I am the classic example of the “male bonder” – a gregarious beast who seeks the accompaniment of other male beasts as we sit around and do the things that male bonding beasts do.

Last night I attended my cigar club, the Metropolitan Society www.metrocigar.com , in Fairfield New Jersey. The place is simply the ultimate male bonding ecosystem – two plasma screens, pool table, card tables, cigar lockers, the works. We have the NFL package so we watched the Packers play Dallas while a bunch of Rutgers alums saw the Scarlet Knights blow a big lead to Louisville. But inconsequential to what was happening on the tube (which is no longer a tube), we were men – in all our glory – bonding, as men do best.

And the conversation was scintillating as one would expect in a room laden with testosterone, libations, and finely aged tobacco, “Dallas f@#king sucks…How is that Montecristo Platinum? www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm …Anybody need a hit of scotch?…There’s half a pizza left over there if anybody wants it…Oh shit, Farve is hurt…Did you know that Romo’s longtime girlfriend left him the week before he replaced Bledsoe?…Hey Z, this Chicken, bacon, ranch wrap is friggin good…Dayum, this maduro www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm kicks some serious ass…Who’s Amstel is this in the ice machine?…We’re having a game of Hold ‘Em tomorrow night if you can make it…God damn it that friggin Romo is a h@m@!…Who’s got a cutter?…Rangers finally beat the Islanders…I’m ordering more food, who wants something?…That was NOT pass interference you asshole!…You Christmas shop yet? Yeah I know, f@#k that…Hey I saw them CAO Flavourette www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm chicks at JR and they were friggin smokin’!…Since when did the refs start wearing black pants?…What the hell, I thought Rutgers was winning?…Hey Zman, heard you on Ron and Fez – I tried calling in but when I said I knew you, they hung up on me…Anybody got a can of butane?…When I was in Honduras, I smoked ten cigars a day…I just picked up a box of Cuban Counterfiets  www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm …Try a shot of this port, it’s outstanding… Holy crap – what’s the line gonna be in the Patriots vs. Jets game coming up?…Wasn’t Romo nailing Jessica Simpson?…What time you gotta get up tomorrow?… Wadda ya mean, it already is tomorrow…”

There’s a simplistic beauty in the way we boys interact when put into the ideal bonding situation. We play nice, enjoy each other’s company, yell at the tv if a game is on, or yell at a deck of cards if a game is on. We don’t get annoyed if you like another team, we offer to spring for the food when delivered instead of splitting it, and most of all we don’t try to solve the world’s problems. Sure we gripe about politicians, work, the price of gas, and how we still don’t understand our wives, but there’s a consensus amongst the group that there really is nothing we can do about it – so we snip another Cohiba www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm , pour another Goose, sit back in our chairs, and exhale a big buff of blue swirling smoke. To top it all off, there’s always one guy who sums it up best by saying, “What are ya gonna do, huh?”

We males are not complex beasts what so ever. Actually we’re quite the predictable creatures whose needs are pure and simple – burgers, cigars, big cans, hockey, pizza, war movies, vodka, round buns, steak, football, scotch, Arnold movies, more cigars, golf, hot wings, and did I mention big cans?

Hey ladies…we’re guys…half the population…we’ll never change, and you’re kinda stuck with us. And there’s really only one thing left to say…

“What are ya gonna do, huh?”

have a kick-ash weekend my awesome peeps,
Tommy Z.
JR CIGARS Blog With the Zman

I will state under oath that I am not a Scrooge, Grinch, or any other yuletide mythical meanie! I have always loved Christmas. I have kids and watching their faces light up is the best. I get to see relatives I love that I don’t see all year, I eat great food, and it’s colorful everywhere you look. I love nostalgia and this is most certainly the most nostalgic time of year. All the movies and TV specials… Charlie Brown, Dr. Suess’s Grinch, the classic stop motion animated Rudolph…and who could forget ol’ Ralphie in A Christmas Story? "An official Red Ryder carbine action two-hundred shot range model air rifle with a compass in the stock and this thing that tells time." Plus growing up in northern New Jersey it was cold but we actually played outside all day! There were snowball fights, sleigh riding on a Flexible Flyer, and playing hockey on the frozen ponds until we couldn’t see past our noses. Those are some pretty damned sweet memories.

So what could possibly be wrong with Christmas?

Remember Snoopy’s Dog House wining first prize? Remember Chuck and Linus only finding shiny aluminum trees? I don’t know if Charles Schultz is to blame for the early commercialization of Christmas, but the “holiday season” (as we now refer to it to appease the politically correct asswipes of the world) has gotten completely out of hand for the average citizen. We simply don’t have the time and we can’t afford it.

I first have to blame Madison Avenue, a culture I was part of for a good 20 years. How sick to your stomach do you get when the hubby has the $75,000 Lexus in the driveway with the gargantuan bow draping over the top –  and then the wife promises to love him forever? That goddamned ad makes the average shlub who doesn’t have a clue how he’s going to pay for the kid’s college and retire one day, feel like such a worthless piece of reindeer excrement. It’s truly painful. Then there’s a new ad where the couple is picking out the Xmas tree and the dude gives her an amazing hunk of diamond. The tree guy asks if it’s the “right one” and she falls into her beau’s arms stating emphatically that she has found the “right one.” What a load of horse hockey! If I sprung that on my wife she’d be like, “We can’t afford that – What did you do, win in Texas Hold ‘em? Take it back now!” Then I’d take it back and after Christmas she’ll whine and bitch how all her friends husbands got them beautiful jewelry (welcome to my world of whimsy.)  And of course, there are the toy and electronic game commercials that put your kids in a robotic stupor as they repeat over and over, “I want that… I want that…I want that!”

I agree with the suggestions from yesterday that exchanging gifts should be for the kids only. That right there is enough to set you back six months, anyway. (But if you’re low on cash – don’t worry – they’ve got these magical things called credit cards! Ever hear of them? It’s like not really paying at all!) Playstation 3 is $400 and one stinking game is sixty bills. Then of course there are the games that are all the rage like Guitar Hero 3 – spending an entire day visiting seven different stores to find who’s not out of it yet – then plop down a buck-fifty for the freakin thing! Plus you buy the kiddies all these video games and they don’t go outside to have snowball fights, ride the sled or play hockey. Why go out and brave the cold when the virtual world can bring all that they need?

Now this weekend it’s supposed to be around freezing and I’ve got to rattle around on the roof doing the Clark Griswald thing. Probably pick out a tree and wreath to set me back yet another Franklin. But at least I can have decorations if I want to. All these towns across America have to cater to the whims of the political correct dirtbags who make them remove manger scenes that have beautified the town hall for over 60 years. Schools must give equal time to dradle parties and Kwanza celebrations or there can be no mention of Christmas. Last year a school bus driver was ordered to remove his Santa hat because the child of an atheist parent complained – and wouldn’t you know it that those useless turds at the ACLU pushed the school to remove the hat. Nazis! F@#king Nazis every last one of them! And since Don Imus got canned, department store Santas best not say “Ho, ho, ho” to little girls anymore!

Worst of all, I think the store decorations now come out in July, the carols are playing, and football season hasn’t even started yet! And I’ve talked about the food in a few recent blogs. We eat like gorging rodents for over a month, pack on ten pounds, and crave a hunk of pie after every single meal. Then, just when we’re feeling like boated sacks of flubber, it’s HAPPY NEW YEAR! (BTW, it’s a fact that more suicides happen between Christmas and New Years’ than any other time of year. Jeez – go figure.)

I love my family a ton, but Christmas has without a doubt become “the most pain in the ass time of the year.” (That should be the new words for the carol.) But you see by what I just said that we are conditioned to feel guilty – like we don’t love our families if we don’t get them cool swag this time of year?!! Nostalgic, colorful, wonderful and merry, might need to be replaced with scammed, fried, politically correct, and deeper in-debt.

Holy crow, I do sound like the freaking Grinch. But that’s how I feel and after reading what I just wrote, it’s hard to deny these feelings. This was a longer little rant today, but filled with emotion that many of us are feeling. But, I do have one thing to ask…where in the name of God does baby Jesus fit in with all of this? Our values are spiraling down the porcelain throne as we speak.

The only thing I can suggest are the joyous gift of cigars. Click back to the home page and all your little Christmas dreams will be answered. And that’s a fact.

Later my Holiday Ho, Ho, hos,
Tommy Z.

I Think someone has to tell Simon Cowell that the loathsome Limey’s 15 minutes were up some time ago. The acerbic snot from American Idol, America’s Got Talent and a host of other reality swill is now going to produce a global competition entitled: The World’s Got Talent. People from across the globe will do their thing for a chance to win one million dollars (or 200 billion dracma.) Wow… one only wonders what enthralling talents other cultures will bring to the screen – fat drunken Irish granny’s step dancing, Icknad the Egyptian Comedian and his amazing Camel, Roofus, Austrailia’s top Steve Irwin Impersonator, and an actual jihadist beheading. Sassy Simon who makes 40 million a year just from American Idol is milking us for all he possibly can. I don’t say I blame him, but enough is enough from this bombastic, bloated, British, bastid. Cowell actually told the London Sun, “The planet has been crying out for a world talent competition.” Geez I thought the planet was crying out for peace and harmony, to replenish the rain forest, and to fix the depleted ozone layer…but – my bad.

I Think the bizarre mix of turkey, stuffing, vegetables and unusual side dishes on Thanksgiving has given me gas so putrid and indescribable that the government may want to consider bottling it to deter terror. For almost a week now I have been soiling my self and walking about in a methane induced stupor. My kids got a court order to remove me from the house and I now live in an empty refrigerator box near a stream. Thank God I can steal my neighbor’s wireless signal. Wow, this twisted dreck looks at more porn than I do.

I Think the older you get the more you really do start to detest the Christmas holiday. The fact that you HAVE TO spend so much of your time and the money you worked so hard for – as well as eat like a friggin sow for a month (see paragraph above) is just plain insanity. Rotten old Uncle Chaz who you always thought was just a filthbag and a curmudgeon now starts making some sense as you grow older…and wiser. Sure he’s still a filthbag, but his bitching about the holidays, and the old “When I was a kid,” routine all starts to make sense now. My son asked for Guitar Hero 3, a PSP, and an X-Box. That’s about $900 for three freakin’ gifts. I love my boy with all my heart but Uncle Chaz had the right idea…Tommy’s getting a rock and a stick and he’ll like it.

I Think I hate to admit this, but the Spice Girls who have gotten back together look extremely smoking hot. A little older and more mature, I was quite surprised when I saw a new video of them this weekend. Sporty sure don’t look like no guy, Scary is quite the contrary, and Ginger still has that rack of plenty. I think the name Spice Cougars may be more fitting. Rerrrrrrooooow!

I Think I’d like to thank Ron and Fez “very, very much” for having me infest their XM Satellite Radio show in Manhattan, yesterday. I was on for an hour and a half, got to plug my gigs as well as JR Christmas gifts items, and was treated like one of the gang – which was the biggest compliment of them all. It really is like being in a zoo when the show is live and I loved every second of it. What I was most impressed with was the timing and the rhythm that exists between Ron, Fez, Dave and Earl, and I had to learn that as the show moved along – a real trial by fire. The only downside to the whole experience was that freakin’ mooch Bennington had his entire fan base email me the day before, to remind me that “Ron loves cigars,” and I should bring some to him. About 3.2 million unread messages are now clogged in my in-box and Optimum Online is shut down for a week. Other than that, I can’t thank Ronnie enough for having me in. And – he says I’ll be back! Woo-hoo!

Ron Bennington is a very, very cool dude. If you don’t have XM Radio, then you’ll have to take my word for it. But if you are a devotee of the Ron and Fez Show, then you agree with me whole-heartedly. In the current Winter Edition Issue of Cigar Magazine I have written a feature story on Ron, who by the way is a true Bother of the Leaf in every sense. I found him to be quite savvy and intelligent (for a creepy bastid from Philadelphia) and thought it would be cool to dig a little further underneath that age defying ponytail.

The Ron and Fez show can be heard weekdays from 12 noon to 3pm, following Opie and Anthony on the Virus 202 on XM Satellite Radio. This afternoon I will be trekking down to the XM Studio in Manhattan to be a guest on the show – discussing everything from cigars, to this blog, to how political correctness is becoming a deadly enemy to this country of ours. It’s pretty cool – I interview Ronnie on today’s blog and he has my flatulent Polak ass on his show. (Is this staring to sound gay?)

So here’s part one to my interview with a guy who in my opinion, is a master behind the microphone.

TZ: Ronnie, your radio show is more popular than ever and XM Satellite has opened up a new world of fans across North America for you guys. There are even several Ron and Fez websites that are like their own little universe. There’s bulletin boards and chat rooms where the people who participate literally worship you as their God, and they are very sincere about that. Stern and Opie and Anthony have always had that same thing going on as well. What is that like having your very own little kingdom, this subculture where the fans are nuts for you and Fez?

RB: With the website stuff, and you’re going to find out from having your blog, you get a lot of feedback you never got before the web existed. It becomes, as you say, its own little universe. When the Ron and Fez website started about seven years ago – a website that we don’t own by the way, the fans own it – we planned some shindigs and all the fans came out to see us at the parties and we finally got to meet these people. But then a really weird thing started happening – they started planning parties without us. They would announce that they were throwing a Ron and Fez party but Ron and Fez wouldn’t be there. And at first we were like “What the hell is this all about? But you come to realize fairly quickly that you’re not in charge of that world. It really all about them – the fans – it’s not about you. And you can’t even take it as a positive or a negative. It is what it is.

TZ: But aren’t you guys the focal point, the glue that holds it all together?

RB: Well, yes and no. We are the reason they all got together, but they are individuals with a lot of other interests. In fact they probably talk about Ron and Fez less than anything else.

TZ: You’re right – it’s the same with the online Cigar forums. The members talk about everything under the sun, and probably talk about cigars the least. Cigars are just the conduit that brought the people together. So, in essence, you are a conduit.

RB: Which doesn’t make me a bad person.

TZ: Then let me ask you this – you’ve met some incredibly wonderful people in this Ron and Fez universe, people who you couldn’t thank enough for their love and devotion.

RB: Absolutely. For Thanksgiving we had a bunch of them up.

TZ: But on the flipside, you’ve met some ultra-psychos – weird dudes who are loyal fans, yet take their Prozac from Pez dispensers. How do you deal with those guys?

RB: With the real psychos, it’s best to just bring them in under the tent. Who’s to judge, ya know? Why turn a positive into negative energy? The reality of it is that everyone is different – and what are we still trying to do, set up the “cool” table in school? A lot of those guys will go to work for you and carry your flag into battle. I always feel like “who knows, this guy is in my life for a reason.”

TZ: So instead of turning them away, you embrace the looney bastards.

RB: Yeah, my philosophy is that everyone gets to sit at the table. It doesn’t mean that we all have to get along or agree. This is a dialogue, not a monologue.

TZ: You’ve explained the premise of your show as buddies sitting in a car for three hours just driving along and yakking about whatever comes up. You always keep things pretty eclectic and upbeat.

RB: I’m definitely not one of those radio guys that sits around and bitches and talks about my own personal shit like everyone should care about it. I try to mix it up and talk a little bit about everything. I try to find humor from a lot of different places and things, deliver it, and then see what kind of ride it takes me on for the next three hours.

Very cool stuff. Be ready for part two, and I’ll be chillin’ with Ronnie B and Fez Marie in NYC.

Til Tomorrow,
Tommy Z.

Tomorrow, Tuesday, November 27, Tommy Z. will be a featured guest on XM Satellite Radio’s highly rated comedy, talk-entertainment show, Ron & Fez.

The Zman wrote a nice feature story on R&F’s Ron Bennington in the Winter edition of Cigar Magazine, and now Ronnie returns the favor, allowing the stogie sucking Polak to yak about his new JR Blog, being a man’s man in today’s world of rampant metrosexuals, and Christmas gift ideas for the stogie lover in your life. If you don’t have XM Satellite, well we say it’s a damned good time to get it!

The Ron and Fez show can be heard weekdays from 12 – 3pm, directly after Opie and Anthony, on the Virus, XM 202. http://www.xmradio.com/onxm/channelpage.xmc?ch=202

And now back to our regularly scheduled blog…

Trump Unveils: Celebrity Apprentice

Good Lord, Mr. Hat-Hair is at it again, as this January the Trumpmeister will be hosting his seventh edition of The Apprentice, but this time entitled: Celebrity Apprentice. I admit that the Apprentice has always been one of the few reality shows that I’ve always enjoyed, but this one seems really quite weird. Fourteen celebs (and so-called celebs) will vie for the top prize of a quarter million bucks going to their favorite charity. 

OK, when they say celebrities, we’re not talking Brad Pit, Sean Connery, Julia Roberts or Paul McCartney. Let’s bring that down a notch…OK maybe a few dozen notches. NBC certainly reached way below the D list for such household names as Olympic Soft Ball pitcher, Jennie Finch, America’s Got Talent judge Piers Morgan, Ultimate Fighting Champion Tito Ortiz, country music star Trace Adkins, Olympic gymnastics gold medalist Nadia Comaneci, and Playboy Playmate of the Year Tiffany Fallon. At least Tiffany has a couple of major assets to bring into the boardroom.

Maybe the best-known celebrity on the list is the legendary bass player from KISS, Mr. Gene Simmons. This should be called Clash of the Megalomaniacs as Simmons gargantuan ego can rival The Donald’s any day of the week. While the man with the foot-long tongue may not be a billionaire, he certainly is one successfully wealthy son-of-a-bitch and in no way can be intimidated by Trump. Simmons is actually an astute businessman and I wouldn’t be surprised if he won this thing. But that boardroom may not be even remotely big enough for those two over-bloated, mastodon sized egos.

A rung down the ladder is Vincent Pastore, aka Big pussy from HBO’s, The Sopranos, who should get whacked pretty early on. Then there’s Stephen Baldwin who has done several lowbrow reality elimination shows, and ex-super model, Carol Alt. Whew…masterfully intriguing.

The most bizarre so-called celeb of all is The Apprentice’s own first year contestant, and queen of mean, Omarosa. Everybody hated this ballsy bitch who kicked, punched, slapped, and back-stabbed her way through season one. Originally chosen in the premiere for her high-level of intelligence, she made a fool of herself time and time again – even referring to one contestant as racist for using the term “Look who’s calling the kettle black.” Omarosa says she’s coming back for redemption. She’s such a pompous ass that even a clown like Al Sharpton wouldn’t hire her. Now that’s a pretty high-level of ass we’re talking about right there.

Rounding out the dazzling list of marquee names are boxer Lenox Lewis, Marilu Henner from the 80’s sitcom, Taxi, and Nely Galan, former head of the Telemundo Network. As I said, dazzling.

Trump actually told reporters that there were one hundred and twenty-five celebrity applicants – who according to the Donald were all begging to be on the show – and he had the arduous task of narrowing the list down to fourteen. Zman has the inside scoop that Trump had a terrible time having to cut the likes of the Gastineau Girls, Emo Phillips, Steve O, Fanny Flagg Jello Biafra, Wink Martindale, the Barbie Twins, Eric Cartman, and Brady Bunch Dog, Tiger . 

Hey NBC… You’re F@#kin’ Fired.

Later my Peeps,
Tommy Z.

JR CIGAR Blog With the Zman

I think it’s close to 1am and if I dare to lay down, the acid reflux from my Thanksgiving dinner will burn a huge hole in the back of my skull. It’s those goddamned desserts that nail the coffin for me. Then, after gorging all day, I’m sitting there at 10:30 pm watching March of the Penguins, eating ambrosia fruit salad. I try to justify my gluttony by telling my daughter that ambrosia is refreshing. The real reason is that I’m just lowly pig. And not for nothing, but those Penguins are just amazing. First Lemueix, then Jagr, now Sidney Crosby. How do they do it?

I think I did pretty damned good in my football picks (check yesterday’s column.) The Detroit Lions continued with their yearly tradition of “sucking the big one” on Thanksgiving day. Brett Farve had a hell of a day going 31 for 41 with 381 yards passing and three touchdowns. That dude is a warrior. The NY Jets however looked as expected as Eric Man-genius’s bunch got smash potatoed by the Cowboys. Hey, Green Bay vs. Dallas next Thursday night…THAT is a biggee for the NFL – even though ain’t nobody taking down the New England Patriots.

I think if I see Rachael Ray’s perky joker face on one more tv commercial or food box, I am going to hurl my Dunkin Munchkins. I worked in advertising for years and have always been annoyed at the way Madison Avenue jams celebs down our collective throats. At first she was somewhat cutesy when she was a relative unknown, but now the impish, flat chested clutz (who chef Anthony Bourdain referred to as a “bobblehead”) has become the Ugly Betty of the Food Network.

I think Frank Caliendo’s new show Frank TV just ain’t gonna make it. In my opinion, Frank is incredibly talented and funny, but after watching the premiere episode, I think maybe impression humor only has so much life and Frank may be better suited in smaller doses. When he has appeared on Letterman as an actual guest portraying George Bush or John Madden, to me those were clever and funny as all hell. But this sketch format thing seems forced and I think the writers did a crappy job at trying to make us laugh. Plus as good as he is at this type of comedy, he just isn’t a show host as he came across awkward and lacked timing. Too bad because he’s seems like a great guy who has worked very hard for this big break. You know what though – all kidding aside – I guarantee he’d be a killing in Vegas. Rich Little did and I thought his act was so damned contrived. Caliendo is very talented and will be successful, unfortunately, just not on Frank TV.

I think the Partagas Serie S Perfecto www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm and the JR Ultimate Belicoso Cablinet Oscuro www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm kicked ass and accompanied my gorging binge quite well, yesterday. My little niece said to me “Uncle Z, you know you stink. You shouldn’t smoke, you’re gonna die.” I asked where she learned that snippet of propaganda. She said, “Which one, the fact that you smell like burning garbage, or that you’re gonna croak?” Ah, those precious lil’ imps sure do say the darndest things.

I think it’s now 2:05 am and I’ve gotta get up at 6:30 for a Thanksgiving hockey tournament that my son is in. Gonna be a long tiring weekend…but I sure as hell wouldn’t trade it for anything.

See ya’ll on Monday…with some BIG NEWS…
Tommy Z.

Thanksgiving is by far America’s favorite holiday. There’s no depression or suicide or guilt, or having to spend tons of your hard earned dough. Just show up and eat like the Russians are coming!

It is however the worst travel time of the year as airlines get more fouled up than they already are with ten times the normal traffic. And then, tomorrow is Black Friday, the day that retailers hope to go into the “black”, and the official start of the Christmas shopping season.

For me, it’s about eating like it’s my last meal on the planet, family, football, and good cigars. Today in the New York area it will be in the low 60’s which means the stoags will be going at full velocity. It also means parades for the kiddies. And being in the NY metro area, we get access to a lot of cool stuff, including the Macy’s Parade, which I took my kids to once. It was pouring rain and 40 degrees, which was pretty freakin awful, but seeing that big Underdog, Snoopy, and Garfield in person is pretty special no matter how old you are. (Yes, the Zman is an admitted sentimental fag.)

Of course football rules the day as the Detroit Lions who always suck and traditionally lose on this day, have a nice team this year with John Kitna at the helm. But today they face the Green Bay Packers, and I’m sure Brett Farve may have something to say. I say Packers 24-20. Then Dallas faces the lowly NY Jets who just came off a monster upset over Pittsburgh on Sunday. Being a Giants fan, I loathe Terrell Owens and Romo the H@m@…(Sorry my pals from Texas, I’m know you feel the same about the Jints and Eli) but the Cowboys should romp some Green and White ass today. I say Dallas 34-17.

But hey… it’s really all about the food, ain’t it? It’s at my house today, and the in-laws are coming and there will be enough food to fill Yankee Stadium up to the second deck. There will be all kinds of bizzaro side dishes that require three round trips to have a sampling of everything, leaving room for about two measly slices of bird. I used to serve good wine on the holiday until my dad took a glass of Jordan Cab ’97 and put it up to the crushed icemaker on the fridge. From now on it’s boxed wine for the ingrates. (Sorry pops, I love you, but you are a Polak.)

Of course no matter how gorged you are like Monty Python’s Mr. Creosote in the Meaning of Life, you have to have a sampling of the array of decadent sweeties and desserts. Why in the name of God do we push ourselves like rabid animals?  I’m geting full just typing this damned blog!

And as far as the stoags go, not sure what I might dip into, today. I always like maduros after a hearty meal. Tough decision, but I’m narrowing to down to the Avo Classic Belicoso Maduro  www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm , the Camacho SLR Maduro www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm ,
the Nat Sherman Omerta www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm, or the Romeo Y Julieta Reserve Maduro www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm. Hell, why don’t I start now and have all four! Now your talking my language, brother!

For you swine that think this day is only about gluttony, pigskin, and Partagas  www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm, lets look what Wikipedia has to say about the origin of this fine day…

The early settlers of Plymouth Colony in Massachusetts were particularly grateful to Squanto, the Native American and former British slave who taught them how to both catch eel and grow corn and also served as their native interpreter. Without Squanto’s assistance, the settlers might not have survived in the New World. The Plymouth settlers (who came to be called "Pilgrims") set apart a holiday immediately after their first harvest in 1621. They held an autumn celebration of food, feasting, and praising God. The Governor of Plymouth invited Grand Sachem Massasoit and the Wampanoag people to join them in the feast. Evidence to support that claim came from diaries of Plymouth. The settlers fed and entertained the Native Americans for three days, at which point some of the Native Americans went into the forest, killed 5 deer, and gave them to the Governor as a gift.

Bet that fresh venison would have gone great with a glass of Sterling Cab and a La Aurora 1495! www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm Them redskins would have been livin’ large! Oh I’m sorry… for the politically correct who were offended by the term redskins – What I meant to say was “Kiss my fat Polak ass cheeks", and here’s the url you should be clicking on www.rosie.com.

Zman I am, Zman I am,
I do not like Hillary Rodham.

Do you like Hillary Rodham?
I do not like her, Zman I am – I do not like Hillary Rodham.

Would you like her here or there?
I would not like her here or there, I would not like her anywhere,
I do not like Hillary Rodham – I do not like her, Zman I am.

Would you like her as the Prez, or campaigning on Ron & Fez?
I would not like her as the Prez, I do not like that angry lez,
I would not like her here or there, she’s gonna f@#k up our healthcare.
I do not like Hillary Rodham – I do not like her, Zman I am.

Could you see her in the White House?
I could not see her in the White House, especially with that scumbag spouse.
We do not need another mess, like that fat intern’s stained blue dress.
I do not like Hillary Rodham – I do not like her, Zman I am.

Whitewater, Travelgate, Paula Jones, Slick Willie jumped her friggin bones.
With Monica he went to far, what a goddamned waste of a good cigar.
Like Tammy Wynette she stood by her man, denying that he slammed some ham.
To Hilde it was plain to see, the Republican conspiracy.

She moved to New York, cuz she’s rich, that carpet bagging wicked witch.
Her title is now Sen-a-tor, she voted for the Iraq war.
But no more troops will she now send, a f@#king lawyer to the end.
I do not like Hillary Rodham – I do not like her, Zman I am.

She’s cold and stiff, and full of lies, her answers are so damned contrived.
She claims she’s for the working class, with corporate profits up the ass.
Says she’s for the little guy, with toothy grin and beady eyes.
I do not trust her in the least, I do not trust the Hildebeast.

Scandals have rocked her whole life, especially as that horn-dog’s wife.
She had eight years to fix healthcare, but didn’t take it anywhere.
Semantics are just blatant lies, yes medicine she’ll socialize.
So will you take the evil bait, and vote for Hilde in 0-8’? 

I do not like her here or there, I’d rather vote Stephen Colbert.
I will not choose this scary witch, if she gets in then life’s a bitch.
Deplete armed forces, raise your tax, you must not vote this battleaxe.

I do not like Hillary Rodham –
I do not like her…

Zman, I am.

I will be posting tomorrow with a classic Turkey Day tale.
So stay tuned my buds.
Tommy Z.

Well, my wife calls me last Thursday, “I got four tickets to the Christmas show for FREE this Saturday!!! Isn’t that just great? WE can go for FREE!!! I can’t wait to tell the kids!”

Oh joy of joys.

Now my daughter is sixteen and it’s still somewhat nice for her (I guess), but my son Tommy is now twelve – the same kid who high-fived me all during the movie 300 every time a Persian head hit the dirt. Unfortunately, the Radio City Christmas Show Spectacular features no carnage, no slap shots, no land mines or anything of that sort. Just good old-fashioned 100% clean holiday fun.

And what’s this “FREE” thing my wife speaks of, pray tell? $25 bucks in gas, $35 to park, $200 for the French Steak House on 57th Street, a $5 bottle Poland Spring, and a bag of hot nuts off the street. Oh yea, and a $6 Romeo Julieta Habana Reserve www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm that I picked up at the cigar store on 6th Ave along the way that my wife refused to let me smoke because I would stink. I already do stink so what the f@#k is the difference?

It’s 40 degrees, the line is wrapped around the building, and they’re storming us through like cattle. It’s not even friggin Thanksgiving yet and Santas are all on the street and the carols are blaring away. Trust me, I’m no Scrooge and I always enjoy Christmas, but I’m rushing through the line, sweating like a jack-ass, and about to hurl a $31 prime cut of USDA beef all over an unsuspecting six year old girl in gaudy reindeer head dress.

We get inside the plush monstrosity of a lobby and my wife wants to take pictures of the kids for Christmas Cards in front of a nutcracker statue. Two dudes that are obviously quite light in the loafers thought they were before us and got all in a little huff. I said, “Listen, youz two will have plenty of time to do some nut cracking of your own later, so howz ‘bout letting the kids go first?” The apparent wife of the two says, “Well, OK, I mean it is Christmas.” And I’m like “It’s not even Thanksgiving yet for crissakes!”

“Gee, where’s our seats mom?” the kids ask with anticipation. Guaranteed – in the third mezzanine, ALL THE WAY at the top of three long, jigundous staircases, just below King Kong swatting at the World War One fighter planes. Jeez Louise, even Bob Ucker had better seats.

Just before the show starts, this family of about twenty Chinese people – young and old – move in front of us – coats bustling, packages banging, and grandma is complaining about some shit to her moron son, in Cantonese at a thousand words per second. Not only are they a freakin spectacle, for some godforsaken reason the whole lot of them stinks like mothballs. I mean what the hell is that all about? Tommy looks at me and whispers, “Holy crap, dad, these guys really stink. I’ll take your cigars any day.” Then out of no where, this old broad behind me kicks my seat really hard then cracks me in the skull with the pointy corner of her Sachs 5th Ave., bag! WTF?! She say’s, “Oh, I didn’t hit you, did I?”

“No, I have the stigmata and I always bleed like this.”

“Oh, OK, that’s nice,” she replied. Caring old bitch.

Finally… the show started and things calmed down. I will say looking at a set of 72 perfect gams ain’t so bad. But I swear Santa may have dipped into a good bottle of 18 year old before the show. The old coot seemed a bit off, and he also sounded exactly like Sean Connery in Hunt for Red October – “Mishta Ryan, this is my speshal Crishmish shub, and you’ll be taking orders from me!”

All in all, the show was actually Ok, the wife and kiddies enjoyed it, and my wallet was considerably lighter on the way home from enjoying our FREE tickets…

…AND IT’S NOT EVEN THANKSGIVING YET!!!

Later dudes,
Tommy Z

I think with Jihad lovin’ terrorists prancing around on our soil, massive corruption amongst our government officials, the outright avarice being committed by the oil companies, school shootings, child pornography, murders, rapes, and other heinous acts of injustice…Barry Bonds being indicted after a four year investigation for lying about taking steroids and looking at possible 30 years in prison is beyond asinine and a classic example of our hard earned tax payer dollars at work. People murder and rob and are out on the streets in no time, yet a guy who plays baseball and took performance enhancing drugs to make his game better – just like a thousand other guys have done in all the major sports – is looking at three decades in prison? Ya think our priorities are a tad out of kilter, people? Yes, I agree what he did was wrong and should be a punishable offense. But the Feds have spent fours years building this case for crissakes! This isn’t the leader of a cold-blooded crime syndicate…the CEO of Enron… or a president lying under oath about doodling a tubby intern. I don’t give a rat’s colon how much the collective consciousness hates Bonds for breaking a sacred record under the influence of super growth hormones – there is just no friggin way it can possibly justify the dollars spent trying to make an example of him in this incredibly transparent witch hunt.

I think the real crime is paying a man twenty-seven million dollars a year to play a child’s game. Alex Rodriguez has reportedly agreed to a ten-year deal worth 275 million dollars. Yes, he is a phenomenal ball player and had a spectacular season last year – but goddamn this boy just sucks ass and folds up his tent when it comes playoff time. There are guys out there trying to cure the world’s most horrible diseases, teachers in our schools forming the minds of our precious children, and incredibly brave young people risking their lives day in and day out in that god forsaken dessert… and a guy in striped pajamas who hits a ball with a stick makes more money than the gross national product of French Guiana. And if you really want to hurl your Fruit Loops, if you break down the numbers, this past season, A-Rod made $177,000 per game and $48,000 per at bat. Yo, Alex my amigo, I guess I have to admit, maybe you are worth all that money with all of those World Series rings you’ve earned. Wait a minute…say what?

I think Jennifer Lopez is kind of a skank with a great big massive butt – but for some peculiar reason I get warm in my belly when I think about it. 

I think the Burger King guy is the creepiest son of a bitch in the history of advertising icons. I actually avoid going to BK fearing that I might actually see that plastic headed troglodyte leering at my children. What the hell was their ad agency thinking with this guy? He is freakin’ scarier than Andy Dick at a Cub Scout pack meeting. And, just thought I’d ask – but do you know anyone who can actually eat a Triple Whopper? They should have a code blue unit on hand at every restaurant just in case some lumox scoffs one down with bacon and extra mayo. You know… that does sound pretty good actually…

I think If I could eliminate one person from any time in history so the world would be a better place, it would be Dr. Smith from Lost In Space. That guy was such a no-good prick. I don’t even think Osama Bin Laden could turn the Robot against Will Robinson. Bastid.

I think Fidel Castro has been dead for months and brother Ramon is champing at the bit to be the next culo in charge. Don’t these bozos want Edmundos to come to America? My sources tell me that I don’t have any sources.

I think the Partagas Cifuentes Diciembre www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm I torched up last night was one of the nicest change of pace cigars I’ve had in a long time. It’s a beautiful, brick-like box press, with a golden brown Honduran wrapper and a Nicaraguan binder and filler – Medium bodied and oh so tastey. Highly recommended by Sir Zman.

I think I want you to have a wonderful weekend my bloginators,
Tommy Z.