Tommy Z is a humorist who grew up in the bowels of New Jersey, parented by an eccentric Polish father
and a neurotic Italian mother. With that kind of upbringing, what else could this man possibly be other
than a humorist? Tom is also a well-known feature writer for Cigar Magazine and other national publications.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed on this site are strictly those of the Zman. The contents of this site have not been reviewed or approved by JRCigars.com.
Professional Chain Yankers
Today my peeps, we have ourselves a bona fide rant from yours truly. And guys, there’s no doubt that I’ll have plenty of back up from the blogosphere faithful on this one.
I Pose My Question:
Why do “most” (not all, I said most, so don’t anyone get their panties in a wad) local contractors, builders, landscapers, plumbers, masons, lawn care people, handyman fix-it guys NEVER-EVER show up when they say that they are going to? Whether it’s to look at a job, give a price quote, or commence the work, I am guestimating that 9 out of 10 of these guys are the worst business people to roam the earth and just never to stick to what they say they are going to do. And I know 9 out of 10 of you reading this have been through the agony of dealing with a local-yocal contractor and have your own stories of horror and disbelief.
These people live by their own code of ethics and it is often times deplorable. Getting me a price by Wednesday for the pavers in my drive and walkway MEANS getting me a price by Wednesday, for crissakes. It doesn’t mean that two weeks go by and then I have to leave you five messages on your answering machine and then you call me and tell me how f#$king busy you are. I don’t give a flying rat’s blowhole, Gomer – hire more people, then. When you say you’ll be by at 6pm last night to survey the landscaping I need – and I’m picking that time because I know my wife will be home so we can go over it together – and you don’t show or call - I shake my head KNOWING that the economy is getting worse everyday and I cannot freakin’ believe that business is that good where you can blow me off because this is the start of the busy season. Hey asshole, guess what? Keep this shit up and you’ll never experience another busy season again.
Last year a guy rings my door bell – he’s from one of those franchised lawn care companies with the word Green in their name. Catchy. He tells me my lawn looks like Patton’s tanks had rolled through and I agree, so I listen to his shpeal further. He gives me a price for monthly applications and I sign and it’s a done deal. The first visit will be within ten days. Four weeks pass, along with three phone calls by me (with a promise they’ll be there any day) and no one shows. Typical. Finally, after a month, a woman calls and says the guy will be out tomorrow and I tell her to cancel the service. I say I’m friggin annoyed as hell and to have her manager call me. Several days go by and the manager obviously lost his fingers in a mowing accident because I get no call back. Assholes. So I do something I NEVER do – I call their corporate office in the mid-west and throw these local f@#kers under the bus, then back up and go forward a few times for good measure. The woman on the other end is most concerned and not happy with the lack of respect I have been dealt. I tell her that all I want is a phone call from the manager. Maybe he’ll do me right and offer a better price or throw in something free (and you know how much people love “FREE” shit, by now!) She says she will MAKE SURE that he calls me.
Right.
Three days later – no call, but my door bell rings. It’s some toothless goober in a gray jumpsuit acting all chipper, “Here ta do yer lawn, my friend!” I’m like, “Who the hell sent you? I cancelled the service.”
“I was told you were our top priority for the day and to get here first thing.”
I was not happy. I don’t get a manager’s call but instead they send a rep from the Mayberry RFD affiliate. GOD DAMMIT! “How come I wasn’t your top priority four weeks ago, Clem?”
He lifts his cap and scratches his flaky scalp as the stench of Marlboro barely masks the scent of last night’s Jack and Coke run. “Don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout that, but we aim ta please.”
“Well then please get your ass off my lawn and tell your manager to call me so I can tear him a new place to excrete waste from! You got that, Grady?”
“Now, that ain’t right,” he exclaims with a sorry look. “I came all the way out here to take care of you (from Mount Pilot, no doubt) and I’m doin’ yer lawn, Mister.”
I lost it. “Get the F@#K off my lawn before I stick that hose up your ass and give you a chemical enema!” (That would hurt like hell, but he’d never have weeds in his shitter.) “You touch my lawn and I’ll light your face on fire then put it out with a pitchfork you redneck son of a bitch!”
“If that’s the way yer gonna be. Expect a bill in the mail”
“Expect THIS!” I screamed as grabbed my manly package through my shorts and flung my middle finger up high towards the heavens. I wished so much that I had a large dog to sick on the guy, but instead I threw a McDonald’s cup at his truck.
Wow. I admit I acted like a roaring jackass, as my kids watched their daddy almost get taken to jail, but god damn if that didn’t feel so right.
Guys – why don’t the people in these professions care? Money is tight everywhere and many of us are cutting out the things we once paid to have pros to do. I owned an ad agency with corporate clients for 20 years. If I pulled this garbage, I would have been out of business so damned fast. If say a local pizza place had poor service and crappy food, they’d be shutting the doors in two weeks, yet these yahoos just don’t care. Could any of you keep your job if you displayed this type of business acumen? Three years ago we needed a retaining wall for our driveway pretty bad. The contractor dropped off some material on the front lawn, I gave him a check for half the job, then he didn’t show up for two months. I got his home number and left ten messages on his machine every day for a week. The point was to drive him and his family completely batshit. Finally his wife calls me and apologizes from her heart, telling me business is terrible, they need the money desperately, and she was going to break his f-ing arms if he didn’t get his ass out of his fishin’ boat and to my house. The next day he showed up all smiles and liquor breath (a common trait) and acts like nothing ever happened. And the kick in the ass is that he did A+ work, I mean tops. And many of these guys do, but it’s not the work that’s the problem – it’s getting them behind the wheels of their F-150’s that they need to work on.
Two days ago that damned landscaper PROMISED me, “Thursday, 6pm sharp, Tommy.” And my wife said, “You know he’s not coming.” But I like this kid. I wanted to believe. I needed to believe. But of course, I got shit on again from the local yocal laborer who thinks he’s a businessman because the magnetic sign on his truck door says so. This morning I went out to get coffee and drove right by is house as he was loading up his gear for the day. He waved and motioned for me to stop but I just kept on driving. F him. F everybody. I’ve now worked myself up into a lather and feel the need to kick something. Good thing I don’t have that dog I was gonna sick on the lawn guy.
And yet another shot at the a-holes from PETA. How much further can I take this bit?
A Great Weekend to all my loyal dudes,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
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JR Weekly Special: Back By Popular Demand -
The Herf Deluxe... HERF in a Box!
Valid thru Midnight, Wednesday, May 21, 2008, while supplies last.
http://www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm?page=weekly_specials
The HERF is back and better than ever!
This is a great new selection of TWENTY super-hefty, medium to full bodied handmade cigars from some of the most popular top-premium brands. Each cigar is between 4 ½ and 7 inches long and between a 48 and 54 ring gauge.
Here are the brands represented in every single box:
Bolivar Cofradia, Belinda, Belinda Black, Excalibur, Hoyo de Monterrey, Hoyo de Monterrey Dark Sumatra, JR Ultimate, El Rey del Mundo, Fonseca Cubano Limitada, Partagas, H. Upmann, Romeo y Julieta 1875, Royal Jamaica Gold and Onyx Reserve.
Individually the twenty cigars retail for $100.25 - an average of about 5 BUCKS each. This week you can get your hands on our Herf Deluxe for just $39.95 - a savings of over 60%. Take my word for it, this deal is as good as it gets. I'm not sure that even I, the World's Largest Cigar Dealer, could repurchase these cigars today for the same $39.95!
Herf in a Box Deluxe
MSRP: $100.25
Email Special Price: $39.95
To place an order, call 800 JR CIGAR (800-572-4427) or you can order on-line at http://www.jrcigars.com/ or just by clicking on one of the links above. We do not accept orders via email.
Please do not reply to this message. If you need assistance, please contact Customer Service at 888 JR HELP ME (888-574-3576) or by email at customerservice@jrcigars.com
If It’s FREE, It’s For Me!
Everybody loves FREE stuff. Free is good – free feels right, yes indeedy. Tell somebody they’ve won something free and they go bananas. Doesn’t matter if it’s a number two pencil, an oven mitt, or batteries for your vibrating egg, if it’s free, you feel like you’ve accomplished something special. And it really doesn’t have much to do with being a cheap person, because when it’s free it’s almost as if you’ve gotten one leg up on the man. You’ve claimed your own personal piece of “free” and the world suddenly seems right.
Today is an especially sweet day for those who relish in freebies. All across the U.S., McDonalds is giving away a free chicken sandwich. Their new country style chicken sandwich is on a biscuit and if you purchase a medium or large drink, it’s yours free! So of course, Polack boy here drops the kids off at the bus stop and heads straight for the local Mickey D’s. - you know, the one where even Charo speaks better English than these people. I don’t give a flying fark that I’m eating fried chicken for breakfast, it’s god damned free for crissakes – and didn’t you ever notice that “free” just tastes better? I got back to the house at 7:20 am and I’m slathering mayo on this thing, thinking, “Hey this ain’t half bad.” Of course an hour later my stomach is telling me a different story. Actually, it’s demanding to know, “Who the f@#k eats a fried chicken sandwich at 7:20 in the morning?” You might remember a few months back I had their free breakfast burrito and that thing did the Lambada in my colon for two days. McDonalds Corp. claimed that these promotions are a massive success as people buy ancillary stuff like drinks and other food items, as well as getting people to try an item they might never normally order. Smart marketing.
And holy crow, for today only, Dunkin Donuts is giving away free ice coffee! Another fast food bastion where the English language is a long forgotten commodity, Dunkin is gearing us up for the warm weather with some icey cold caffination, and at Lunchtime I will surely make the trek. And, if it looks like a different crew is on at McDonalds, I’ll be glomming chicken sandwich number two. Hey, come on…it’s free!
The places where my son Tommy and I are the absolute worst is at the food court in the mall or at Costco where they’re giving out free samples of food on toothpicks. The two of us will make complete dinners out of this ritual, as we’ll do a sweep of the entire area twenty times, gobbling down bourbon chicken, little hunks of steak sandwiches, Swedish meatballs, and hopefully somebody’s giving out little drink cups of something good to wash it all down. We really don’t care that we look like hogs from hell and no one EVER says we can’t have any more. Costco and BJ Warehouses are the worst as they have cooking stations where some $6 an hour senior citizen is chopping up squares of everything from lasagna, crab cakes, potato skins, or French toast sticks. It’s a venerable smorgasbord of frozen delights and my kid and I push people out of the way like we’re in the mosh pit at a Slayer concert as we jockey for early position in front of the microwave. Hey, these are fight or flight reflexes and my boy needs to learn how to fend for his own. But then he asks for a buck so he can get a Cherro. I’ll say something like, “With all this free crap, you gotta buy something?” He nods his head in agreement and then grabs for some granola covered thing instead. That’s my boy.
Remember when you were a kid and they put a free prize in cereal boxes? That was like the highlight of my week! How many times did you make mom buy some POS flakes of garbage just for a chance to tear open that box, hold it sideways, and shake those tasteless oats out of the way while fishing for that crappy whistle or mini yoyo where the string coiled up in a knot the first time you tried it? Order two years of Sports Illustrated and get a “free” rubber football with signatures of the New York Giants, hot stamped on the face for your viewing enjoyment. It’ll look just swell in the den. Get your car washed 99 times and the hundredth one is for FREE! YES! I’ll find excuses to wash my car, even in a fuggin blizzard just so I can have that free wash!
You should see me at the RTDA show (or whatever they call it these days.) Every cigar manufacturer in the galaxy is showing their wears in Vegas this year and if there’s a box cranked open for sampling, I just tell myself I’m in Costco and make the rounds. It is not beneath me to stick 300 gorgeous Camachos down my shirt and act like a non chalante douchebag, then head for straight the Altadis booth. Of all the free things in this world of ours, free cigars are certainly high on the list.
Hey, if I time things right, my family will enjoy three square meals of fried chicken sandwiches and ice coffee today. It’s all in the timing – and it’s all FREE. Need I say more?
Have a Free-ky Thurday,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigars Blog with the Zman
Land of the FREE and Home of the Depraved
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
JR Weekly Special: Back By Popular Demand -
The Herf Deluxe... HERF in a Box!
Valid thru Midnight, Wednesday, May 21, 2008, while supplies last.
http://www.jrcigars.com/index.cfm?page=weekly_specials
The HERF is back and better than ever!
This is a great new selection of TWENTY super-hefty, medium to full bodied handmade cigars from some of the most popular top-premium brands. Each cigar is between 4 ½ and 7 inches long and between a 48 and 54 ring gauge.
Here are the brands represented in every single box:
Bolivar Cofradia, Belinda, Belinda Black, Excalibur, Hoyo de Monterrey, Hoyo de Monterrey Dark Sumatra, JR Ultimate, El Rey del Mundo, Fonseca Cubano Limitada, Partagas, H. Upmann, Romeo y Julieta 1875, Royal Jamaica Gold and Onyx Reserve.
Individually the twenty cigars retail for $100.25 - an average of about 5 BUCKS each. This week you can get your hands on our Herf Deluxe for just $39.95 - a savings of over 60%. Take my word for it, this deal is as good as it gets. I'm not sure that even I, the World's Largest Cigar Dealer, could repurchase these cigars today for the same $39.95!
Herf in a Box Deluxe
MSRP: $100.25
Email Special Price: $39.95
To place an order, call 800 JR CIGAR (800-572-4427) or you can order on-line at http://www.jrcigars.com/ or just by clicking on one of the links above. We do not accept orders via email.
Please do not reply to this message. If you need assistance, please contact Customer Service at 888 JR HELP ME (888-574-3576) or by email at customerservice@jrcigars.com
It Ain’t Easy Being Green
Geothermal wells, solar panels, incandescent light bulbs and planting trees are all the rage. We are in the “Green Age” folks and many out there think that’s a good thing. And of course, caring for Mother Terra is a damned good worthy cause – but why the f@#k did we wait so damned long to get off our fat polluting asses to do something about this?
When I say “we”, I mean the collective “we” - the inhabitants of this rotating orb three houses down from the sun. The industrial age began and obviously no one gave a rat’s dumper about what was going into the air, water, and soil. In fairness, I think when the braniacs invented all this amazing new stuff at the turn of the 20th century, they really didn’t have a clue what the effects would be one hundred years later. “A hundred years is a long time and we can’t worry about that! Look at all this neat shit we’re making!” Well guess what, our great grandfathers lust for advancement has now left us in a really bad spot.
Now when I say a “bad spot”, I’m not referring to damage of the environment. I’m talking about dealing with the marketers who are profiting by the billions selling the world “green technology.” There are a lot of shysters out there and when a new trend comes along it’s a feeding frenzy amongst the trendsetters and the bandwagon jumpers. And I use the term “trendsetters” because being green IS now trendy. Being eco-friendly is being flaunted by those “in the know” and god forbid if you use round light bulbs or don’t drive a car that runs on banana peels and dog poop. The left coast, Hollyweird populous has gone nutso preaching how to live the life of Kermit. Last year singer Sheryl Crow was urging that we reduce our use of bathroom tissue by only using two squares to clean your most private area. Hey Sheryl, honey, I don’t want to get “overly” graphic here, but if you’re going to reduce me down to two sheets, you’d have a hose handy if I’m visiting your house for a barbeque. Can I possibly make that any clearer?
This saving the environment thing is supposed to be a "good thing." But we f’d up the planet for decades then the alarm bells went off as we went from happy go lucky-life is just grand, straight into Defon 5! And the thing I have trouble with – as do many is – are we really at Defon 5? The people behind the marketing of the Green movement want us to believe so. There are ten thousand football fields of ice breaking free in the artic so I better plant a maple and take 2 minute showers. Jesus, it takes me longer than that to soap up my boys and get ‘em all perky for the events of the day. (The term TMI has merit here.)
OK, gotta have you listen to the message I’m handing out here… I’m not disputing damage to the earth from industrial negligence. And I’m not disagreeing that we need to take care of this earthly home of ours. I’m greatly bothered by the alarmists who are rattling their cages and the peddling of their wares all in the hopes of changing the world. – and by doing so, the one thing that gets greener by the day is their bank accounts. If you research the web, there are hundreds of sites dedicated to green technology and how you can do your part. The thing that pisses me off is the jamming of this new ideology down our collective throats until we’re ready to hurl our Corn Flakes in mass disgust. It’s this “you’ve gotta do this NOW, RIGHT FREAKIN’ NOW, this very minute before we all perish!” sales pitch that almost makes me want to be a defiant bastid and do the opposite. I know that sounds pretty stupid to some, but I bet many of you feel the same way. Nobody likes to be told what to do. And nobody likes to be scoffed at for not following the herd. And as I said, this movement is becoming trendy and almost to the point of fashionable instead of functional.
Now guys, how long were you waiting until I finally mentioned the man with the corrugated head? Of course I’m referring to the 21st century’s version of Chicken Little, himself, Mr. Albert Goreknob. OK, OK, I’ve talked about Uncle Al several times in past blogs, but who else is the earth’s champion of Prius driving do-gooders? This man is selling his version of the “Day After Tomorrow” at a hundred and fifty grand per lecture while his wide-eyed audiences long for a play date with the gorillas in the mist in some Central American rain forest. Al may be stiffer than a Viagra test patient, but he is one smart son of a bitch. He has single handedly turned this global warming threat into a cottage industry and has resurrected himself from a zero personality jackass who actually lost an election to GWB, to Mr. Rolled up sleeves, jeans wearin’ cool dude, savior of humanity. I’ve watched several of his presentations on You Tube and they are indeed allegories of doom and gloom – cleverly presented with the annihilation of Pompei mixed with a sprinkling of 9 / 11. And as stated many times, there are scientists the world over who do not believe in the severity of his global warming doom-speak and have challenged him publically, but to no avail.
In recent weeks there have been devastating earthquakes, cyclones, and killer tornadoes, and people like my mother who Gore spoon-feeds his greens, believe Al is a prophet. Well, I think Al is profiting all right. Again, many scientists the world over believe that global warming is not the culprit, but instead, the earth going though natural shift and changes in its chemistry and foundation. I think that our ex-vice president may be right about many of the things he says, but I am having trouble - tremendous trouble buying into his Code Red mentality. I give the guy an A+ for marketing and milking this for all it’s worth. He has literally created a trend – a new way of approaching life the world over, and has won a Pulitzer and an Oscar. The guy has gone from Dudley Doofus to guitar hero rockstar and that’s gotta feel pretty damned good (even though he still has to look at Tipper’s planetary sized rump.) He’s got his own little mosh pit going, filled with Obama lovers, the Hollyweird left, tree-hugging granola junkies, and solar panel salesmen. He is the leader of the green movement and the world is his platform.
But something inside me doesn't like being sold. Something inside me doesn't like being told what to do. I'll be good to the planet and do my part, but as an ex-advertising and marketing executive of twenty years, I know a good sell when I see one and it feels like we're all watching just one great big infomercial and Al's got the 800 number with all the goods you could ever need. He slices and dices... but wait, there's more! Something inside me doesn't like being a rube.
"But what if Gore's right" , my mom asks me in her nervous and quivering voice.
" I got it covered mom - I'm converting the Jeep to run on bat shit and I'm planting a tobacco plant."
Have a wacky Wednesday, people,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog with the Zman
Us Kids Had It Pretty Good
When the majority of us were kids, we remember our parents telling us about their childhoods and it seemed like some black and white movie era a gazillion years ago. I remember seeing their photos from the 40’s and 50’s and couldn’t conceive how they got by back then. Well, my kids are 13 and 16 and think the same thing about my childhood and it’s really kind of freaky. They really think I lived amongst the dinosaurs and when I think back compared to today, we sure as hell did.
Of course only 7 channels on TV, no internet or video games – that angle has been hashed out to death - but my kids never heard the term “Saturday Morning Cartoons.” I lived for Saturday morning, I mean lived for it: Bugs and Scooby, Speed Racer, Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids. But in today’s Politically Correct society, many of these shows would not exist or be modified to milquetoast crappola. It would be Smiling Albert, or Calorically Challenged Albert (on the WB) who would be a Type 1 diabetic and teach the kids about the basic food groups which has been changed 1,000 times since we were kids. And we would have “Speed-Limit” Racer without Chim Chim the monkey in the Mach 5 trunk, thanks to PETA (How do I manage to mention those psychos every damned day?) Scooby Doo would have to change the characters as Velma would be black (played by Wanda Sykes) and Shaggy would be Hispanic (played by Cheech Marin) and Daphne, an Asian (played by Margaret Cho.) The Road Runner would never feature giant anvils, strap-on rockets, and the Coyote plummeting a mile to the canyon floor. Actually they wouldn’t be allowed to perform any physical harm on each other and the plot would change to the Coyote sending nasty emails to the Road Runner, but his system would download a virus and go KABOOM! Meep Meep!
I’ll tell you one HUGE thing that has changed: 99.9% of all parents don’t hit their kids anymore. And that’s a problem with our society as so many of the little bastids need to be thrown a good beatin’ every once in a while, that’s for sure. My dad used to whack me and my brother with the strap, and man did that ever leave a mark. When you were a little kid, that would put an element of fear in your head and you knew what would bring it about. Jeez, when my dad jumped up from his chair and reached for his buckle we spread like cockroaches and fled for our lives. It never meant he didn’t love us, and it sure as hell taught us some respect. And remember being sent to bed without dinner? Who the hell has done this since the war in Vietnam ended? That was absolute torture for a fat little turd like me. I felt like Papillion, locked in a cell for days, catching giant bugs and eating them to survive. Can you even imagine trying one of these stunts today? DYFS would be knocking down your door and your kids would be living with some well to do Jewish couple and his 3.5 kids out on Long island.
When I was a kid I loved a big juicy rare burger on the grill. Now of course you could literally kill your children with undercooked chop meat and be brought up on charges of manslaughter. My kids have only known “well-done” dried up knots of beef they call cheeseburgers. The other day I cooked up a few of my favorite Bubba Burgers (thee most awesome if you haven’t tried ‘em) and served it to the chillins “medium - rare.” The two of them raved like looneys about how delicious they were and now realize that charring the hell out of your meat doesn’t taste all that swell.
One of my best memories of all as a kid was that nobody bitched when a man lit up a cigar in public. (Except at my dad who smoked DeNobili and Parodi’s that smelled like cat shit wrapped in tar paper.) I vividly remember the tantalizing smell of good cigar at a restaurant or a ball game and thinking that I would like to do that when I became a man one day. It’s wonderfully nostalgic thinking back to outdoor family cookouts – dad using charcoal briquettes in some flimsy p.o.s. barbeque while my uncles lit up cigars, drank ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon or Rheingold Extra Dry, and b.s.’d about baseball, world affairs, or whatever was topical at the time. That memory is literally branded into my cerebellum and I can still smell the sizzling hotdogs, searing Italian sausage, and smoldering Cuban long filler that permeated the entire neighborhood. By today’s PC agenda ridden standards that would be considered a carcinogenic death march. By my standards, that was one hell of a way to grow up.
Damn, we had it pretty good back then.
Until tomorrow,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar blog With the Zman
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Weekly Special: We're Biting The Bullet...
Valid thru Midnight, Wednesday, May 14, 2008 while supplies last.
Sink your teeth into this deal!
When we first received these way-cool, ceramic, covered cigar boxes with twenty Gurkha East India 7.00 inch by 50 ring gauge Churchills inside, we put them on sale for 99 bucks just to move the monstrous oversized boxes out of our warehouse. We figured that a $99 price tag and just $2.50 shipping on a box that probably costs u closer to 10 bucks to pack and ship, was a hell of a deal on an item that was supposed to retail at $180.00
However, these cigar boxes have gone absolutely nowhere, so we're biting the bullet, taking our lumps, and blowing them out of here at $69.95. Really, if I was better businessman or just a heartless a-hole, we shoulda just returned the whole batch, but - and this is the honest truth - in my entire lifetime in the cigar industry, have never returned a single cigar to any manufacturer. One of the reasons JR buy so well is because our vendors know that once we say we'll take something, it's sold, and it's not coming back some day to haunt them
This is a deal that... Well, when you see the ceramic piece the cigars come in, in person, you'll realize that neither we, nor the manufacturer made any money on these cigars
Gurkha East India Churchills in a Ceramic, Covered Cigar Box
MSRP: $180.00
JR Price: $99.95
Email Special Price: $69.95
Medium Brown Ecuador Sumatra Wrappers
Maduro Connecticut Broadleaf Wrappers
Welcome to Hollyweird
As I watch these ultra bizarre people do ultra weird things, and live ultra strange lifestyles, I wonder if they were bizarre before they were stars and the lifestyle just culled it out of them?…Or does living in that culture in the land of fruit and nuts just turn one into a Hollyweirdo?
Why do so many of the folks of Hollyweird become eccentric? Does having enough money to buy Minnesota make you that way? Does the adulation and the continual fawning of those around you over your every move really mess with one’s head? I heard in a recent interview with the always perky, cute and vivacious Rosie O’donnell that she admitted that these factors started swelling her head (and you thought it was the fried banana and mayonnaise sandwiches) and she was treating people like underlings and losing her temper. You often hear the stories of people like Dr. Phil and even the goddess Oprah berating their staff if their every whim is not met. It does seem there’s no question that an awful lot of them start believing the hype.
It seems more than anything that the stars of TV and the silver screen need a “cause” they have to take ownership of. And since they are the “beautiful people” they get all of the press coverage necessary, which unfortunately for them includes the vermin who hang from tree limbs in order to photograph their every move.
Tom Cruise is a flat out known bizarro, continually flaunting his religion that was invented by a guy who wrote science fiction novels. Why do these stars flock to this “made up” religion with all of its stigma and scrutiny? Nancy Cartwright who does the voice of Bart Simpson recently donated an astounding ten million dollars to the church of Ron L. Hubbard. The gal makes over a quarter of a million dollars per episode doing a cartoon voice. (That’s 5.5 million a year) Yeah, I had a f@#kin’ cow when I heard that one, too. Other huge supporting members: John Travolta, Kelly Preston, Mimi Rogers, Anne Archer , Pricilla Presley and the late Sonny Bono.
The Hollyweirdos have all paraded upon the Al Goreknob bandwagon, turning southern California, greener than Kermit’s amphibian wiener. For some reason, preaching of doom and gloom appeals to these cretins as they desparately search for a way to run their Bentley’s and Lamborghinis on Orville Redenbacher. And of course every stinking one of them has climbed aboard the Obama train, pumping their mega dollars into his “bright new hope for America.” I’m not sure who’s gonna make all the movies when the entire galaxy of A-listers implode after the Obamanation Express topples and burns as Hillary stands over the wreckage and urinates (and we all know Hillary stands when she urinates.) Remember, Alec Baldwin and Babs Streisand were going to move out of the country if GW won the last election? What happened – they realized we really do live in the greatest country in the world? Trust me, that’s no support for Bushie on my part, it’s just that the hypocrisy of these belligerent turds gets so freakin’ old after a while. Johnny Depp lives in France and bad mouth’s the country all the time. Pam Anderson has to flash her mammoth faux hooters so we all will realize that “fur is death.” And it was Rob “Meathead” Reiner who was the catalyst behind the elimination of public smoking in California, which has mutated across the country and throughout the world. These god damned self righteous bastids have to put their personal footprint into a cause so their egos can be continually fed, much like Audrey the killer plant, in little Shop of Horrors. The likes of Michael Moore, Sean Penn, and the sultry Miss Rosie O need to just sit down and enjoy a nice piping hot carafe of shut the f@#k up once in a while. For god’s sake, PLEASE!
And why oh why do these famed star couples have to adopt kids from the most far out reaches of humanity? There are a gozillion beautiful babies and children here in the US and countless gorgeous baby girls in China who need homes but these insaniacs like Madonna, Brad and Anjolina, Michael Jackson and their cronies have to find orphan waifs in the Congo, Tunisia, French Guiana, Haiti, and Tibet. Of course the Left Coast wackjobs can’t possibly give their offspring names like Bobby, Joey, Kathy, or Nicole, now can they? It’s gotta be off the wall monikers like Apple, Suri, Moses, Pilot Inspektor, Tullulah Belle, Scout LaRue, Audio Science, Moxie CrimeFighter, or Makena'lei Gordon. And I swear to God, people – every one of those is a for real Hollyweird kid name. I made NONE of those up. For crissakes, if they dare to be so foolish as to name their kid Billy or Debbie, the chillins will be humiliated and ridiculed for life by all the other Hollyweird cubs. Oh the humanity.
Now I’m well aware that there are some normal folks out there in la-la land and many do give a great sum of their money to worthy charities. But Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollyweird and the gossip rags newspapers certainly don’t want to focus on them. It’s Linday’s last joy ride, Ashton's latest punked, or Paris’s super elite weekend A-list gala soiree in Fiji that makes the news – if that’s what you want to call “news.”
So is the environment that get’s ‘em wacky – were they already strange and the surroundings kicked it all into gear? I mean what makes these folks so flat out peculiar and eccentricly nutso? Hey, when the Zman here hits the big time one day and I’m hob knobbin with the likes of Jennine Garafalo, Carrot Top, and the Barbie Twins, maybe I’ll let you all in on the exclusive world of the Hollyweird rich n’ famous. But until then, I gotta take the recycling out cuz I hear the truck coming down the street.
You know, suddenly George Costanza naming his kid "Seven" doesn't sound so strange.
Have a swell Monday,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
A Dying Breed - The Man's Man
I remember way back to when I was a very young child, my dad used the term “Man’s Man.” He spoke of guys like Sinatra, Bogart and Charlton Heston, Unitas, YA Tittle, Dimaggio, Mantle, Gordie Howe and Bobby Hull. They were “real” men - guys with character who exuded masculinity and had a certain edge about them. Back then it was definitely cool and you were looked up to if you embodied these qualities. But over the years, the politically correct do-gooders of society have almost forcefully eradicated this term and category of the male species. The great fear is that groups of people who do not fit that type of image such as effeminate men or homosexuals, geeks, nerds, and pocket calculator carrying brainiacs will feel excluded and take great offense – God knows, we just can’t have that. And one of the newest terms in our society coined by British journalist, Mark Simpsom is the much talked about metrosexual. On salon.com in July of 2002, Simpson was quoted as saying, “The typical metrosexual is a young man with money to spend, living in or within easy reach of a metropolis — because that's where all the best shops, clubs, gyms and hairdressers are. He might be officially gay, straight or bisexual, but this is utterly immaterial because he has clearly taken himself as his own love object and pleasure as his sexual preference.”
Wow… this is the new cool? WTF happened to “Ah’ll be bock?”
Today’s society has become a blanched and homogenized wasteland where powerful celebrities like Jane Fonda, Oprah, Rob “meathead” Reiner, Sean Penn, and Alec Baldwin have become the voice of reason for our country – and that folks - is f@#cking scarier than a Barbra Streisand Double Live album. (Watch the movie Team America if you want a good laugh.) These bombastic elitists will perch themselves in a redwood for two weeks, appear at an anti-fur march that has all the makings of a Herman Gehring fun fest, and horrify the shit out of everyone about the face melting effects of global warming. They are P.C. activists who use their money and influence to protect the world by saving us from ourselves – because apparently, we are all too goddamned stupid to make the proper decisions on smoking a cigar, eating red meat, sitting in the sun, or wearing a leather jacket.
The near extinction of the Man’s Man is a direct result of the agenda ridden crusaders of P.C. If it offends just one person, let’s give it the broad-brush treatment so that everyone can be happy and gay! I for one am sick of this mentality and was driven by an inner calling to stand up in the name of Men’s Men everywhere (kind of like when your sack is ready to bust because you have to pee really bad in the middle of the night). With all this talk of metrosexuals and the Queer Eye perspective, Men’s Men have become relegated to fourth-class citizenship facing certain extinction – that is, if we don’t stand up and make ourselves be heard.
One bona fide “real” man who whole-heartedly agrees with me wrote a book on the subject. Tough guy actor Frank Vincent, (the infamous Billy Batts in Goodfellas who told Joe Pesci to go home and get his fuckin’ shinebox, Casino, Raging Bull, and most recently psycho bastard, Phil Leotardo, Johnny Sack’s #2 man in the Sopranos) released a literary classic that should be owned by every living, breathing fan of this blog. ‘A Guy’s Guide to Being a Man’s Man’ is a fun, informative, and often times tongue-in-cheek look at what it takes for a guy to be a part of this esteemed classification. A while back I sat down with Frank for lunch and cigars and we talked about his theories behind the book.
I asked Frank point blank, what is the definition of the quintessential man’s man: “It’s a man who has dignity and respect - especially respect for women,” he noted, “And, he also displays the qualities of honor and loyalty. He must have self-respect and respect for others. Those are the assets that make up a real man’s man.”
One thing that Frank and I agree upon is that you don’t have to smoke cigars, drink, curse, surf porn sites or participate in dwarf-tossing competitions in order to be considered a real man (although, those activities do tend to heighten the testosterone levels significantly). There’s no requirement to know the lyrics to the Monty Python Lumberjack Song, and you need not physically transform yourself from the 98-pound weakling into the Charles Atlas prototype, as in the old comic book advertisements. So what then? Quite simply, it is more about an attitude – the way you think and the way you carry yourself. It’s really about who you are inside.
Men that I personally feel fall under the category of being a Man’s Man?… Hugh Hefner in my opinion is the ultimate example. What heterosexual male can honestly say he hasn’t wished he could be the Bunny King for only one night? (Leading a cavalcade of jiggling bimbos on roller skates around a tennis court certainly has its merit.) I think the Terminator, Arnold Schwarzenegger is a tanker-truck load of testosterone and definitely fits the bill (although I know Frank Vincent has a problem putting a politician in this category.) I think guys like actors, James Gandolfini and James Caan, ex-jocks and now commentators Terry Bradsaw, Howie Long, and John Madden, American Chopper’s Paul Tuttle Sr., stogie smoking comedian Ron White, and retired four-star general Tommy Franks all fit the bill to a “T”. And of course, don’t forget my pal Frankie V. – lest my remains end up sprinkled between Newark Airport and exit 16W on the Jersey Turnpike.
And strictly out of curiosity, what about the guys who will just never make the cut? Lemme see, there’s… Andy Dick, Harvey Fierstein (and his pet gerbil, Digger), Carrot Top, Jerry Springer, Richard Hatch, The Geico Lizzard (an ardent metrosexual), and that over caffeinated fruit loop from Extreme Makeover, Ty Pennington. TV Weathermen need not apply so toss Al Roker and Willard Scott out on their back doors... Marilyn Manson, Albert Arnold Gore, Chaka from Land of the Lost, Osama Bin Laden (anyone who lives in a rock condominium and eats stewed goat with his flat bread is instantly disqualified), Principal Skinnard, Ross Perot, Mr. Brady, Barney Phife, and John Tesh (but how did he snag such a hot wife?) Then there’s the most handsome Michael (I’m sorry, but my good baseball cap is at the cleaners) Moore, and of course, ex New Jersey governor, the dishonorable Mr. James (I f@#ked my life partner and the state) Mcgreevey.
Guys – I say it’s time we show an outward pride in being real men. I really mean it. I say enough is enough, to the suffocating stranglehold of political correctness and those who perpetuate its inherent dangers. We have the constitutional right to speak our minds freely without persecution. If you don’t believe in same sex marriage that does not instantly qualify you as a queer hating homophobe. It makes you a person who has his own set of beliefs and choices. If you want to hunt, fish or wear a fur hat, it does not make you a murderer. If you want to surf the internet for porno sites, well, just make sure your history cache is deleted afterwards. (Those pop-up windows certainly do get a little hairy at times.) And if you choose to sit around all day Sunday in your underwear, watching football, scratching your boys, and sucking down Busch Light in cans… well, your wife is right – you are a lazy goddamned bastard. But gently remind her that it still doesn’t make you a homophobe.
Being Men’s Men doesn’t mean acting like sex-crazed, beer-swilling, Homer Simpson-esque Barbarians. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Like Frank Vincent says, it’s about self-respect, honor and loyalty. And I’d say those are some pretty admirable qualities. I asked Frank, what final words he had for all the politically correct zealots who demand that we conform to their mediocre, metrosexual, smoke free, low-carb, un-opinionated, off-white, milquetoast world? He just smiled and said, “Very simple; do YOUR thing – but PLEASE show some tolerance and let other people do THEIR thing. Mind your own business and whatever you do; don’t infringe on my space.”
Well put my friend. I’ll light up a Hoyo Excaliber on that note.
And remember... If guns kill people, then spoons made Rosie O'donnell fat.
Have a wild weekend,
-Tommy Z.
JR Cigar’s Blog With the Zman
Up in Smoke In Ohio
Have I ever mentioned that career politicians are absolute scum… the lowest of the low… the turd that won’t flush, but constantly circles the bowl and resurfacing to your utter dismay? I must have mentioned that sometime in the past seven months since I created this little stink pit we call home… haven’t I? I’m always amazed how those with “the power” can do what they want, or at least think they can. Yesterday we discussed the tu-tu wearing governor of New Jersey and let’s not so soon forget Client Number Nine from the great state of New York. Both cases are flagrant examples of power hungry idiocy for the good of no one but themselves. Of course there have been countless others who have served to make our political system a cesspool of regurgitated falsehoods, lies, and scandals.
Now here’s a story that blew my mind this morning. There’s a little group known in the state of Ohio as the Ohio Tobacco Prevention Foundation (OTPF), created in the year 2000. Their mission is to educate about the dangers of smoking – with kids smoking cigarettes being the major emphasis. They have a Help Quit phone line, counseling, seminars and information on their website to help those with addictions and what have you. The non-profit organization is run by 17 dedicated volunteers.
Here’s where it gets wacky. This “little” organization just happens to have a bank account of 270 million dollars! Holy liver spots batman, that’s a lotta cash! Now you know how the zealots have so much power – it’s because they have the funds. Well, that is “had” the funds. You see, it seems that the state of Ohio is a tad cash strapped these days and state legislators had Governor Ted Strickland sign a measure that allowed the state of Ohio to pilfer 230 of the OTPF’s 270 million for their very own use. You heard it right, they confiscated the funds to do whatever they want to do with it. I guess the message clearly sent here is f@$k smoking teens and it’s tough shineola, people. Wow. As you could expect, the people who run the foundation freaked as did many of its supporters.
"This endowment was set up outside state government for just this reason and, clearly, to reach into it is illegal and unconstitutional and I think immoral as well," said board member Bob Crane. (Why do I suddenly have a visual of Werner Kempler holding his monocle and blurting out, “Hoooooogaaaaan?”) "But, it's going to cost millions of dollars and years of legal effort to unravel this if the governor tries to go after money ...The governor's office has threatened the charities, the attorney general's office has threatened us with personal liability and now, today, the legislature has threatened our kids. I think we'll stand firm."
Well, Bob and his buddies can stand firm til’the Indians win the World Series cuz the politicos of Ohio mean business. The board of directors of the OTPF made a bold move trying to circumvent the state measure and transfer the funds to a Washington DC based anti-smoking organization. The Ohio legislators then quickly passed a law that allowed them to confiscate the 230 mil. Isn’t it amazing how fast government can pass laws and act when it behooves them the most?
Crazy, right? This is all very weird because I loathe career politicians and I despise the smoke Nazis. (Although I do support their efforts to stop kids from smoking cigarettes – because as you know, cigars and cigarettes are two very different animals.) Well, it gets nuttier. The OTPF sued the state of Ohio for misappropriation of funds. The judge basically couldn’t believe the insanity behind it all and made a move to freeze the funds until all could be straightened out.
So go ahead and just try to guess what the good polticos of Ohio had the brazen set of balls to do? They passed another law to disband the Ohio Tobacco Prevention Foundation! Yep, they wiped out the eight year old organization and took the remaining 40 million to boot. Good God this smacks of Cold War communism for crissakes! Can you believe the friggin gall of the people that run that looney bin?
This story is a true testament to the hypocrisy of our government and their fine upstanding officials. And… To add massive insult to injury, the OTPF not only was about to award three major charitable grants – the entire state of Ohio just went smoke free on May 3, in bars, restaurants, and workplaces. What a god damned kick in the butt, huh?
I slowly draw on my Macanudo Vintage 2000 while I snicker with glee at the irony.
Have a good one, dudes,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
New Jersey’s Back Door Politician
You all know how much I love writing about the rotten lifetime politicians who spew their horse hockey on a continual basis. Well, being from the lovely state of New Jersey, I like nothing more than reporting on the man (uh-huh) that did to the Garden State what he was doing behind his wife’s back for quite some time.
Jangling Jimmy Mc Greevey is in the news again folks, as he and his wife appear in court to finally consummate their official divorce. Hopefully you all remember the embarrassment our fine state went through when ol’ JM flung himself out of the closet with the power of 100 Kramers busting through Seinfeld’s apartment door. He appeared on live TV to tell the world, “I am a gay American,” as he rolled down the sock on his right ankle and showed us all his cute lil’ rainbow tattoo. I was glad he didn’t say he was a gay Canadian as that would have most certainly hurt ice hockey’s low ratings even further here in the States.
In today’s AP article it stated the following: "It's a beautiful day," former Gov. Jim McGreevey said as he entered alone through the back entrance of the courthouse.
He entered through the back entrance?! Oh come on, that’s not fair trumping me on this kind of stuff! That’s primo Zman fodder and the Associated Press knows it. I don’t go stealing their best lines like “Man takes out family with an axe” or “President Bush’s approval ratings are lower than Chico Esquella’s batting average." I cry foul!
Matos McGreevey, the J-man’s soon to be ex, claims she had no idea that her husband was a fan of the glazed doughnut and is seeking $600,000 for the time she got ripped off from living in the governor’s mansion. I’d say she has a case but I find it hard to believe that those supposed midnight runs to Starbucks decked out in a biker’s leather cap and spiked neck collar didn’t tip her off that her hubby was fruitier than a Zamboni full of Skittles. Surely the cases of KY and the lifetime achievement award from Blue Boy magazine should have raised an eyebrow. You would have thought for certain that the weekend Jersey Shore getaways with Nathan Lane and Harvey Fierstein might have clanked an alarm bell or two, but Mrs. M. claims she was unaware. The Amex bill for thirty-four hundred dollars at Strap-On city would have done it for me, but I seem to be rather quick at spotting a poofter on the make.
I t seems that Jimbo has a different recollection of their marriage of “convenience” as he reportedly was shtooping anybody or anything that stood still long enough. He claims to have had an affair with one of his aides (who is suing him for sexual harassment) and had a well-publicized love affair with the dude he hired as the head of New Jersey home land security. (If I had said homo-land security, would that make me a hate monger or just a jerk-ass toad looking for a cheap laugh?) Actually many male aides claimed that McGreevey came on to them during his tenure in Princeton. “He would wear a g-string and a Carmen Miranda fruit hat to many morning briefings,” claims an anonymous source. “Sometimes he’d hit the younger guys with a riding crop while throwing Cocoa Puffs at them, yelling Who’s yer daddy?” Holding back the tears our source also added, “If we didn’t know the answer to something he’d make us eat a live goldfish and sing show tunes under a large flashlight. But it was the gerbil races on the side lawn that caused many of us to finally crack.”
Both McGreevey’s have written “tell all” books on their life together, and as you can imagine, the stories are quite different. And, according to today’s AP article: The most sensational witness could be Teddy Pedersen, a 29-year-old former aide who claims he had regular three-way sexual encounters with the McGreeveys beginning when they were dating in 1999 and ending two years later, after they were married and McGreevey had been elected governor. John Post, a lawyer representing Matos McGreevey, is seeking to bar Pedersen's testimony. Matos McGreevey claims the encounters never happened. McGreevey says they did.
And just when you’ve heard it all, Jersey’s ex-goobernor is embarking onto a new vocation. I kid you not (and it is in the AP article) McGreevey is studying to be an Episcopal priest. Oh how delightfully horrifying - the rusty-trombone playing politico failure wants to be a PRIEST! Only real life could produce such a shameless joke. Yikes.
There were many allegations about James McGreevey’s corruption as governor of New Jersey, including kick-backs, illegally awarded state contracts, and his use of tax payer money to fund his entire vacation trip to Ireland. While the man is an outed shyster, he’s also an outed rump wrangler who used his politico power to misuse and abuse. Normally I’d call for a politician of such shameless debauchery to be bound in a dark hood, strung from his gnads and beaten for hours with a muddy rake. But the problem here is that in this case, our perpetrator would most certainly beg for more.
Have a Wonderful Wednesday my peeps,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
I Am Ironman
It was Monday evening and I could wait no longer. I grabbed my 13 year-old son Tommy and I said, “Don’t ask any questions get in the car and do as your told… We’re going to see Ironman… Now let’s move it!” We arrived at the new mega-monster stadium seating theater to a mega-throng of moviegoers of all ages. The price of gas certainly hasn’t depleted anyone’s discretionary income here. As I looked up at the board for the movie times the next two showings at 8:30 and 9:15 were sold out! Damn, I hate that! So we killed time at the mall then returned 45 minutes before show time in order to get primo seating, which we did. My kid asked for popcorn so I said, “Just a normal sized bucket and soda,” and he nodded. Of course he comes back with Hefty Lawn and Leaf bag filled with popcorn and a Janitor in a Drum tankard of Dr. Pepper. “It was only a buck more for the upgrade dad! Oh yeah, and I got this shoebox filled with Nestle’s crunch balls.” I asked, “Where’s the change from my fifty,” and he said, “What change?”
Of course a plethora of previews were shown which included Batman, Dark Knight (which looks awesome), Indiana Jones (Also looking awesome), and Mike Myers as the Love Guru (he mimics Deepak Chopra’s voice to a tee.) But enough of the previews already. I wanna see some kick-ass, bad boy, righteous mutha-fuggin super hero rock and roll action, and I WANT IT NOW! And that I got as Ironman did not disappoint in any way. This movie is fun and this movie rocks. It holds your attention from beginning to end with not only tremendous action, beyond wicked Industrial Light and Magic special effects, but surprisingly good acting by the entire cast, especially Robert Downey Jr.
I’ve been a Marvel Comics geekazoid fan from early childhood since 8 years-old when I cut eye slits out of one of mom’s buckets to wear as a helmet, donned a bathroom towel cape, and cracked my little brother in the gnads with a broom handle, all while declaring that I was ZMAN…Farts of Steel! (I still do that ritual when he visits, which understandably isn’t very often.) I loved Marvel Super Heroes, Thor, Captain America, Spiderman, Hulk, The Submariner, and especially Ironman. And the beauty of the film is that Director Jon Favreau has retained that wonderful comic book feel throughout the movie with out cheesing it up or making it cornball. Downey is a fabulous Tony Stark – boyish yet devilish charm, with a snarky, dry sense of billionaire humor. Gwyneth Paltrow is darned cute as Stark’s personal assistant (Pepper Potts) who in one scene where Tony has an overnight romp with a hottie TV reporter, Pepper tells the woman she often takes out Mr. Starks trash in the morning. And Jeff Bridges is excellent and believably rotten as the cigar smoking Obadiah Stane - YES, oh my God in heaven, they showed a man smoking a cigar in a movie that kids will see. Sound the alarms oh politically correct do-gooders of society - children everywhere will see this film and want to smoke cigars too - then before you know it it's crack and meth and the entire family unit is destroyed! Ahhhhhh! (U-hum, sorry for that little outburst folks, I'm a little touchy when it comes to this subject as you might have guessed.)
The musical score was especially captivating as a heavy metalish, chunka- chunka guitar sound accompanied Starks robotic building scenes, much like watching an episode of American Chopper as the Tuttle boys weld and configure a a mean looking work of iron. Guitarist Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine and Audioslave contributed guitar work to the overall soundtrack.
If you’ve seen the numbers, the flick is a massive box office success, doing over 200 million worldwide as of May 5 (yesterday.) And I was shocked at how good the reviews have been for a film of this type – Rotten Tomatoes giving it an almost unheard of 93% reviewers thumbs up. And of course, the audience went crazy during action scenes – especially this doofus yelling “THAT IS SO COOL!” every 30 seconds.
Now I understand the appeal for comic fans and kids, but why has the general public taken so well to this movie. Here’s my Zman, Stogie-Sucking Polack from New Jersey theory… The American people are dealing with a lot of weird crappola these days – Egotisitacally crooked, retard politico turd smugglers who dominate our every waking minutes, including wacky side kicks, racist reverends, and blue dress blasting hubbys – gouging oil and gas prices affecting the price of goods and the overall economy – and our boys are still in Iraq and Afghanistan where some Mother’s and Father’s Day’s will be greeted by their sons in caskets. You can’t even find a fellow Republican that doesn’t admit that GW has f@#ked this country up pretty damned good to the point where we are hated and mocked the world over.
Ironman is good. Ironman is for the people. He’s ultra cool and a bad-ass mutha who takes no prisoners. He’s handsome, a ladies man, brilliant and rich. Plus he’s a high-tech, walking talking machine that men and techno gadget lovers grunt over like primal cave dwellers. The guy flies faster than navy jets, shoots heat seeking missiles from his arms, and has the strength of a hundred men. What the hell is there not to love about this dude?
Ironman is a diversion from the everyday ugliness we Americans face. Tony Stark is our hero, a man who can almost single handedly end world terror and have the United States standing tall once again. Whether fictional or real, we need Ironman. We need to cheer, laugh, and yell at the movie screen once more. We need to believe in our hearts that maybe this super hero isn’t really that far fetched and that we could see him in our lifetime.
Marvel Studios has announced that the stars have signed on for two sequels making an Ironman trilogy for the fans. (Hopefully they won’t do a Matrix where the first was awesome but 2 and 3 suck to no end.) I don’t think so with this one. Now they can introduce Super Villains and all kinds of crazy foes for the man who says he’s really in a Titanium Alloy suit but "Ironman is kind of catchy" and will do.
After three months of captivity in a cave, Tony Stark asks for one thing and one thing only before his press conference – a cheeseburger – an American cheeseburger. Sorry PETA, somehow the hero in the metal suit just isn’t the type to beg for a tofu soy patty.
Ironmaningly Your,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigars Blog With the Zman
Who Are the Real Animals?
PETA is calling for an end to this cruelty that masquerades as sport.
- www.peta.org Monday, May 5, 2008
During this past weekend’s 134th running of the Kentucky Derby, tragedy struck, as second place finisher Eight Belles collapsed to the dirt track AFTER the race. The filly broke bones in both front legs and euthanasia was performed on the animal right then and there.
I have long enjoyed watching racing and I have always felt that horses are amazingly beautiful animals. I also believe after horses like Barbaro and Eight Belles have met the same untimely fate, the "sport of kings" should continue looking into options that will eliminate such disastrous events. Several tracks in the U.S. are featuring synthetic surfaces that are far more easier on horses legs with less chance of sustained injuries to the animals.
So while I share many people’s sentiments on bettering the sport, making it safer for both “animal” and jockey, I certainly DO NOT share the sentiments of the radical sociopaths of PETA who’s Nazi-like tactics continue to blur the facts, make outrageous claims, and bully those who refuse to share in their beliefs. I logged onto PETA’s website this morning, knowing I’d be in for a load of tear jerking and acrimonious ridicule, along with uninformed, retard diatribe. Oh yeah, I got it all…
With the shock of Barbaro's death after the 2006 Preakness still fresh in their minds, the Kentucky Derby crowd saw for themselves the sordid truth about what racing means for the horses involved last night, as the filly Eight Belles was killed after collapsing on the track.
PETA is calling for the immediate suspension of jockey Gabriel Saez—who whipped Eight Belles mercilessly as she came down the final stretch, no doubt in agony from two front legs that were about to snap. While the trainers, jockeys, and owners may weep their crocodile tears today over Eight Belles' euthanasia, they will be back on the track tomorrow, putting other horses at risk. Despite the wealth associated with thoroughbred racing, for the horses—most of whom end up broken, cast off, or sent to Europe to be killed for the dinner table—it's a dirty business and no better than dogfighting.
This is just brutally ignorant journalism, yanking on the heartstrings of this organizations bleeding heart martyrs of political correctness. First off, Eight Belles was not “killed” on the track, she was euthanized. It is a horrible thing to happen, but by far the most humane thing to do for the “animal.” In fact, PETA performs euthanasia on thousands of animals each year and on their website it is referred to as the “compassionate option.”
Secondly, how does the author KNOW so emphatically that the horse was in agony as her legs were about to snap? Is he or she an animal psychic? The filly collapsed AFTER the race and racing experts, veterinarians, and jockey Gabriel Saez have all said that without question if the horse was injured BEFORE the finish line she would have fallen face first into a heep, throwing it’s rider and most likely causing a devastating multi-horse pileup. A thoroughbred’s massive weight would simply NOT allow the filly to be able to continue running and finish the race if it’s legs’s were already broken – and that is a fact.
I have talked to race horse owners and riders and they have always said that whipping does not injure the “animals.” They are born and bred to race and know it is a signal from the jockey to kick it into gear. The PETA henchmen are claiming that the horse was beaten so severely that it continued to run even though the pain was great. People, if that horse felt tremendous pain during the run, it would have pulled up lame. That’s what horses do.
To say the owners and trainers weep crocodile tears is simply the uttering of an agenda ridden, out of touch with reality imbecile. These people love the animals and it is brutally tragic when something of this nature occurs. But then to claim that the sport of horse racing is no better than dog fighting is truly the rantings of a fanatical lunatic. In a dog fight, the animals are bred to KILL. A bloody and horrifying death is the intended final result. To compare the two as equals clearly illustrates the bizarre rationalization that PETA uses to get the public to sympathize with its dangerous and psychotic ramblings.
The following are some of the “for real” ramblings of the brain washed brethren on one of PETA’s web forums…
- Last time a checked gambling was a sin and horses and other animals should not be used as part of humans sinful behavior.
- The black football star goes to prison for electrocuting dogs. The white race horse owners get condolence letters when they murder their filly on national TV.
- How stupid is horse racing? Why don't we make people wear harnesses and be whipped because they're not going fast enough? Maybe THEN people will listen!
- Dog fighting has a reputation of being violent and associated with other crimes so it is an easier argument for people to accept its brutality.
- I was driven to tears when I learned about this beautiful animal being abused to death for profit.
- God, this is horrible. Whom can we contact to support the suspension of the jockey, Saez?
- Shame on jockey Gabriel Saez—for whipping poor Eight Belles mercilessly as she came down the final stretch, no doubt in agony from two front legs that were about to snap. Shame on the Racing Industry! Get them Peta!
- How awful!!! I am so sad about this!! I want this greedy, despicable jockey brought up on charges!! Scum of the earth!!
- You know I think it's a shame that it's okay to race a horse until he collapse and die but michael vick had to do time for a crime he didn't commit.
Sure as hell looks like a few Falcon’s fans are lobbying for Vick to get his ass in the Atlanta back field again if you ask me.
The psychos of PETA have made it public that they DEMAND Jockey, Gabriel Sanchez to be suspended indefinitely. This was said in today’s AP article about the matter:
PETA faxed a letter Sunday to Kentucky's racing authority claiming the filly was "doubtlessly injured before the finish" and asked that Saez be suspended while Eight Belles' death is investigated. "What we really want to know, did he feel anything along the way?" PETA spokeswoman Kathy Guillermo said. "If he didn't then we can probably blame the fact that they're allowed to whip the horses mercilessly." Guillermo said if Saez is found at fault, the group wants the second-place prize of $400,000 won by Eight Belles to be revoked.
I ask you - who the hell are these people to make such demands? They are a self-imposed animal terrorist group who thinks they are the governing body for creatures of the earth. Their twisted beliefs and irreprehensible rhetoric has lead to violent actions all over the world, and have even condemned groups like the American Cancer Society and Cerebral Palsy amongst others for testing life saving drugs on animals. Many bitch and protest that meat and milk is being served in our school lunch programs. These are the same insaniacs that have bitched about Detroit Red Wing fans slinging deceased octopi to the ice during playoff games and are now fiercely complaining that a “real life” monkey was used to play Chim Chim in the new Speed Racer Movie.
I think what really puts most “normal” people off is that PETA believes that animals are on the same level as human beings. Please PETA, protect the animals that really do need the help and try to be even half as noble as you claim. Now just shut the f@ck up as I enjoy my juicy, medium to rare cheeseburger on my leather recliner. What a bitch, huh?
I hold my finger middle high with defiance until tomorrow,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
Smoking Saves Lives...
Yesterday I had fun on XM’s Ron and Fez show, telling of my cigar excursion to the DR and Honduras. They loved the part that Lew told me to “Shut the f@#k” up on the plane and said that’s what people tell me wherever I go. The show’s producer Earl Douglas worked on the planning of my XM radio pilot show which has been a long time in the making. Afterwards, Ron, Fez, Earl and I strolled thru central park and made our way to Club Macanudo for some fine cuisine and the fruits I brought back from my trip.
When we got to the front door the assistant manager noticed that Fez was wearing sneakers and said he wasn’t allowed in with their dress code. I was surprised because he was dressed nice and no one was in the place yet at 5pm. I felt bad because when you bring a good friend to a place you don’t want that to happen and I should have known. I tried to use my “I’m a known cigar person” status but to no avail. (I’m a fat Polish delegate didn’t cut it either.) We may have had a shot at getting in but the sneaks were like running shoes adorned with nuclear gold stripes so cars can see you easily – and space stations. Ah, no big deal as we embarked on a great little French joint, the type you find in nice sections of Manhattan. Ron, Fez and Earl were incredibly helpful with advise on my upcoming stint for XM.
Well, after dinner, I really wanted to smoke one of the El Rey Del Mundo Robusto Largas I was given in Confradia, Honduras so I made the trek alone to Club Macanudo and watched my New York Rangers stay alive in the NHL playoffs with a 3 – 0 win over the Pittsburgh Penguins. Club Mac really is an awesome place, and general manager James told me that business has been picking up quite a bit over the past year. I think a lot of people have the misconception that it’s a private club for the hoity toity power broker crowd and that’s not true. It’s open to the public and people of all types come to hang out and enjoy, although it is a place where many professionals gather. It is an upscale atmosphere, kind of an old Miami / Cuban décor with a magnificent bar as their centerpiece.
With the smoking laws from hell in cities like New York, it’s awesome to have a place like Club Mac where you can enjoy a wonderful dinner, a tremendous selection of libations, and of course very fine, hand rolled cigars. It is a lively place, not stuffy like some seemed to think, and they even have live music a few nights a week and it really adds to the atmosphere. If you visit the Big Apple, Club Macanudo is a must stop – with shoes of course.
Now speaking of draconian smoking laws, my buddy & Zman blog fan, Eric Ridgley sent me this gem, yesterday. An article that broke in USA Today says…
Study links smoking bans, DUI deaths
The growing number of cities, towns and states banning smoking in bars might be encouraging some patrons to drink and drive, according to a study in the June edition of the Journal of Public Economics. The study found that communities that passed smoking bans from 2000 to 2005 had, on average, a 13% increase in drunken-driving fatalities the following year.
"You have individuals making the choice to find the bar where they can still combine smoking and drinking and it ends up increasing the risk of causing a drunk-driving accident," said Scott Adams, an economics professor at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee who wrote the report with economist Chad Cotti.
The study was based on data from the Fatality Analysis Reporting System of the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) and included 85% of the USA's counties.
Ken Boll, manager of Paul's Club tavern in Madison, Wis., finds the results plausible: "Some people … will drive an extra 3 miles" to smoke.
Bring back smoking in bars and save a life. Man oh man, who’d a think this one?
Have the Swellest of Weekends my Buds,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
May Day, May Day…
The world is in trouble and who can we call on to save us? Well, we’re gonna have to wait for tomorrow, but the Ironman movie will be opening up across America and my 13 year old son and I are more than ready for the show. I am a life long Marvel Comics fan and have always loved the power and brilliance of billionaire, Tony Stark’s alter ego.
Can you imagine billionaire Donald Trump crawling into a titanium suit and duking it out with arch rival and nemesis, the hairy and hideous Rosie-Man, as she rises from her secret lair at the Virgil’s BBQ on 44th Street in Manhattan? The Donald (the perfect super hero name if you ask me) would have to grow an extra head extension for the hair as he uses his secret power - Gargantuan gamma-ego - to fend off his foes! His daughter, Ivanka-Girl would be at his side using her super-stiff and lifeless personality to ward off anyone with an inkling of warmth or charm. And don’t forget Super Don-Jr. who basically has no real power and just gloms off dad.
BAM!
And holy hate speak, Batdude, but Obama-Man has lost a huge chunk of his power over the people in the last few weeks due to his notorious battles with The Revinator Jeremiah! These two were a dynamic duo for over twenty years until the Revinator showed up on You Tube with his hateful and racist crazy talk. And Obama-Man is now dissing his one-time mentor all to save face with the American people. SHINEOLA I SAY! Meanwhile in her secret mansion in the Empire State, Obama-Man’s arch foe, The Hildebeast is using her icey-cold powers to quell the carnival like excitement that once surrounded Illinois’ Super Senator. Will these two major powers destroy one another, leaving The Mighty McCain to rule the free world?
KERPOW!
Can Captain Algoreknob use his corrugated charm to turn the earth green before ten-million football field’s of ice come crashing down onto Newark, New Jersey? Will the axis powers buy into his “Chicken Little” rhetoric and continue hiring the eco-alarmist at $100,000 per speech? Will this brilliant mind who invented the world’s internet ever forget that he lost to GWB? Can he and the Hildebeast work on a secret formula that gives them even the slightest semblance of a personality?
ZAM!
And what of Madame O, formerly known as Oprah-Girl, the super powered femenista who uses her mind control to convince shrews everywhere that they are better than their cigar sucking husbands. Although she possesses little or no talent, this meag-chick controls half the earth’s wealth and is on a quest for total world domination. O, Queen of the Western Hemisphere, inflates to her super-size, then slims, then inflates, then slims, then inflates again! Holy Kirsty Alley, people - how does she do it! Her Super-Pal, Obama-Man has suffered a few nasty blows as of late, so let’s see if she "cleverly" distances herself from her buddy B.O. and the evil Revinator.
BOFF!
Will the Governator of Kallifawnya help the cigar world and vote against the notorious SCHIP Bill as it looks to destroy the tobacco industry with it’s dreaded tax of doom?! I doubt it. He loves cigars, but the guy is a sell out.
ZAP!
Will the evil OPEC Empire turn the screws even further sending the Amazing Uncle Sam’s economy into deeper peril as the price of black gold rises above $200 per barrel? Will General GWB (aka Captain Nuk-u-lar) ever have the gnads to stand up to these bedsheet-shaws and claim an oil well or two in the name of old glory? Will milk or gas be the first to hit ten dollars a gallon?
BLAM!
Wow, after a closer look, the supposed real life Super-Dudes in this world are nothing but over-inflated Super-Duds. The real heroes are the guys and gals defending our United States of America.
I can’t wait for me and Little Z to see Ironman tomorrow. USA Today gave it 3 or 4 stars in today’s edition and said it’s a kind of mix between James Bond and Transformers. I’ll let you guys know how many Stogies I give it next week.
ZMAN ON RON AND FEZ SHOW TODAY AT 2PM
Today I’ll be on the Ron and Fez Show on (XM Satellite Radio 202) around 2pm EST discussing my awesome cigar excursion in Honduras and the Dominican Republic.
You can get a FREE 3 day download of XM Radio on your computer. Takes a couple of minutes to join and you can listen to the Zman’s wacky adventure. They’ll replay the show several times during the week as well.
Click Right Here for Your Free 3 Days of XM
> http://xmro.xmradio.com/xstream/api/show_trial_form.jsp
Rock on my Super Human buds,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
Will the Squeeky Wheel Get the Oil?
If you made a list of the things we Americans are most dependent on, we’d find air, water, food, football, the internet, beer, TV, music, and of course, getting our weasels greased. But now something that you never really considered a necessity in the past is vying for top spot (just behind air, food, and water, and just before the greasing.) I’m talking about gasoline. In the past we just pulled into a gas station and told Habib to filler on up. But the price of gas has basically doubled in the past two years and the part that has us all frantic is – when will it stop going up? It almost feels like water board torture as our mind races and we shake helplessly rolling up to the pump as we grab our ankles and say “thank you sir, may I have another.”
People aren’t even filling up anymore, but going for half a tank and trying to stretch it as much as possible. Remember the days of asking for a quick ten-dollar’s worth? That “might” get you across the street if the attendant even agrees as he’d have his nozzle in your gas hole for all of three seconds. And that’s exactly what’s happening as the oil companies are cramming it up our gasholes for all it’s worth.
Now I know many blame China because those bad driving photo freaks finally decided that cars get the Chan family around better than a Schwinn. But Opec has flat out said that they won’t increase production, knowing they’ve got Uncle Sam’s testicles in a full nelson and they don’t care about the pain it’s causing. All those pricks have to is open the spigots a little longer and we’re all breathing a bit easier, but it ain’t gonna happen. I’d love to see Bush grow a sack and tell the Saudis, “Hey, uh, sorry but ya’ll know those GI’s and them there fancy billion dollar planes we got protecting them oil fields of yours? Well, I’m gonna be sendin’ all of them boys home for the summer, so good luck with your buddies in Iran.” How sweet would that be? I bet those white sheets would turn to brown in about five seconds.
Some of you are saying, “How do you blame the oil companies?” Please just shut your face and look at their quarterly profits. Exxon/Mobil, Sun Oil, Gulf, Texaco and the rest are setting world records, making billions more than ever before. You’re telling me they can’t cut into a tiny bit of the profits in a group effort to save he economy? It sure would be nice to see those heartless bastards use collusion for the good of the people for once.
A couple interesting thoughts here…
Are the oil companies driving prices high to the point of “who cares” because they well know that in ten years we’ll all be running our autos on Orville Reddenbacher anyway? Is Opec saying “who cares” to the U.S. because they know we’re developing other resources and they’re too busy getting richer and fatter by the day via their new asshole buddies in the Orient? Are the gas companies pulling another ruse by getting us to $5 a gallon then lowering it back to $3.50 so we all breathe a false sigh of relief thinking that gas is cheap again? Will they jack it up even higher with the intent that people are literally forced to car pool, use mass transit, or combine their family car trips each day? Will Lassie save Timmy and his family from the collapsing mine shaft in time? This is some pretty heavy shineola to ponder my smoke-sucking brethren.
There’s one acerbic poster on this blog whose answer is for me to stop driving my Jeep Grand Cherokee. Yeah, yeah, that’s the answer all right. ZMAN BUYS A PRIUS - SAVES THE ECONOMY…THE PEOPLE REJOICE! Uh huh. Does going green mean that I “have to” drive a frigging toaster with wheels? And this isn’t even about bitching at the pump anymore because the trickle down effect has become a flowing volcano where goods and services are going through the roof and something we used to refer to as “discretionary income” is going the way of the stegosaurus, the 8-track player, and 80’s hair bands (although Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” just might become the American people’s rallying cry.) The average Joe and family will definitely vacation less this year or not go anywhere at all. Of course that puts a major hit on the airlines, hotels, rental cars, restaurants, theme parks and the tens of thousands of employees who need their 40 hours plus a week to feed their families. Many people are buying strictly necessities at the super market to keep the weekly food bill from going ballistic. Even if I take the family out for a pizza, four bottles of Coke is ten bucks so I got the crew drinking ice water. It’s not only free, but healthier too. The post office is raising their rates again and I think a Fed Ex Standard over night is around seven hundred bucks. You know how they say things come full circle? Can you say Pony Express?
Two days before I left for my trip to the DR and Honduras the price of gas shot up twenty cents in one day. If that keeps happening we’re going to have mass panic. BTW, the price of gas is $6 a gallon in the Dominican Republic and rising just like ours. Half the people drive scooters down there and it’s like Death Race 2000 in the streets. (Holy God, driving there is mass chaos and makes mid-town Manhattan look like Pleasant Valley Sunday.) These small nations whose exports rely on the American dollar are frightened to death about the U.S.’s spiraling economy. The cigar makers know that the moderate smoker will cut down on his spending habits and they said they are feeling it already. Man oh man, what a mess.
I’m not sure if today was a rant, a bitchfest, or a cry for help. I’d say probably all of the above. If this trickle down volcano starts the closing of companies and the loss of many jobs, our new presedente might have another depression to deal with and that’s why something has to be done now. The American public has to become one huge collective squeeky wheel. Either big oil company execs have to give in, the government will have to tap into our oil reserves, or maybe we just claim Saudi Arabia as the United States East. Hey, It’s a thought.
You have a nice day.
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman.
Why Can’t 2…
Why Can’t Reverend Jeremiah Wright just shut the f@#k up, go away and enjoy a nice, quiet retirement?
The former leader of the Trinity United Church of Christ is on a whirlwind tour, speaking his mind and THAT is a very scary thing. What I’m having trouble figuring out is - is he for or against Barrack Obama? - because every time he flaps his gums, Obama’s approval rating drops. Look up the definition of the word “divisive” and the smiling Rev’s picture is there for all to see. If you’ve seen video of his sermons then you know the man preaches hate, racism, and bigotry. He claims his critics are twisting his sermons for political gain, but again, if you watch him in action, his anti-white and anti-American tirades (including the fact that he believes the government has spread AIDS within the black communities to keep “his people” down) are the rantings of a certified sociopathic lunatic. Yesterday Obama released a statement basically saying that, “I don’t speak for him and he doesn’t speak for me.” Too late for damage control my man, cuz this blaze is burnin’ down da house.
Why Can’t fast food sandwiches like a Big Mac or a Whopper look all big and fluffy and pretty like they do on TV?
Every burger I’ve ever bought since childhood looks like Shirley and Rerun from What’s Happenin’ sat on it.
Why Can’t Rosie O’donnell at least put on a little make up?
Every time one of her annoying home made You Tube or blog clips is featured on some TV show, she’s always wearing a mumu and a bandana on her head, with her pasty white skin and dark circles under her eyes like she just went three rounds with Lennox Lewis. And there’s always a group of over-the-top gay guys hanging out with her, flitting around her apartment doing Ethel Merman impersonations. And it’s always when I’m eating. Can’t someone from Revlon pay that butch a visit?
Why Can’t I play golf like Tiger Woods?
Jeez, I putt, chip, hit from the practice tees, damn, I even lust for wicked hot blonde Swedish broads - I mean what the hell? From 200 yards out I’m using a 5 wood and that bastid has a 9 iron in his hands. What gives? I’ve been playing golf since before you were born you little prick, but nooooo, you’ve won 64 PGA tour events and the best I’ve ever done was twelfth place in our yearly Board of Ed fundraiser. Yeah, great, you just turn your nose up at me you high-brow snob-ass elitist. I hope you choke on your hundreds of millions.
Why Can’t Al Goreknob explain why it’ll be the month of May in two days and it’s still in the 50’s in north east United States? Must have something to do with those twelve million football fields of floating ice. Someone please break out a Sanford marker and paint an “L” on Chicken Little’s head.
Why Can’t gorgeous young woman with incredible bodies see the inner beauty of older, overweight, stogie sucking men?
It’s all just so shallow.
Why Can’t company’s like Padron, La Aurora, Davidoff, and Zino, etc, bring their $20 cigars down to around eight or nine bucks?
I saw first hand how cigars are made. I walked the fields, inspected the barns, toured the factories and met the personnel. They’re not using magical leaf cultivated on Saturn and carefully blended with exotic fairy dust. Now I’m not talking about the manufacturers who do use a vintage crop like Macanudo does for their 2000 Vintage line. That cigar is a certified eight years old and one of the finest I’ve smoked in a very long time. The wrapper is impeccable and it is complex and bursting with delicious tobacco flavors. – Highly recommended you try at east one. - I’m referring to the aforementioned companies who put out some really nice cigars, but the price points are not what they “need” to be. I love Padron Anniversarios, both the 64’s and the 26’s, but I only buy them on special occasions. If they were in the $8 - $9 range I’d smoke them all of the time. Unless the Padron’s and the others do have a tobacco fairy on the payroll, they shouldn’t be hammering their customers when it’s not necessary. As an ex-advertising guy, I can tell you that they’re going for the “perceived value” thing and many out there are gobbling it up with a spoon. It’s all just marketing BS, my friends.
Oh my God… I’m starting to sound like Lew.
Til tomorrow My Peeps,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog with the Zman
Why Can’t…
There are certain things that perplex the mind and we ask ourselves for the answer, but to no avail. Sometimes my cerebellum runs amuck as I search for the truth but come up with diddly squat. So, I present the infantile queries of my brain for you to ponder as well. I’m sure everyone has a few of their own to share with the group.
Why can’t broccoli taste like a White Castle Slider?
I’ve been asking this since I’m like five years old but no genius out there can come up with the solution. Good God, the world would be so friggin healthy it would be stupid. And while we’re at it, let’s get brussels sprouts to taste like fries. Right now it’s the only food I know that actually tastes like a fart.
Why Can’t the Hildebeast and Obama-rama stop killing each other publically?
It’s beyond all reason that these two numbskulls can’t focus on the issues as their bulbous egos jockey for the top spot of the Democratic Party. After the Bush debacle, liberals should take the 2008 election in landslide proportions, but guess what?…that ain’t gonna happen. They’ve given their opponent enough fodder and ammo to take them down, and quite easily I might add. With Obama’s fun-loving minister coming to the forefront and his experience before becoming a senator being that of a cubscout master, this smooth talking beacon of hope’s light is barely flickering. Hilde’s Pennsylvania triumph became the giant floating turd in Barrack’s party-time pool. I don’t give a rat’s blower who black’s, women, or the Hollyweird faithful pulls the lever for – these chuckleheads have both become unelectable. Did I piss you off? Oooops...Sorry.
Why can’t Lucky Charms cereal just be all marshmallows?
Another age old, childhood question that has plagued me for decades. Everyone knows the oats taste like rabbit pellets and I’m the one who turns the box on its side, pilfering all of those yellow moons, pink hearts, orange stars, and green clovers. That’s right, they’re magically delicious and I’m a marshmallow whore so go get your own f@#king box.
Why can’t we stop being infatuated with the characters on the Sopranos and realize that they are all sociopathic, scumbag hoodlums?
America’s love affair ran nine long years as our Sunday’s were dedicated to wondering “who’s gonna get wacked tonight?” The merciless beatings, curbings, bludgeonings, and flow of blood turned good-hearted, decent, and loving people like you and I into ruthless, dirtbags, rooting for Tony to skate past the Feds week in and week out. What the hell is wrong with us? The New Jersey and New York crime families on the show were devoid of all morals and values and would turn on their own in an instant to get one step ahead. In the episode during the final season where the car flips and Tony covers his nephew Christopher’s air passage and kills him off, I realized at that moment how evil and selfish Tony Soprano really was. Like many viewers I gasped in horror and disgust at what took place and had only one question left on my mind, “Can’t we have just one more season…please?”
Why can’t the government finally just admit that cigar smoking is good for you?
90% of the low-life politico dirtloads smoke fine cigars and they damned well know what the simple act of drawing on a fine puro does for the mind, body, and soul. Cigar smoking relaxes us when we need it most and brings us to a much-needed place of tranquility. Senators, congressmen and legislators alike often seek refuge with a cigar and libation of choice, but the problem is that they are politicians and lifetime politicians lie, cheat, and speak out of their ass instead of the place they rest their cigar. Since smoking has been deemed evil by the fundamentalist, politically correct, sabre wielding smoke Nazis, the politicos must put aside their love of the leaf in favor of garnering votes. Hypocrisy in big government?…..NOOOOO!
Why can’t Oprah Winfrey stop her torrid attempt at world domination?
What the hell lady, enough already. People call Donald Trump a massive egotist because he brands everything under his name, but Oprah does no different. The queen of the earth now even has a department store in Chicago named after her. How in the name of God did Harpo get so damned powerful? She’s not attractive, she can’t sing, act, juggle on a unicycle or spin plates on sticks. If she mentions your book or website you’re an overnight millionaire and when she dissed the beef industry a few years ago people started eating salad (all except for her.) She made Dr. Phil of Shit and Rachael Bobblehead Ray household names and for that we should all be pissed. I’m the typical guy who doesn’t get it and never will.
Damned my brain hurts and that’s enough for today. You got a “Why Can’t” for the group?
It's good to be back the the U.S. of A.,
Tommy Z.
JR Cigar Blog With the Zman
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