All She Had On Was The Radio

Every once in a while I feel that I can share a little bit about my personal life without giving away that I’m actually a living breathing human being who has a life outside everything else I do. I had a funny haha last week that I think y’all could see how one line of text can have a thousand meanings on one’s head when, in reality, it was an attention getter to intentionally mislead me, to distract me from what I was actually doing at the time. Luckily, for me, I was intrigued enough to investigate. Let’s set up the plot, I was outside messing around with my daughter’s car, maintenance mostly, new air cleaner, windshield wiper replacement, windshield wiper fluid refill, and a taillight bulb replacement. Simple enough, something she asked that I do while she was out of town. In fact, the house was empty with the exception of my wife and I. That whole scenario can lead to big trouble, usually means I’m steam cleaning the carpet. So, being outside taking care of little things that needed to be done was just fine with me. At about lunch time I start getting texts asking if I’m hungry, asking what I’m doing, and how long I was going to be, tell you the truth I was starting to get annoyed a bit, telling her to bring her ass outside if she was so curious. Then there was about thirty minutes of silence.

Then she sends this text, “all I have on is the radio, want to dance?” It was drizzling out, I was all but done outside anyway, so I didn’t answer the text, I don’t think I was supposed to, I think I did the right thing by just going inside to see what in the world was going on. I opened the door to a quiet house, and all I could hear was the radio coming from the back bedroom, my bedroom. First I did stop by the kitchen, which was on the way, to wash my hands and to get a drink of water, then I followed the song on the radio that was playing. I was lead to the bathroom in fact, where I find my wife taking a bubble bath, then she tells me that she told me all she had on was the radio. I will leave the rest to your imagination, if you have one, if not then just know that we both had a nice candle lit bubble bath together.

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Later on in the afternoon she wanted to get out of the house, to go somewhere, just go out to get out of the house, no kids, no wondering what the kids would do for dinner, nothing, just go for a drive and see where we end up. So, she got all dolled up, wearing my favorite jeans, a ZZ Top t-shirt, and her hair pulled back in a tight pony tail. She’s up to something, I just know it. We drove around in her new mustang for a few hours, she makes me drive, I don’t know, its weird with her, if I’m in the car she wants me to do the driving, been like that since day one. I thought it would change with her new car, but no, same old habits. What if I want to get chauffeured every once in a while? I’ve learned, don’t ask that particular question to her, it doesn’t end well at all. I just figure if we are in her car that she would want to drive. After not eating lunch I was starting to get real hungry, I asked if she had any suggestions, no of course, said for me to pick. Fine, I pick Joe’s Crab Shack, it was close and I haven’t been there in a few years. Dinner was good, margaritas were decent, and my company was very good. It gave us an opportunity to talk, to have a “date night”, and just be us for once in so many years. I get it, we don’t get allot of one on one time, we are always doing something, or we always have the kids tagging along, so it was, in fact, very weird, a little too quiet if you ask me. But, it was a fantastic night, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, never, we need many more of these “date nights”.

Soon enough, we would leave, she wanted to head across the freeway to go to the mall for a few minutes, she wanted to go in to get some makeup that they only sell at the one store. I knew it, I knew there was a plot, I new it was too good to be true, I knew I just gave up the next hour of my life because we cant decide which shade of black she wants for eyeliner. Of course, I’ve been a victim in this store before, I hate this store, so much I can’t bring myself to even type the fucking name. Plus, she asks me, the colorblind motherfucker, which color do I like, I always just answer with the one that has the cool, off the wall name, has kept me out of trouble for many years. This time, with no kids, I had no excuse to go to the Lego store or to Brookstone, I had to go in, her not letting go of my hand was the tell tale sign for me, I was already getting the cold sweats, fuck I hate this store. As a pleasant surprise, she walks in, never letting go of my hand, because I would have run for cover and she knows it, she picked up what she came in for, a compact of something or another, and we then checked out, we were in this beast of a pit less than five minutes, tops. Not a word from me either, and not a word from her either, we were just done, just in and out, scary.

Then we head to Sears, where I get told to hang out for a while, and that she would return for me shortly. Huh? She tells me to just roll with it, don’t worry about it, she would be back. Well, okay then, I shall just wander around Sears for a “while”. I didn’t see much I haven’t seen before, same tools, same lawn mowers and lawn shit, same beds, same vacuum cleaners, same appliances, and the same conditions at the shoe department, nice shoes I like, decent prices, but only go up to size 13, which is bullshit. Why can’t we just carry size 16 so I can at least try them on? But then again, that is the same scenario at all shoe stores in the mall, which is also bullshit. So, I’ve managed to kill almost thirty minutes and still no wife, so I make my way to the jewelry counter, not getting anything, just wanted to get my watch cleaned, they use one of those sonic washers which is pretty cool, gets all the muck out of the crevices. Just before the lady is done with my watch my wife slinks up behind me, wanting to know what I was buying. Then she sees the lady bringing my shiny black watch back and then she knows I’m not buying anything, no need to, I bought this very Fossil Relic watch in November of 1999 and it’s never, not once, given me any shit or reason to replace it, I make Father’s Day, birthdays, and Christmas a bitch for everyone, because a watch is never an option. After putting old faithful back on my wrist I notice she is carrying a Victoria’s Secret bag, which she will NOT let me look into. Trust me, I tried, no dice. How rude. Hand in hand we leave Sears, one more stop I’m told, which is good, its 8:45, and the mall closes in fifteen minutes, bonus.

We end up at Hollister, not my favorite, yet not the worst place to shop for women’s clothing. But, damn, this place is so expensive, I always expect to have to pay some kind of “cover” every time I walk thru the doors. This one is cool though, the entire staff is all female, dress like strippers, the lights are down low, the music is always bumping, and they offer complimentary bottled water. Plus, Plus, Plus, and Plus for me. Okay, she shops here at the teenie bopper store because they carry her size, “0”, and the only other place that carries that size in most of the pants is Guess, but she has never been let down here. I took a seat, she begins the hunt, she’s like a lioness on the prowl, stalking her prey on the open savanna, and when she finds the one that catches her eye, she pounces. It’s fun to watch, deadly on the wallet, but still I appreciate watching this part of the “chase”. She finds three pair, all blingless, all slightly torn in various places, but ones she seems to like. Off to the changing room, let the show begin! My wife is a natural born tease, she knows I still check out her ass, she knows my eyes still follow her around as she passes by, so, she abuses me with it, and she knows she is doing it. I liked all three, well, two of them, the stretchy ones I really don’t like. They look like jeans, don’t feel like jeans, and just “aren’t right” in some weird old school way. I know, I’m showing my age here, I cant help it, I don’t like them, they just aren’t right. The other two, perfect, absolutely perfect!

Now we head out of the mall, my wife reluctant to let me carry the bags, which is odd, I’m the guy you always see carrying the bags, but not tonight, which is fine, its weird, but fine. Get out to the car, bags in the truck, out of sight, and we head on home. When we get there, now nine-thirtyish, I settle into my chair, flip on the television, and find I have missed the first half of River Monsters, oh well, he never finds the big monsters until the end of the show anyway, that man pulls some fucked up fish from the depths of the rivers and lakes, and just think I used to like going out on the water, but now that I know it’s full of all the different kinds of “nopefish” I may just have to stick to the cement ponds. I never bothered turning on any lights because I didn’t plan on being out there in the living room very long anyway. You know that eerie feeling you get when you just know there is someone behind you, the feeling that makes all the short hairs on your body become electrified? I got that feeling, soon after I feel the cool hands I know so well, come across my shoulders. She held my head so I couldn’t turn my head, told me to close my eyes, and I feel her hands leave me. Moments later, I open my eyes to see my wife wearing what she bought at Victoria’s Secret. Um, OMFG!

By the morning the house was full with kids again, the hustle and bustle of everyone getting ready for work and for school. It was nice while it lasted, the quiet times, the time with my wife alone, and the not having to worry about everything happing around us. Out of the blue I get a kiss on the cheek from my daughter and a thank you for taking care of her car. My son, gives me a fist bump, he’s getting too old to hug me I guess, all of thirteen. As I stand in front of the kitchen sink taking my medications I feel a familiar touch of a cool hand going under my shirt onto my back, and then a kiss between the shoulder blades. No good morning, not that I usually get a verbal good morning, just what I got, it was nice, real nice. Then as softly as she appeared she slinked into the shadows of the hallway heading to the bedroom, undoubtedly to finish getting dressed for work. As I drove off to work I remembered that the entire day prior all started with a clever text, “all I have on is the radio”, what a nice thought.

Bulleit Bourbon Bleu Cheese Overly Stuffed Burger Insanity

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Every once in a while I like to share the preparation of something I really enjoy making, and in my own opinion, tastes great. Tonight I made what I call “Bulleit Bourbon Bleu Cheese Overly Stuffed Burger Insanity” and here is what is involved. Just remember, y’all will always have the choice to use your own imagination to stuff your own meat mountains like y’all want. My method is simple here and actually results in something to eat on a bun or on it’s own, your choice entirely.

To begin with, line 9″ X 13″ cookie sheet with wax or parchment paper and then spread 5 pounds of uncooked lean ground beef across the span of cookie sheet.  Spread the meat as thick or thin as you like, keeping in mind that this thickness will more than double once stuffed and folded.

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Spread stuffing ingredients over 1/2 of the pressed out slab of beef. In this case, I used a sauce I created using Bulleit Bourbon, bleu cheese and green olives. See the end of the post for the sauce ingredients if y’all are interested.

From the end with no ingredients, carefully lift wax paper and burger to fold over the top of the ingredient side. Once folded, pinch edges to hold ingredients into the loaf.  With a pizza cutter, square out portions as desired.  Depending on your ingredients, you may or may not want to pinch off edges of each patty.  Personally, I like the dripping edge on the burgers but that’s just the choice I have always made.

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Get creative with your stuffing ingredients and try different combinations over time. Use different cheese, add vegetables, hash browns, pizza style stuffings, taco style stuffings, BBQ style, Asian style, breakfast style. This ain’t BK, make it YOUR way!

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Here we have the stuffed burgers still on the grill.  Nice, big plump, and very juicy burgers that never made it into a bun!  These came out very huge, like a kind of stuffed meatloaf of sorts. As y’all can see, portioning the ingredients while setting the ingredients would make a cleaner burger but I like this wall to wall stuffed burger way. I chose to top the well stuffed burgers with bacon and baby swiss cheese to bring all the vast and tasty flavors together in unity.

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As far as the sauce goes, put 1/5 of the bottle of bourbon with 1 1/2 cup diced fresh tomatoes, 1 cup brown sugar, 1 tbsp Tabasco sauce, 1 tbsp worchestershire sauce, 1 cup fresh orange juice, 1 tbsp lime juice, 1 whole medium jalapeño, salt and black pepper to taste into the blender and puree until creamy. Remaining sauce can be used to glaze while grilling or dipping when dining.

The Twisted Date With My Ex-Wife

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I have been sitting here going over the meeting I had with my ex-wife on Saturday and for the life if me could not think of a title to refer to this post. Then it occurred to me, just call it what it is because there is no other explanation. I’ve mentioned it has been easily five years since I have seen my ex in person and at that time the only words spoken were fuck you as we passed by one another in a crowded gymnasium for our daughter’s high school graduation. I guess I wasn’t paying attention to her looks then since I can’t for the life of me remember. That becomes important here in a bit. I was going to give y’all a play by play of the evening, but there would be way too much quoting am I’m feeling lazy tonight. The picture above is important as well, remember that in this relationship with my ex I am always the mongoose.

At a little after 7pm the intercom for the front gate pops up my phone, since I get the video as well I knew exactly who it was, how nice for her I thought, over 2 hours late. Since I was out in my shop I opened the gate, instructing her to park in the drive, and then wait for me because I had to walk back up to the house. A few minutes later the door to the shop opened and there my ex stood. Shaking my head I told her since she couldn’t listen and wait, go ahead and get in the truck so we can head back up to the house. Her only comment to me was how, in her opinion, my shop was kinds messy. Great, thanks for noticing. Being overly polite I asked her if she would like to come in to see the house while I grabbed her package. She didn’t say yes or no, she just got out and started walking to the back door. Whatever. When we came into the kitchen my wife and son were sitting at the bar eating some cherries. The two women gave that look to one another that women do, stating dominance to the other while being grinned back at. I know you people have seen this exchange before. It was the first time these two have ever been this close to one another, like seven feet or so, with very sharp knives in both their reach.

Now, as we walked out the door I noticed something I haven’t even thought to think about since the mid 90s, but the swing of her ass caught my eye. It was strange, very strange. We got into my truck to go eat, discuss her problems with the IRS, and then head back to my housee so she could get the hell on her way. We went to a favorite place if mine, The Texas Roadhouse (I know, how cliche), neither of us ordered alcohol, in fact we both ordered food right away. I had prime rib because we were at a steak house, she ordered a salad, because we were at a steak house. Apparently she no longer eats the flesh of animals, glad I ordered my very bloody rare. She brought up the papers, if she could see them, and I pulled out the document releasing me from any further legal liability. At first she refused, dinner was over, she paid, and we left. There was absolute silence driving back except for the Ozzy I had playing on the radio. We pulled up to the house, I told her goodbye, and I was heading into the house. I almost made it, her pride almost made this whole adventure worth it, but then she called me by my actual name, asking me to wait because she wanted to sign the papers so she could have her copies. Fair enough.

It was done, I went inside to make a copy, and then I went back out. When I handed her everything she purposely let her hand gently touch the back of mine. Then it hit me, bitch you are sting a low life cunt. We were done. I went in and she drove down the driveway. I grabbed my cigarettes and two bottles of water, then went back out to the deck, lit my tikis, and had a seat at the table. The inky thing I was thinking was I was glad the night was over. She will never change, she always believed that she could not fail, perhaps I should introduce myself now. I should have just mailed her shit to her, a day late.oh well, the deed is done and that is that.

My evening ended on a positive note though, my wife came out the back door, walked up to me, put her arms around my neck from behind, kissed me on the cheek, and then slinked over to the hot tub not wearing a stitch. She always knows how to bring a genuine smile to my face. And that, my friends, is where this story ends.

I Do Really Hate Getting Caught

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I do really hate getting caught, especially when what I was doing wasn’t actually wrong or Illegal. But, as it stands, last night I got caught getting my tips from the club last week ready to go to the bank so I could pay some bills today or tomorrow. I will explain the money part of that in a bit because I know someone is going to ask about it. So, yesterday evening all the kids were gone, dinner was on the grill, and I remembered I needed to go to the bank. Now, I don’t keep secrets about money from my wife, she knows I make a decent amount in tips bartending. She knows I also get a paycheck, she knows I’m a 10-99 employee as well which means we save 20% of my earnings to pay Uncle Sam in January. What she has yet to figure out is why a bartender in a full nude strip club is paid what I get paid. But, the money is the reason I am there. I can’t help it I am able to negotiate what my time and services are worth. A while back, when I started back, I agreed to work Wednesday and Thursday nights, roughly 30 hours between the two days, for $1200.00 since I knew I would be paying my own taxes.

Plus, as bartender I keep ALL of my tips, but I also get 5% of the tips to the waitresses, and 1% of the tips from the dancers. Doesn’t sound like much does it? The stack of money on the table represents my tips plus the additional tip outs from the dancers and waitresses. The bundles are $100.00 if you are counting. Since I report and pay taxes on this as well, it all stays well documented. Which, is what I was doing last night when my wife came strolling into the dining room, home early from work. She had a surprised look on her face, like I just showed her a sasquatch body laying on the table after varmint hunting. Needless to say, she wasn’t ever aware that at anytime during the week there is a similar amount of money tucked away in the safe. Then the conversation got ugly. Supposedly I am hiding it from her because she has been unaware. I tried to explain it all goes to our joint checking account, minus what goes to a separate joint savings account for taxes. Still not believing me I had to get my tablet so we could explore the last few months of Wells Fargo deposits. A new bit of information came to light that I was unaware of, she doesn’t pay attention to the account balances. How the hell not? Well, seems that since I have always been the monthly bill payer that I would let her know if there is a problem so she never worried about it.

Yet, I am the one being told I’m hiding money from her. I still can’t wrap my head around it because it seems like a bizarre way of thinking. Then, this morning it hits me, its because I am the man and she is the woman, therefore I am automatically wrong. But, I have a frugal wife, she is not a spend-o-holic, she believes, as I do, that we will want to take trips, pay for college, and still one day retire. So, I have no complaints in that department. No other department either really, perhaps the jumping to conclusions part, but we argue and communicate very well with each other. In the end, we spent a few hours in the hot tub drinking margaritas and not talking about work, money, or our worries. We just sat there butt-ass naked enjoying each other’s company under the partly cloudy sky listening to the hum of the margarita machine churning out the next batch. All and all, after dinner, the hot tub, and the excellent margaritas, we went to bed with smiles on our faces. She mentioned this morning that I’m still an asshole but she still loves me.

Challenge Accepted By My Son

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Over the weekend we found ourselves at the mall for a bite to eat and then to see the movie Maleficent. The restaurant of choice was a Mexican one, I was voted down 4 to 1, but in my defense Casa Ole is not my favorite place in the world. To be perfectly honest, I’m not even a fan of Mexican food and I always get the same damn thing every damn time, chicken fajitas for two with all the bullshit on a side plate. Pictured above is the side plate in question which is chock full of the crap I will not be putting into my tortillas, ever. Really and truly it is an absolute waste to bring it to the table because it is rarely, if ever, touched.

This day, not unlike any other time coming to the mall (gag), my son was fired up and wanted to go to GameStop, a place he likes to try to get me to separate myself from some of my money in exchange for his newest favorite game of all time. Many times it is okay because he spends some of his money too. But not this time, this time he came with empty pockets, so he has been trying to convince me to “loan” him the money until we get home. Where is the fun in that? Then it hit me! I know how to end all of this game shopping business. I put my plate of cheese, sour cream, guacamole, pico, jalapeños, and spiced tomatoes in front of him and explained that if he cleaned the plate I would take him to GameStop to spend up to $100 any way he wanted. He looked at the plate for a few minutes and then accepted my challenge. He was allowed to eat it any way he pleased and could put it on his own food if he liked. I had so much faith in him completing this challenge that I even had a side bet going that he would do it.

As time passed he began nibbling at the edges, he planned in saving the guacamole til last because he really likes guacamole. Now, I have seen some pucker faces, I have seen some gag faces, and I have seen faces of disgust, but some if his faces were brand new to me. About ten minutes into it all my wife the party pooper decided it was over, challenge canceled. Why? Because my son sat directly across from her and she feared inevitably having projectile vomit coming her way soon based in the faces and reactions he was displaying. So, I keep my money. He said he couldn’t do any more anyways so whether it was ended prematurely by his mother is really a moog point now. But I lost my side bet because he failed the challenge.

As we discussed the challenge while walking to the movieplex I realized I had made a fatal mistake and it was now being pointed out by my son. The mistake? I said he had to clean the plate not eat everything on the plate. Eating it all was merely implied. He said he had given thought to scraping the plates contents into another plate but figured I would raise the bullshit flag in protect. I told him I would if honored it because of my oversight and his keen ability to seek the technicality. Something that won’t happen in the future I promise. As far as the movie Maleficent, I wasn’t a fan at all because Angelina Jolie was the only thing that kept me from napping. And I was surprised, we walked by GameStop twice and not a word from my son. We both learned our lessons and we will both come back next time better prepared.

 

 

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