate that last reason, which is why I find your cultures to be soulless, empty, sun-worshipping, and selfish.

But I digress.

Normally the Clan Six would enjoy a lively meal at one of our parents' homes (both Mrs. Six and I live in the same town as our parents). This year, however, is special. This year, we will be traveling, on the busiest travel day of the year, to my absolute, positive, most-favoritest place - EVAR! That's right! The most pointless state in the Union - Connecticut! The Constitution State! Where the Constitution was neither written nor first ratified!

Gentle reader, I know you now must be pondering why I would subject myself to such abject torture as spending my favorite holiday with a bunch of nutmeggers, eating their inferior foods and listening to their feeble attempts at topical conversation (which depart their mouths sounding more akin to clicks and whistles than to the dulcet tones you and I produce). Your question is a fair and balanced one, deserving of an answer.

It's because I will be spending the evening with this kid.

This is sure to be one of best Thanksgivings, ever.

Amen.

Thanksgiving

Most people recognize Thanksgiving as the official start of the holiday season. For me, the holiday season starts in March when I go to get my trout stamp for fishing. On the bottom of my stamp there's a little note that says, This Stamp doubles as the official start of the holiday season for Captain Corky, and it lasts until sometime in Janurary.

Due to the nature of the company that I work for, it's impossible for me to go home for what you people call the holidays. My company makes so much money from November to December that each and every employee is mandated to wear an ankle bracelet that doesn't permit us to go outside of a 10 mile radius from work. It's been 7 years since I've been home for the Holidays (this is the part of the post where you start to cry for Corky).

Here is a list of all the things I miss about Thanksgiving from years past:

1. Baking bread with my mother.
2. Driving to rest stops on the Garden State Parkway with Mike Platt, KJR, The Apologist and company.
3. John Madden and Pat Summerall calling football games (Say what you will about Madden, but Thanksgiving football has never been the same for me since he went to ABC and then NBC).
4. The lies that we told ourselves about going into the city to watch the parade. One day I will realize my life's dream and I will help hold a balloon. I have foreseen this to be true.

That's about all the reminiscing I do on Thanksgiving. Obviously, I'm grateful to be making new traditions with the love of my life. Here is my list of new traditions with Allyson:

1. Waking up and making cinnamon rolls and coffee for breakfast.
2. Watching about 10 minutes of the first football game and then cooking for Thanksgiving with Allyson before we go to my inlaws.
3. Lying to Allyson by saying that I'm going to wake up at 8:00am to watch the parade.
4. A new tradition starting at 8:00 pm on the NFL network. Watching the Chiefs beat the Broncos at Arrowhead.
5. Drinking Manischewitz wine with my father inlaw on all holidays, but I'm talking about Thanksgiving here.
6. Listening to Al (my father inlaw) apologize to the Lord for my inability to say grace.

I am extremely grateful this year. It's been one of the best years of my life.
Have a great Thanksgiving everyone!

Move over Jesus, Star Trek is on!

Star Trek has pretty much been the model that I have always lived my life by. At times I have looked to other places for answers, like self help groups, cults and religion, but ultimately Star Trek has always had the answers for me.

Take my job for instance: I work in office with a handful of people, I sit in front of a computer that makes all sorts of bizarre sounds and I don't even look up from the computer when I talk to the four other guys that work in the office with me. I work for a very conservative company that has a pretty strict dress code. We all where black shoes, khakis, and different color polo shirts. Did I mention that I only work with four other guys inside an office that can double as a bomb shelter if need be? Obviously, I make it a point to wear black pants and a green or yellow shirt as often as possible, but the reason why is our little secret.

Way before I started working for my current employer, I've always been smart enough to surround myself with people that I can trust with my life and that are smarter then me in some ways. Sometimes I don't exactly see the world the way that other people see it, so it's always good to have friends like Willsix or the Grumbler around, so I can say things like, "What the fuck does that mean"? Anytime that I've ever needed to be pulled back from the Abyss (and I've needed to be pulled back more than once) it's the same handful of people saving Captain Corky from the great void. I'd like to think that I've been there for them as well.

I don't think it's really necessary to point out all the multi-cultural women that I've been with. No need to boast! Besides, my wife thinks that I was a virgin who lived in his parents basement all my life before we met. Let's keep it that way, shall we?

With all that said, I don't think you could exactly classify me as a Trekkie. I would agree that Star Trek and television have had a very positive influence in shaping my future, my destiny and my brain pattern, but I don't think you could call me Trekkie, unless Trekkies are extremely good looking, kick ass and are cool. If that's the case, then by all mean call me a Trekkie.

Tomorrows post: The first time I sought out a new civilization, fucked a green haired woman, and corrected the social imbalance in that civilization's society, all with in an hour, and in Technicolor.

PS I added some new links to the blog and have a few more that I need to add.

Stuck

Last night I took my wife on a very exciting date. We went to Meijer at about 12:30 am. Meijer is a store that falls somewhere between a Wal*Mart and a Target, not as filthy as a Wal*Mart but definitely not as upscale as Target. Had we planned our date earlier, chances are we would have opted to go to Target instead of Meijer.

I'm glad that we didn't plan our date earlier, because I would not have stumbled across the beautiful treasure I discovered displayed on the book shelf in this picture (incidentally, the gorgeous book shelf in this picture was purchased at Target for those of you that are interested). If you don't recognize the characters featured in this ornament then perhaps you can tell me what kind of drugs you're on, and where I can get some. The name of the ornament is Triple-Dog-Dare and the three characters standing at the flagpole are Schwartz, Flick and Ralphie.

Anyone who knows anything about buying Christmas tree ornaments is aware that you have to buy these things well before December 25th. My wife bought me a Hallmark ornament called The Transporter Chamber for my birthday and I'm pretty sure that it's just about impossible to get it at this point in time. The only issue I have with The Transporter Chamber is that Mr. Scott is standing with Kirk and Spock instead of Bones, but I'll live with it (more Star Trek for you guys, I know you can't get enough).

Anyway, I was so excited when I found Triple-Dog-Dare at Meijer that I wanted to leave Meijer immediately and mount my wife in the parking lot. Unfortunately she wasn't feeling my level of enthusiasm. We also found another ornament on display called A Major Award, but we couldn't find any boxes left. My wife was much more fond of that particular ornament.

I do realize that Thanksgiving hasn't even passed yet and I'm already talking about Christmas (Sorry, Darth Holiday Hater) but I just had to share my ornamental joy with all of you.

It's 4 a.m... do you know where your kids are?

If you ever need to get in touch with me the best time to call is at 4:00 a.m. There's a very strong possibility that I'll be sitting on the couch eating dinner and watching a movie like Bully. If you don't have any plans this weekend and have never seen this movie before I highly recommend that you rent it. It's a very disturbing flick. I didn't get a chance to see it from the beginning so I hope it will be on HBO this weekend so I can TiVo it.

I'm surprised that the Birdman never mentioned Bully to me, because it his sole responsibility in life is to keep me informed about stuff like this. This movie is very graphic and I don't recommend watching this one with the kiddies. It's basically about a bunch of fucked up kids and a couple of sociopaths. If you have any interest in watching this movie make sure to read the user comments on IMDB. Very informative. A lot of us can relate to being young, doing lots of drugs and being or feeling aimless. At least I know I can. I was aimless once.

For me, the first time I felt aimless was when I was a Boyscout (I know that sounds absurd but please continue reading). I was a Scout for two years. That means that I put the uniform on and that's as far as I progressed in the Boyscouts. Two years without earning a single merit badge. No elevation in rank. I came in as a scout and left as a scout. Here is a perfect example of why I never progressed in the Boyscouts, I had an opportunity to achieve a hiking merit badge on a camping trip that troop 20 went on somewhere in Pennsylvania. While the rest of the troupe went off hiking I stayed behind to fish. "You guys go on without me, I'll be alright". I'm pretty sure that Willsix was there for that adventure. Sounds pretty harmless, but at some point I started to worry about my failure to be a productive Boyscout.

Right around the same time of my experience with the Boyscouts of America I was also starting to experiment with cigarettes and stuff. We used to buy smokes for a quarter at the local Foodtown and then chain smoke the entire pack in the woods right behind the grocery store. I wasn't exactly hanging around with the honor roll at this point in my life if you know what I mean. I was turning into a real miscreant.

My life could have very easily turned out tragically just like the kids in Bully, but fortunately for me I was recruited into a Korean militia. An organization that I belonged to for many years where I achieved many successes. It also helped me put my deviant behavior on hold until after my brain had developed to a point where at least that behavior didn't completely destroy me.

If you dig deep into the archives of Corky's log I'm sure you'll find plenty of stories about my deviant life style and a few about the Korean militia as well, but I can't tell the whole story right here and now. What would I have to talk about tomorrow? Star Trek?

Came to Believe

Have you ever had one of those moments where you found yourself questing the existence of God or a higher power? Take January 27th 1991 for example, on that very day I was 99.9 percent positive that god did not exist. I was sitting in Kim Jong Ramone's living room as I watched Scott Norwood's field goal attempt go wide right. Still, to this day I can't watch the replay.

From that moment on up until two days ago there was never a question in my mind, god simply didn't exist. Nothing catastrophic happened in my life on Tuesday that opened my eyes and my heart to God. It's real simple, I was reading the comments on Steve Novak's blog on Tuesday and he informed me that Star Trek the animated series was being released on DVD at the end of this month. This month. Next week!

You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment! 22 episodes of Star Trek that I don't remember except for maybe one or two. After reading that comment on Novak's blog I felt a calm come over me that I've never known. For the first time in my life I was completely at peace with myself and the universe. As a matter of fact I almost came on myself.

Now that I'm sure there is a god, I don't have to waste any more time pondering that question. I've got bigger issues. Do I run out and buy Star Trek the Animated series on DVD Tuesday, or do I completely restructure my Christmas list that was completed in July, throwing my entire life in to a tail spin? I have no idea what the fuck I'm going to do. Help!

I could pray to God I suppose and ask him for guidance, but I don't want to burden him right now. He's got enough to do with Star Trek 11 coming out in 2008 and all. He's got to pull off the impossible, have someone other than William Shatner play the part of Captain Kirk... Nope, I'm not going to bother God right now.

This is way to much to think about. It's a good thing that TV Land is going to be playing a ton of Star Trek episodes this weekend. It will give me some time to clear my head and gain some perspective. Thank God for TV Land.

Day 3: Today is my third day on the patch. There is not much to tell because I just slapped today's patch on my back. It's a little itchy. I also just wrote an entire post that got erased because I didn't save it as I went along and fucking blogger made me sign back in when I went to publish the post. It's enough to drive anyone to smoke or in my case chew. Mother fuckers!

Day 2: I am actually surprised at how well Nicoderm CQ seems to be working. The worst time of the day seems to be at night for me. That's when my cravings are at there worst. At night and when I eat. My meals are anticlimactic because I want to stuff my mouth with copenhagen after every meal. Last night at work I drank 3 cups of coffee and sucked on a bag of Life Savors. Overrated fucking candy.

Day 1: Saturday was day one for me. About an hour or two after I quit using I decided to replace my addiction with a compulsive shopping disorder. My wife and I went to the trendy part of Louisville and I bought 50 bucks worth of comic books in a very cool comic book shop. It's funny going into comic book shops these days. I saw a father and son in the shop and the father was the one buying the comic books. After that we went and had lunch in a place that we've never eaten at. Apparently I'm a lot more spontaneous and adventurous when I'm not chewing tobacco.

In my Nicoderm CQ user's guide (which is about the size of a baseball card and now referred to as my bible) it says that I'm supposed to be on step 1 for 6 weeks. This has to be a scam and since now I'm an expert on quitting tobacco and it hasn't been that bad I'm going to step 2 next week. The bible also says that the first three to four days are the worst for cravings. The cravings have not been as bad as I envisioned them being but I have found myself trying to shove a comic book in between my cheek and gum once or twice.

I have also been having trouble adjusting back to my schedule. I blame this on KJR who wrote a very amusing post about me over on his blog. When I stayed with him I was getting up at 5:00 am and going to bed at 5:00 pm. Just like the squirrels, birds and my grandmother. Hopefully I will be back on track soon. Hope everyone had a good weekend.

Captain Corky Announces Retirement

Louisville, KY November 10, 2006 -Reports out of Kentucky have confirmed that Captain Corky has announced that after today he will no longer use any Tobacco products. The Captain has been a prolific Tobacco user since 1989, using such products as Newport, Marlboro, Skoal and Copenhagen (sometimes mixing and matching).

At a press conference that took place somewhere on route 70 in Ohio Corky said, "I've had a good long run and I'm very fortunate to be going out on the top of my game. There are things that I'm going to miss about using tobacco, specifically the ashtrays, the endless amount of plastic bottles ranging from water bottles to empty milk cartons, and of course the empty coke cans. Without them I could never have used tobacco inside in a civilized manor. I' m also going to miss the calming affect and the buzz. When I first started using, just like most people it was for social reasons, and the more "social" I became the more tobacco I used. A couple of cigarettes at a party in the summer on 1988 transformed into a two cans of Copenhagen habit a day in 2006. Don't ask me how that happened. It's not going to be easy and I know that I'm going to have to find something else to replace the void left in my life by quitting tobacco. Perhaps chess. I have some ideas that I have discussed with my wife. Anyway, as I said I know it's not going to be easy to walk away from the game and I kind of wish I could spend a couple of days in a padded room but It's time. Plus, I'll be saving close to 300 dollars a month, that's always a good thing."
This reporter will be staying on top of this story and remember our motto: Corky's log is the place to come for fair and unbalanced news.

Lunch Date

Yesterday I had lunch with an old friend of mine named Jenny. Back in the olden days I used to spend a lot of time at Jenny's house watching football, and hustling losers like KJR at pool. That seems like a lifetime ago. I think we used to punch Jenny in the arm a lot too. Mostly out of love but she didn't always see it that way.

I don't really get a chance to see her all that often considering that I live in Louisville and she lives in Morris county NJ. For those of you asking that's like 730 miles. So I was really excited when we made plans to have lunch.

When I got to the dinner(that's where people who live in NJ go to eat Lunch, but I'm not talking about The Dinner, just another dinner in a different town) I easily spotted her. She was in the back putting one of the cutest kids I've ever seen in a baby chair. Jenny was dressed very nice and looked good. Me? I was dressed like a bum, but that's how I roll. I'm a hooded sweat shirt type of person. Always have been, always will be.

Even though It had been a while since I saw her it didn't feel awkward at all seeing her and spending time with her. We didn't spend that much time talking about the past. We asked each other about a handful of people, and then we moved on to talk about more important things like this blog for example. I spent a good 20 minutes plugging blogger and trying to convince Jenny to start her own blog. It's not like I work for the bastards or anything but if you were listening to our conversation you would think that I did. Really I just think it's a very cool way to keep in touch with people on a daily basis and meet new friends as well. Plus, I like adding links to the log.

I also spent a good time picking Jenny's brain about Pregnancy, child birth and motherhood. It's fairly obvious that her son is going to play professional football when he grows up (every father's wet dream). I could also tell that Jenny was very happy raising her son. At the end of the lunch date she let me hold her son for a couple of minutes. That was awesome. I really enjoyed spending time with Jenny and her son and I'm looking forward to reading her blog.

I spent a lot of time around babies this past week. I spent three wonderful days with Jill and Will's beautiful daughter sylvie and then yesterday with Jenny and Justin. Have you ever felt like the good lord was trying to tell you something?

Zany

This is a picture of a small town in Ohio called Zanesville. The only thing I know from this town is a gas station right off of route 70. I took this picture right after I filled up my car on the way to NJ. If you click on the link I provided for Zanesville you will learn that Dan Patrick is from this town. There was also like 110 violent crimes committed in 2003 (I'm sure most of them were alcohol related).

I spend approximately 100 dollars a year in Zanesville buying gas, sunglasses, beef jerky and coffee. Also, I spend up to an hour and 20 minutes in Zanesville annually, so that makes me kind of like an authority on all that is Zanesville.

It looks like a nice wholesome place just judging from this snap shot. The only other thing a person like me has to use as a barometer when gauging a town such as Zanesville is the condition of the bathroom that I use when I'm passing through. There's a sign in the bathroom that says, "Please notify attendant if the bathroom needs attention". I guess I could say something to the attendant like "excuse me, the toilet seat is covered with urine, pubic hair and other stuff. It could definitely use some "attention". What are ya'all a bunch of fucking animals in Zanesville or something? Might I suggest you people try following the example of other small towns in America like Livingston NJ for example. The public bathrooms in that town are so exquisitely clean that you could eat your dinner off of the toilet seats." However, I'm not one of those assholes you see all to often, that screams at people who make minimum wage unless they fuck up and put onions on my burgers at those hamburger joints you see all over the country.

Still, I'm not going to judge the entire population (roughly 25,000) of Zanesville or the entire state of Ohio because one little bathroom is out of order. As a matter of fact it's probably all of the assholes that come from places like Louisville Kentucky that are the true perpetrators of these crimes against hygiene, except for me obviously.

To learn about other small towns in America click on this link provided for you by Captain Corky. I've got lots of fun storries about that town.

Candy nobody wants

When I think of the word candy the first thing that pops into my head is a butterscotch sucker. I don't even like them. The smell of butterscotch alone, is enough to make me gag and choke back my vomit. Butterscotch is just to damn rich for my blood. Never liked it, never will.

Around this week every year we have to start deciding what kind of candy were going to buy for tricker treators. Don't be that asshole that couldn't take a 5 minute detour out of your hectic schedule to buy a freaking bag of candy!

It's a major decision in my household every year. I always have to remind Allyson not to get anything with cocoanut in it. No Almond Joys or Mounds please. Truth is I'm probably the one who picks up the candy, and I can assure you it will be from Hershey. You can tell a lot about people from what they give out, and I don't want to be judged by the kind of Candy I give out so I play it safe and go with Hershey every year.

Just think back to your own experiences. Fuck you penny giver! After four hours of intense tricker treating the last thing you want to do is count out a $1.27 in change. Fuck you fruit giver! I'm not eating a piece of fruit from a strangers house... I've heard all the urban myths about razor blades and apples. Last but not least, fuck you evangelist. I certainly don't need to be reading the propaganda you through in my candy bag with a butterscotch button tied to it.
When I take my kids out tricker treating I'm going to take notes. We'll know what houses to avoid, that's for sure!

As for the trick part of Halloween I've never seen it pulled off successfully... I suppose I could invite all the tricker treators who come to my place in, and make them watch 5 minutes of Armageddon, that would definitly horrify them. It did me.

Baby it's cold outside

In the past two days the temperature has dropped like 20 degrees. Tonight's low for Louisville, KY is expected to be 34 degrees. The leaves are starting to change color and were already into the second Quarter of Football season. Autumn has officially arrived!

Tonight would be the ideal night to celebrate my love for Allyson. I can just picture it now... A nice little fire in the place that people put fires inside a home. Obviously a bottle of Merlot. Nothing under 10 bucks, only the best for my baby! I wouldn't even be to concerned with the vintage just as long as the wine gave me rosy cheeks and a warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach.

I think a Wilson Phillips CD would be a can't miss for an occasion such as this. Dimming the lights and sitting on the couch with our shoes off goes without saying. Gazing into each others eyes like we did all those many years ago, and then finally consummating the night by going into the bedroom, what a night that would make for. Unfortunately, romantic episodes like this only take place in my head and on Time Life infomercials.

The brutal dismal reality of tonight is that I have to work. No Wilson Phillips. No Merlot. Not even a fire in my imaginary fire place. Just me leaving the house and heading off to work in the cold and lonely night. As a matter of fact I don't even have a coat to wear.

I used to have a coat just like the one in the picture up above, but that was years ago long before I met Allyson . I'm sure some of you remember my green coat. During the 80's I lived in my beloved green coat. It had all sorts of pockets and it was really warm, and unlike my Time Life fantasy it was real.

Willsix used to make fun of me for wearing it all the time. I can remember passing him in the hall ways at school or eating lunch with him and listening to him berate the Kleenex stuffed pockets of that beautiful coat (I had pretty bad allergies due to leaf dust and chalk dust when I lived in NJ, hence the need for a box of Kleenex stuffed in the pockets of that green coat at all times).

As the years went by I had a couple of other coats that I liked. One from an Amoco gas station where I worked that had my first name stenciled on it. Corky. A couple of Buffalo Bills jackets. One was like a white poncho and the other one was blue with buttons. Both very nice jackets but nothing compared to the green dream. Last year I tried breaking in a new jacket but the first time that I wore it in NJ the Birdman called it a Triple Fat Goose. That's basically the last time I wore a jacket. Allyson tried to tell me that she didn't like the jacket either but she is a little more sensitive then the Birdman, and didn't put it so frankly.

With all of that said, I'm still very excited about the cold weather and the first night of Autumn and don't worry too much about Coatless Captain Corky, I have plenty of sweatshirts and a lot of very wonderful sweaters.

The Obsessive couple

Sometime in the mid 90's I moved out of my parents basement and into a bomb shelter in Bethesda Maryland with my friend the Grumbler. I think we paid about 800 dollars a month for rent in this apartment. Today I think they are selling for like 350,000.

This joint as far as apartments go was amazing. It had sound proof walls. The Grumbler and I used to get drunk and then blast his Bose CD player while we alternated CD's and played brooms standing on couches and tables at 1:00 am. It was a lot of fun (I heard that this was similar to a game that people used to play called band in the 80's). For the most part we never heard complaints from any of our neighbors about the amount of noise we made and we maid a lot of fucking noise. It was weird but cool. Another guy that used to live in the neighborhood named Logan used to come over and we would throw steak knives into the walls of the living room. Good stuff.

Obsession was the name of the game when we lived together. The Grumbler was practicing tae kwon do really hard, 6 or 7 hours a day. I would practice TKD sporadically, but I was doing a lot of drinking at this point in my life. Three cases of beer a week. When we weren't obsessing on our particular passions we were eating at very expensive restaurants like Ruth's Chris Steak House for example. For two people not making a whole lot of money I don't know how wise it was to spend all of our money at expensive restaurants. There were a couple of times when our money situation got so rough that we ate pancakes out of a box for like two weeks straight. I'm amazed that I can even eat a pancake today. There were times when I had to close my eyes, hold my nose and force those things down my throat.

When we weren't eating, drinking or practicing TKD we were watching military themed sitcoms. Hogans heroes and The Phil Silvers Show(my favorite military sitcom of all time). Both shows were brilliant. At the end of our very exhausting days it was nice to come home and watch a Hogans Heroes mini marathon.

From time to time we would have house guests that would stay for months at a time and not pay a dime in rent(cheap fucking bastards). They stayed in our walk in closet in the living room. Three of our favorite house guests include Skiver, C Fike and the Apologist who would eventually become our third room mate at our next destination. C Fike even set up a TV in the closet, I was impressed with his ingenuity. Good stuff.

To learn more about Captain Corky and his amazing friends, his incredible wife, and his extremely bizarre life, stay tuned for the next installment of Corky's log.

Pride

This has been one of the most emotionally draining weeks of my life and it's know where near being over! First on Tuesday night, Jeter goes 5 for 5. The game had a paralyzing affect on me, I couldn't move I was speechless, spellbound and drooling on myself. I finally felt the pride, that's the only way to explain it! I got it. I can't believe It took me this long. Why didn't anyone tell me? Then last night I was all prepared to play hooky from work so I could watch the second game. I had my peanuts and my crackerjacks and I was ready for another dose of the living legend but then the fucking rain came and washed all my pride away.

I was furious! I almost missed a night of work for this sport... All of a sudden I was 9 years old again and starring out the window watching the rain wash my baseball game away, helplessly.
This is the real reason why I'll never become a baseball fan, rained out games bring back to many painful child hood memory's of afternoons that could have been. I played the wrong sport when I was a kid.

Even though I'm not a real big fan of any sport that doesn't play in the rain, I do understand that Jeter will be classified with the greatest sports figures in American history. That's pretty impressive.

In my mind, Jeter's plugging a pack of Kools, timeless.

Captain Carpetbagger

Tonight at work I was training a guy who just moved to Louisville from Philadelphia. He told me that this was the first summer he didn't go down the shore to Wild Wood NJ. I could see the tears welling up in his eyes as he told me his sad tale, I'm just glad that he couldn't see mine. Never take the smell of the ocean for granted people!

As I was training him I decided not to tell him about the time that I called out sick because I was at an Elk convention in Wild Wood, NJ on my 3rd day of a new job. In that particular moment I used my better judgment, but I did wrestle around with the idea for about 15 minutes in my head, "Should I tell him or shouldn't I tell him"?

It's always a pleasant treat to meet someone else from the hood, ( Livingston and Philly might as well be around the corner from each other out here). This guy seemed pretty excited to be here and just to be alive for that matter. I can kind of understand where he's coming from. He didn't really have any prospects in Philly. Heck, he didn't even have his GED up until about two weeks ago and he happens to be married with three kids. Could you imagine living in Philly married with three kids and never having had a job that pays over 10 bucks an hour? That would suck ass. This kid is desperately hungry for a better life. He is currently working three jobs. Now he has an opportunity to turn his whole life around. It's really a heart warming story in the making. I wonder if we can get Mark Wahlberg to play this part too.

My move from DC to Louisville is really quite similar to the story of the kid from Philly that I just told you about. I was working in DC painting houses and I started to think about the custom chrome designs I was going to put on the Harley Davidson that I was fantasizing about buying, that's when the alarm went off, I needed a break from the blue collar life style that I had become so comfortable with. (Insert four years of history with a girl from Kentucky who was living in DC here) and off to Louisville I went. Two days after I got here, I was hired by the company I work for now. Three years after that I was married to Allyson, so obviously (voice of the birdman) there was a real reason for me coming here and if you don't buy into all that soul mate shit, I'm just a very lucky guy.

Why Kentucky?

There are lots of times when I find myself asking the same question that Ms. Tuesday asked me in the comment section of the previous post, "Why Kentucky Corky"?

It's funny Ms. Tuesday, I can't quite recall how I ended up here. There are a couple different theories floating around out there that I can share with you. Maybe it could shed some light on the subject for both of us.

Theory 1 is that I'm a fish. I was actually born in North Carolina and raised in NJ and every time that I have made a major life decision I find myself inexplicably living further and further into the south. For example when I was 24 I was living in my parents basement and realized that I needed to do something, anything different with my life. Fortunately at the time my friend, the Grumbler, was looking for a room mate and we had mutual friends in Washington DC so I decided to move down there with him, and just like that I was roughly 220 miles south of where I had been for the previous 21 years or so. Plenty of stories that I have yet to tell about my wonderful years in the District of Columbia.

Now that I live in Kentucky my mother says the reason I'm here is because I'm searching for my roots. There might be some truth to that. At this point I'm probably here to spawn. That's really why I compare myself to a fish. I know I can't go any deeper south than Louisville, sorry North Carolina. I have heard people from Georgia and Alabama call Louisville the north and that scares me, a lot.

Another theory is that I'm basically this centuries Moses. One night at work I was talking to a co worker/ bible thumper about a problem I can't remember if I was talking about myself or my hatred of all forms of organized religion, but somehow he wound up comparing me to Moses. I remember thinking to myself all this guy does is relate every moment of his life to some moment or character in the bible. For anyone that knows me a little, understands that I ran with this shit in my head for a couple of minutes. I can see it... The adoption thing the exodus thing. Instead of freeing the Jews maybe I'm here to free all the meth addicts. Don't really know what I'm here for, it's all really god's plan anyway.

I actually like living here sometimes, it's cheap and it's really good for my blood pressure and panic attacks. Plus if you've never played Bingo you haven't lived yet. Yes folks, I think me and Allyson own a bingo dauber.

I hope this helps you paint a little broader picture Ms Tuesday. For the rest of the story ask me next time.

lets talk about wood

Last night at work I was stewing. My department at work has been downsized from three people to one person in two weeks, me. For a couple of minutes I was irritated by this, but I'm over it for now. How did I get over it? I started thinking about wood. A commodity that the human race takes for granted just like water for example. Just about everyone on the planet takes wood for granted except for those Greenpeace tree hugging hippies, but what don't they cry about?

I started thinking about what a profound impact wood has had on my life. Take the first grade for example. Back when I was in the first grade, our classroom used to have a work bench with real tools. Every so often Jack would give me a scrap piece of wood to bring in to school so I could put nails in to it during recess. My grandfather Max bought tools obsessively. After he died my father inherited them and as a result you could probably build a house with the tools that my father has in his basement. When we got a bit older we used to make weapons with wood, some real, some fake. Bows, crossbows, nunchucks and fake guns were always on the menu. I was particularly fond of making a Mace for myself every now and then. What did we do with these weapon's? We swung them at each others heads of course.

As young boys become men they have a lot of aggression. How did we deal with that aggression? We destroyed a lot of trees. Throwing screwdrivers and hatchets into a tree was common place on my side of the tracks.

When I was 12 years old I started practicing Tae Kwon Do. Any test worth remembering always had board breaking involved with it. When an adult tests for black belt they have to break 16 pieces of wood, 3 different kicks with both legs. I had to take the black belt test three times. That's a lot of fucking wood.

As most of you students know, the more successful you become the more paper you have to waste. Every year my wife complains about the increase in the amount of pages she has to put in her papers. I don't know if I will ever get tired of adding pages to this blog, but then again this aint paper.

American Society pretty much judges success by how many stacks of green wood a person makes in a year. A lot of corporations waist thousands of trees a year printing out useless reports that tracks how much green paper is not made on a daily basis. At least that's what the company I work for does. I spend 5 hours a night correcting and researching the previous days missed green stack information, I'm rewarded every month with a very skimpy stack of my own for doing this.

I also like to watch wood burn. I am mesmorized by the warmth, the color and the sound. I like to listen to sap sizzle and crack while wood burns. Plus the warmth of a fire always enhances the buzz you get from an alcoholic beverage.

I apologize for not going into the specifics of diffrent kinds of wood but lets just say I'm partial to knotty pine. It makes for some great kindling. I'm currious, do any of you have a love/hate relationship with wood too?

TGIF?

When I was a kid I used to get up extremely early on Saturday mornings. Between 5:30 and 6:30. I would watch Davey and Goliath (when ever I catch it now, I force my wife watch it) and then I would have to wade through some really bad shit like Captain Kangaroo to get to the three or four shows that I waited with great anticipation to watch every week. Then at about 11:30 or 12:00 it was time to go outside or over to a friends house play. This was my program for many years.

Saturday has always been my favorite day of the week for one reason or another. For a couple of years in there I didn't get up until three or four pm on Saturdays. I can't recall the reason why I would sleep so late on a Saturday but I'm sure there is an explanation.

Today I usually get up around 5:30 or 6:00 am because I have a tendency to go to sleep early on Friday nights usually because of my work schedule.

I generally hate Sundays. I find them depressing. Always have, always will. The only exception to this rule is the 22 weeks of football season. Still, with my work schedule I get a constant nagging reminder in the back of my head that I have to be at work Sunday nights at 10:00 pm. With this said I still prefer football to be played on Sunday.

I don't mind Mondays at all because for me Mondays are Tuesdays. I hate when radio stations complain about Mondays. Is my life and my job so bad that I can't wait for the weekend? What's going to happen next time when I look up at the clock and I'm 50?

Tuesday and Thursday are essentially God's interpretation of Ford's interchangable parts or vice versa. If you don't believe me check any Hebrew School calendar. I don't mind either of these days of the week. Once a year on a Thursday in November I get to watch a parade, stuff my face and watch the Cowboys and then the Lions, and now thanks to NFL network a third game.

Wednesday is a great day. I spend most Wednesdays fantasizing about hitting the powerball. The current Jackpot is almost 200 million dollars. The only minute of the day that sucks is 10:59 pm, cause that's when I realize I didn't win. I'm usually over it by 11:01 because I realize that the Saturday drawing is only three days away. Plenty of time to start the dream process all over again.

That brings us to Friday. By Friday I'm fringin exhausted. I get home from work on Fridays at about 3:30 am and my weekend begins. Allyson is usually wiped out by Friday as well. A lot of time we go out to dinner on Friday night and sometimes we go to a movie or out for drinks or something.

Somewhere in between Saturday and Friday, I also manage to work, write , spend time with the love of my life, interact with people, watch TV, listen to music, and dream. I also manage to sleep sometimes a lot, sometimes not much at all. This is pretty much the pattern of my life. I do this roughly 52 times a year.

The House that Corky Built

This place? Most of us know from this place all of our lives. It looks a little different these days but trust me, its the same joint.

I keep this not so old photo around for a couple of reasons. One day I'm going to show it to my kids encase my parents decide to move. There is a lot of history there. I could dedicate this post just to talking about the front yard. Take the three biggest trees in this pic. I planted them when I was in the first grade.

Cindie and I used to go camping between to the two trees. There is a really cool creek that runs between our house and the white house. I used to catch crayfish and native brook trout in it. A lot of people call crayfish crawdads or crawfish but that shit doen't make any sense to me. IM sure some of you went camping there as well. Benny Cubbeta shot me in the ass with a bb gun in front of this house. Ihab Sali whipped me in the back with a completely fiber glass fishing pole. That fucking hurt, but I wish I still had that pole. It should be obvious to all of you by now that this was also a super hero training compound.

This house was also used to film the very famous documentary "Black Belts" starring the Apologist. We also built a lot of Igloos on the front of this lawn after a big snow storm. One thing I never understood was how the Eskimos put roofs on their Igloos. My father still has two of those snow block makers.

Over here we have a picture of Hazel Ave. In the 70's and 80's this street functioned as a football field, a racing park, and a battlefield to name just a few. If you never skinned your knee or cracked your head open on a street just like this one then I really have no use for you. I learned how to ride a bike on this street and fell quite a few times. The cool think about riding bikes back in those days was that kids didn't wear helmets. There were a lot of Big Wheel races on this street as well. Shooting out street lights with a bb gun or an arrow was always a good way to kill an afternoon on Hazel Ave.

The street has almost completely turned over since the days of you and me and I can tell you this for sure, most of the newcomers that live there are nothing like you and me. Besides the fact that they don't have personalities, the kids ride down the street with helmets on, what's that about? They stay in their own yards, the're not organized at all. I can't dig it. As i recall we owned this entire street and a couple of other ones for that matter.

Oh yeah, I drank a lot of beer and ate a shit load of hotdogs here too.

Corky Returns

First off I would like to thank my mother for sponsoring our vacation to Provincetown, Cape Cod. Without you none of this would have been possible.

I always knew I had a bit of Oscar Madison in me. I like to drink beer, I'm a bit of a slob, I like football and I too am a great beat writer. Who knew if you put a digital camera in my hand that I would turn out to be a pretty damn good Felix Unger as well!

Allyson and I took a lot of pictures when we were on vacation. I'm going to be featuring a boat load of them on the newest companion to the log, Shore Leave. My mother, Cindie, Nikki and the Funnel took a lot of great pics as well.

And of course I have a few tall tales to spin to you as well. It's great to be back, not in Louisville, I mean here on the bridge.

Round and Round

Is any body up for a trip to the Landmark?(we better hurry, last call is at 10:00 pm) Last night I dragged Kim Jong Ramone and Allyson to the Landmark, possibly the lamest bar in America. You'll never guess who we ran in to. If you used this picture to jar your memory, then you must have guessed it correctly. Rat! It was him, the kid who owned the fucking Mall. Remember him? I trapped Lou in to having a two hour catch up session with Rat. I'm sure Matt remembers his sister. If anyone can remember his first name Lou and I would greatly appreciate a quick refresher. Aquaman? Created in 1941, atler Ego Arthur Curry. Rat? I have no fucking idea what his first name is, no idea what year he graduated from Livingston high school. All I know is that the kid lived at the fucking Mall.

Before we went to the Mall, I mean the Landmark, we had dinner and met the former Alterna-teen. Very nice girl. I think she will fit in nicely. Doug and the former miss Alterna-teen got in to a nice heated conversation about the New York Yankees. We were comparing Roger Maris to Alex Rodriguez. What a bunch of bitches you Yankee fans are! Does every generation of Yankee fan have to have a Roger Maris? The guy is a good baseball player, most other teams in America would kill for this guy. But all Yankee fan does is piss and moan about the guy. Spoiled fucking children, that's what you are Yankee fan!

We ate at a great restaurant in Newark. Celine is now officially in charge of picking out restaurants. The steak was ok at this joint but the sea food was amazing. So unless your name is Matt you would have loved this place.

Allyson and I really enjoyed our first night of vacation. I'm still slightly cork-ified as we are about to leave for the trip. As my wife and my sister sleep, my father and mother are packing and I'm detoxing while I type.

Anybody up for a six hour ride with the real kid slim Corky? Did I mention that me and my sister(Cindie) are going fishing?

Flounder

Who does this kid think he is holding that fish on this here blog? Who invited you? Just kidding kid, anyone who is as enthusiastic about fishing as you are is welcome anytime.

The summer Fluke is the game I will be hunting next week. The state record in Mass is 21 pounds. I plan on cashing in some of my 15 minutes of fame, probably about 3 by catching a 25 pounder. I'm not sure if I'm going to catch the monster in the surf or on a fishing boat after downing about 3 beers which should give me the perfect buzz. I'll let you know sometime next week.

In other news Kim Jong Ramone has updated his blog. It's always a good time when KJR posts.

I'm sure I will have access to the internet while I'm up in Cape Cod but just encase please keep an eye on the log for me Will. I'm sure the Birdman will do the same.

"Have Bones and Lt. Allyson meet me in the transporter room, you have the bridge Mr. Six".

Holiday Road

Here is a picture of what me and my sister will be doing every day next week while your all at work. Next week I will be in Cape Cod. Were going on a family vacation. I can't remember the last time I went on a Swiss family Corky vacation. Even Jack will be there. My wife has made it clear that she is only up for one fishing trip. I have tried to explain to her that going out on a boat in the ocean to fish is as close as one gets to touching the hand of god on this planet, but she just won't buy into my usual brand of bullshit.

My mother has only two rules for the entire week, we have to go to her favorite show and she drives on the way up. Can you believe that, a woman driving while I'm in the car!?! Don't worry mom, your not going to have to drag me to the show. I'll go willingly. I'm sure I'll be willing to eat lobster and go to the beach a couple of times too.

The Funnel and the Younger will be making a special guest appearance during the week as well. I have not been this excited since Morey Amsterdam and Rose Marie guest stared on the Love Boat. This is going to be a fun vacation.

There is only one dilemma, I'm not sure if they will let me take my surf rod on as my one piece of carry on luggage for the flight up to NJ. My mother suggested that I ship it but I dropped the ball on that already, besides I don't trust anyone with my beloved surf rod that I bought in Cape cod that doubles as my cat fish pole here in KY. Oh I'm sure I'll figure it out, don't worry.

Still, were going to miss you Swiss family Willsix. Being in Province Town with out all of you is kind of like me, opening up your garage at 6:am, eating all of your Chef Boyardee and playing all of your sons video games while he sleeps. Meanwhile the two of you are at work and your daughter is at summer camp. All though it's lots of fun there still seems to be something wrong with this picture.

Now if only I can trick Jack into getting sauced a couple of times, then everything will be perfect.

WPIX

Do you remeber when WPIX and WNYW were the only games in town? I have made a list of the 5 best New York based sitcoms of all time. I hope you enjoyed these shows as much as I do, and please don't give me that crap that you had other interests. That gets so tired.

It's easy to say that Seinfeld is the funniest show of all time. It's the most contemporary show on my survey. I don't know if a network televison show ever made me laugh harder. I'm glad Newman made it to this picture. I love me some Newman.


All In The Family is clearly one of the most influential shows in the history of television. The show was brilliant for many years and the chemistry between the four main characters is almost unparalleled in any endeavor before or since. It was also one of the most innovative sitcoms. Before All In The Family you had Green Acres and Mayberry FDR starring Ken Berry.


The Honeymooners is the first show about the working class slob and his best friend and their wives. The network executives said that this show would never work. What do those idiots know? It scares me how much I behave like Ralph Kramden at times.

The Odd Couple is probably the weakest show on the survey. However in my opinion it deserves to be up there with the best of them. This is one of the few shows that I think was better then the film version unlike Mash for example. It was also a play. An honorable mention goes to Howard Cosell for his guest appearances playing himself. This show also had a very metropolitan feel to it.

I Love Lucy, if you love the sitcom like you say you do, then you have to love this show. It is the quintessential sitcom. The formula and most of the humor that you find in sitcoms today comes from this show. The most notable aspect of this show is that a woman had top billing and it was about an interracial couple, in 1951.

I would like to thank the Grumbler for the webpoll bit. Most of these shows can still be viewed on WPIX channel 11 in the tri-state area. I Love Lucy and All in the family played on channel 5 before cable. WPIX was also the home to Star Trek and the New York Yankees for a long time.

Pix, pix, pix...If you know what this means then you are ok in my book, if not ax Lou.

What is the best New York based sitcom of all time?
	Seinfeld
	All In The Family
	The Honeymooners
	The Odd Couple
	I Love Lucy
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Yet Another Fish Story

It seems that one of our friends has been shot with one of Cupid's arrows. I have to shamefully admit I was conspiring with a yenta just recently and I had to place a call before we could proceed. I think me and my yenta are too late, but I had to make sure.

Do you remember when you realized that you were hooked? Do you remember the conversations? You remember the warning signs, don't you? The conversations about family and friends. The little suprizes, the sex etc. I remember all of that from my point of view because I was there with me.

Every so often I like to hear the story from Allyson's point of view just to spice things up and ad a little flair, you know.
Usually when I ask her she just laughs at me. Maybe it's my presentation. I'll work on that.

Here's the thing, every once in a while when I least expect it Allyson will give me one piece of her vision of our story. It blows me away every time. It's kind of like the movie Big Fish, when Ewing McGregor is working at the circus for free to find out information about the woman his character marries. He has to do everything from cleaning up elephant shit to being shot out of cannon for one piece of information once a month. One of the best pieces Allyson dropped on me, she told me she had a dream. She told me about her dream almost a year after she had it. The woman is just full of suprises.

One day I'm going to pump all of you for your stories. I like stories. "I like the Wizard of Ozz, I like the Tin Man". (Sorry about that, I just can't help myself). Maybe it will be over a camp fire and we will all be drunk. Maybe you will post about it on this here blog. I don't know how or when but you will tell me, all of you. Besides I need the information for my upcoming epic: The Born Again Human.

In any case I wish my friend nothing but the best. Out of all of us he might deserve it the most. Just remember Aquaman I'm wearing a tux at your wedding, fuck Chet and all those other minnows. Just kidding Chet. Maybe I'm jumping the gun here, after all they have only been on three dates.

The most important story ever told: Part II

You know all those rumors and suspicions you have about gas station attendants? All true! So when your kids grow up don't let them get a part time job at the local fillin station, unless it's Christian owned and operated of course. Never trust a Jew.

When Jerry acquired his second gas station he made me assistant manager of the night shift. It was a lucky break. The extra quarter an hour came in handy. No longer did I have to give Kim Jong Ramone a ride home from school for 5 bucks a week.

Jerry's first Texaco was actualy on Mt. Pleasant Ave. That place had a fully functional garage. The place on Northfield had 3 empty bays with no visible windows. I'll get back to that in a second. When Jerry purchased the Northfield joint he got it for a song and dance. There was only one stipulation, the place came with a guy named Buddy.

Buddy is the all time single greatest petrolium dispatcher of all time. He won the coveted Pumper of the decade award twice, the only man to ever do so besides Vinnie over at the Amoco. Buddy could pump some gas, no joke. Buddy had a couple of tag lines. The first question he asked us every day, "If Jews are so smart how come they all drive BMW's and Mercedes"? The second question he asked us every day, "Where's the Jewish broad with the big tits"? refering to Abby. Buddy always asked this question with a visual enhancement. Me and Platt tried to explain the first question to Buddy many times but it just never sank in. So finally we took a page out of the masters playbook(bugs) and beat him to the punch .
"Hey Buddy how come ALL Jews drive BMW's and Mercedes"? Buddy, "Hey that's my line". True. Good old Buddy!

Texaco a house of ill repute? I don't know about all that but there was always something going on inside. A party every night with the most shady and seedy of Livingstons citizens, and of course Me, Lou, Doug, Matt, Bill, Dave, Gabriel and Platt were there too. I could go on but children read this blog and so does my mother.

"Oh hello officer, gee I must have dozed off in there. Pretty boring night. Need a pack of cigarettes or anything? Ok officer see you later". Cop, "good night Eddie".

Remembrances of Ogg Halls Past

This is charcoal rendition of the mighty Ogg Hall, where yours truly spent his freshman year of college at the mighty cold University of Wisconsin-Madison. The picture almost makes Ogg Hall look like a nice place to spend your first year of college. It is not. It is, in fact, a complete shithole.

There is an old tradition at the UW. This tradition entails getting very liquored up and standing in the blacktop quad next to Ogg Hall and screaming "Ogg Sucks!" at the top of one's lungs (it is also acceptable to scream "Ogg Sucks!" from your window if it faces the mighty Ogg Hall). When I first arrived at Ogg, I was sort of put off by this tradition. I mean, sure, the rooms were all doubles and seemed to be about 10' x 10'. And sure, someone was always breaking something, or throwing up on something, or passing out on something. And sure, there was no cable available in the dorm rooms, so you had to use the common rooms, which had only 1 TV and there was only 1 common room per every 2 floors. And sure, the foosball table was always broken...&c., &c., &c. But hey, at least it was co-ed.

Anyway, you get the picture. Pretty soon I was standing in the quad yelling "Ogg Sucks!", and standing right beside me was my roommate, Mikey P. Mike was just a good kid from a small, suburban town not entirely unlike my own - except that it was in Wisconsin. Our first night in Ogg we stayed up all night talking, and we became fast friends. Mike was skinny as a rail, drank Mountain Dew by the caseload, and had a tendency to avoid showering for way too many days in a row. But he was my boy, and we had a really, really good time in that fucking shithole dorm. They are knocking down Ogg Hall. It will soon be gone forever, enshrined only in the memories of shmoes like me and Mike, who had the distinct pleasure of being trapped in those tiny, crappy, institutional grey rooms our Freshman years.

Mike remained my roommate for all 5 years I spent at school. We had other roomies, but the last two years it was just me and Mike, hanging out and doing our thing. Despite the fact that I was a major fuck up for my first 3 years of school, I still managed to graduate before him (the fact that he double-majored in Zoology and Paleontology had a lot to do with that little feat), and the day I packed up my 12 year old Celica and drove out of Madison was about the saddest I'd ever seen Mike. Me? I was ecstatic. I was done with school, ready to move on with my life. From my perspective, Mike and I had already spent entirely too much time together and we both needed to get out into the world.

I should preface this last part by noting that I am a terrible keeper-in-toucher. I don't initiate calls or e-mails or letters and overall I am basically a bastard. I don't know why, I just let things slide. Then, I feel shitty and try to track people down, but by then it's almost always assuredly too late. So, sure enough, after spending a couple of years calling me up on the phone to see how I was doing, Mike gave up trying to keep in touch with me. I think it was when he didn't respond to my wedding invitation or call me after 9/11 happened that I finally got the picture. I felt bad about it. I still do. So, in honor of my long lost friend Mikey P. (and as a direct corollary to Captain Corky's prior post about the past lepers of our lives), I'm dedicating my first-ever blog post to him. He was a good friend and a strongly positive influence on my life back when I was a very lost soul. I owe him a lot, and he deserved better from me.

So, Mike, wherever you are, this one's for you, you magnificent bastard:

Carbs

Last night at work I felt unusually good. I had that feeling that I usually get when I'm really excited. Like when I'm about to take a trip, or go on vacation or something. Now I do admit that I received a couple of nice checks yesterday, but not enough money to make me feel like it was Christmas morning. What was it I wondered. Then I pieced it together, I had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. I love me some me after a big plate of meatballs and spaghetti.

I have been on one of those annoying diets again. You know the kind, brown rice instead of white, water instead of coke, and lots and lots of coffee. It is nice to be able to breathe again, and I have to admit I did lose some psi in the tire around my waist, but a couple of hours after eating that wonderful plate of spaghetti and meatballs I felt super charged. I am going to stay on my diet, but I don't see anything wrong with giving myself a nice little treat once every two weeks or so.

While I was buzzing around work being the busy bee that they try to turn me into, I so desperately wanted to have a Corky moment. I wanted to pretend I was a bee hovering around a flower gathering nectar. Busy busy busy! I'm sure ya'all would have appreciated it.

Now that I have audio blogger and I'm becoming more Internet savvy, I'm on my way to making one of my dreams into a reality. One day I'm going to create a short documentary about the company I work for. It's going to be called Money. Its going to be one of those old style cartoons. You know the ones where the characters sing opera as they dance while the short epic moves along. The characters are going to be solid black and chain linked. The only word spoken in the piece will be money. Its a work in progress, but I have allready recieved an Oscar for best animated short, at least in my mind. You should have been there, It was glorious.

Post Pyrotechnic Depression

Freddy: Hello Corky, It's me fred. What did I miss?

Corky: Nothing really Freddy, we just practiced slide side kick.

Freddy: Is Mike mad at me? Tell him I'm sorry. My pain in the ass sister had to go to a swim meet.

Corky: I doubt he noticed Freddy, he was too busy relating the fall of Rome to a side kick.

This is an example of an abbreviated conversation between me and Freddy Flesh circa 1989.

So what did I miss? Sorry I couldn't make it to any of your barbeques but my pain in the ass customer is having a party on Saturday. I had to make sure to get his house ready for him so he could show it off to his pain in the ass relatives and friends. Also, the pain in the ass company that I work for denied my discretionary days because my pain in the ass boss is off this week. I hope you guys aren't mad at me.

I want the goods on Kim Jong Ramone's situation. Also how is Brett and the rest of the gang? Fill me in! And now a little poem I found:

As he watched the smoke dissipate into the night sky
The poor boy started to cry
He knew that tomorrow was the hardest day of the year
He could feel the pain sharpen with each and every tear
The dread of having to clean up the backyard made his heart burn
When oh when will this stupid boy ever learn?
The sight of the war-torn hot dog laying in the dirt, the inedible.
The hardest part was yet to come
His heart pounding harder like the ever clique drum
When he got close enough he closed his eyes
In his usual manner he told himself lies
Next year if they don't finish all the beer
It will be the sound of my baseball bat that will be ringing in their ear

ooh and aah and all that shit

Where is the best place you ever watched a fireworks display?

Fireworks are legal in Indiana which is only a hop, skip and a jump from where I live. So for the next week I will have to listen to people light off block busters in my parking lot.

My wife is a big fan of the Thunder Over Louisville display, Its the biggest one in this part of the country. It kicks off the Kentucky Derby Festival every year. It does nothing for me. I associate fireworks with patriotism not Barn Swallow reindeer games.

My friend's Doug and Celine, who have been married almost a year already, host an annul 4th of July barbeque that climaxes with an amazing view up on a roof of three simultaneous firework displays over New York City. This display will have you whistling the Star Spangled Banner every time, even if your a pinko- commie-atheist meathead.

That leades us the Captiol of all firework displays. Washington DC of course. Hands down it's is the best. First of all you can spend all day down at the mall protesting anything and everything you want. There are tons of bands to listen too as well. When I lived in DC even I personally participated in one or two of these protests. There is nothing, nothing more mesmerizing then watching the pretty lights and loud bangs over the Washington Monument. It's also alot of fun to stagger back to the Metro for the ride home.

Public Service Announcement: Please be responsible when setting off Jumping Jacks at a summer camp. First of all it's lame to set off Jumping Jacks during the day because you can't see the pretty colors. More importantly, never set off Jumping Jacks into a field of dead grass or you could be putting out a fire with the top half of your Tae Kwon Do uniform. And Finally as a result of lighting off fireworks at a summer camp, Its most likely gonna be you who gets loaded into the cannon and fired next.

Dream Girl

Here's a picture of our favorite Captain holding LT. Uhura right before TV's legendary first interracial kiss on the Star Trek episode, Plato's Stepchildren.


Before I proceed with this character profile I must apologize to all the women who read this blog. I'm sorry ladies, I'm taken. Sadly there is only one of me to go around. Well, I'm sure your happy with what's his name anyway.

As if you didn't know, I'm very fond of talking about all the great times we had as kids. My wife is so familiar with my big fish stories that she could probably tell most of them. I don't know as much about my wife's childhood. I know some of her friends, and that she danced for many years and spent a lot of time in Texas, where her dad is from. However, my wife did not grow up in the utopia, that's about to shut down in a couple of days, like I did. There were drive by shootings in the neighborhood where she lived when she was a little girl. So playing outside for endless hours probably wouldn't have been such a good idea for her. So, sometimes I feel a little guilty talking about my childhood with her. Everytime I tell her that she laughs at me and says, "No you don't".

Eventually Allyson moved out of that neighborhood and grew up. She went to about 10 different colleges until she settled down at the University of Louisville. That's where she met her best friend Erica who is also an English major/nerd. The both of them are also super scary liberal communists as well, but that too is a post for another day. To save money she moved in with this girl we affectionately call the beast. The beast is one scary chick. I'll tell you more about the beast next time but lets just say the beast is one scary chick. During that same time period she worked at the beloved company that I work for. That's where we met. I think I was one of the first people that trained her. I always got her and her friend Mary confused. So every time I talked to one of them I would say, "Hello Mary" and she would say, "No I'm Allyson with a Y" and I would say, "that's funny my sister Cindie spells her name with an ie instead of a Y." Not really but I probably thought it.

Anyway a couple of months went by at work and finally I started supervising Allyson. She was a great worker, but she called out, way to much. You would too if you were working two jobs and going to school. So finally one day I went up to her and said, "Allyson could you please stop calling out?" and she did. Here is where it all began.

One time Allyson got pasted with about 700 of those things we service at the place where I work. One of the few times I didn't react with good sense, I told her she could handle it. Her work area got destroyed and she was almost buried alive. She did not speak to me the next day. I really didn't think much of it. Three weeks went by and she was still not speaking to me. That's when I asked her if she was ever going to speak to me again. She did not answer me. As I walked away from her this thought entered my mind, "This bitch is pulling the bicycle bit on me!" That when I went up to her and apologized, almost on my hands and knees. From that moment on I took a proactive stance to any concerns that she had at work.

As time went by we started spending time together after work, eating breakfast and talking and laughing. This was right about the time I was ending a relationship with that other girl. You know I love everything about Christmas, but that year was a rough one. Luckily I spent that Christmas eve with Allyson and she bought me presents and everything. I think I made her watch Its a wonderful life, and now its one of her favorite movies too.

We spent the next year getting to know each other but first we felt it best to move in together. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it was always blissful, but when it came down to it, and it did, we really loved each other. I think the most important thing I ever said to Allyson, more than every time I ever told her I loved her is that she is my best friend. We have learned so much from each other. I have learned an appreciation for writing and even reading at times. Allyson now blurts out Idioms that make no sense to anyone but me and you, such is love. I think we have a very healthy marriage and we communicate very well, too bad she doesn't cook and clean(kidding baby). I also think the both of us might be border line agoraphobics, but who wants to leave the house anyway.

In August, "next month Allyson", she starts teaching English 101 at U of L. You can see the difference in the way I write from my first post to now, and she has only helped me a couple of times. Really I have more than I ever expected for myself(outside of flying and being able to bench press a mountain that is). But I'm very lucky to have a woman care about me and love me the way that Allyson does.