Friday, October 18, 2019


Howdy, my name is Chester, of Chester’s Sloppy Seconds, and I’m proud to announce that our restaurant has just received its first Michelin Star from the Michelin Guide to Toad Scrotum, Montana. What is a Michelin Star, you may be wonderin? Good question! I plum didn’t know myself until I went down to the ”library” (not quite sure what that is either, to be honest) and used one of them com-pu-tors to look it up.

It turns out that the Michelin Guide is some world-renowned French thingy where they offer maps and locations of gas stations and boulangeries and they rate area hotels and restaurants. Looks like we made the big time!

Our current rating of one star means “A very good restaurant in its category.” I’m not entirely sure what that means, but if our category is “freshest meat from the side of the road to your plate” you’re damn straight we’re the best!

So, in honor of our new award, we here at Chester’s Sloppy Seconds, are having a celebration and passing the flavorosity on to you, the patrons!


Come on in to the restaurant. Don’t be shy now, I know Bubba looks like he’ll bite your leg off, but he’s just a big old puppy dog. We only keep him tied out front so that he won’t get at the yard birds in the back. Hell, one week, Bubba got into them chickens and we had to serve frog legs as chicken wings, and nobody was the wiser. Come to think of it, maybe that’s the week that Michelin “inspector” moseyed on through and eatin them frog legs reminded him of back home in Frenchy-Land. Wouldn’t that beat all!

Anyway, as I was sayin, come on through, avoid Bubba and those rusted out cars and refrigerators on the lawn, those rusty edges won’t do you no good. And get yourself set so’s you can enjoy any one of our appetizers, half off! (for a limited time) We have:

Deep Fried Rocky Mountain Oysters (on the half-shell)
Saut√©ed “Queue de Souris” on a bed of baby rice
Chicken Wings *wink* with celery and pencil shavings
Hamburger Sliders, now with beef

Or you can have our “Soup Du Jour,” or a salad. We like to keep our salads as fresh as possible, so depending on the season and the last time Cletus mowed the lawn, you can enjoy some delicious greens.

Besides our half off apps, we are also offering, for a short time, a special deal. You bring in your own road kill and we’ll cook it up for you on the cheap! There’s no better deal than that! Oh wait, there is! Bring in any game you bag that day and we will prepare it to your liking. Please remember to remove all buckshot first, it makes chewing easier.

What about dessert? I’ll tell you what about desert! Homemade ice cream using the rock salt that is used to salt the roads in the winter, so you know its quality cream! Flavors include, but are not limited to: Vanilla, Chocolate, Possum, Orangina, Toes, Bud Light, Real Chocolate, Rubber, Appleberrry, Long johns, Lettuce and Chode, (my favorite!).

Well, that’s all the time I gots in this here commercial, but be sure to stop on by Chester’s Sloppy Seconds for a full look at our menu. We gots all types of seafood, or at least water-based animals, and our entrees can’t be beat. Why, lets just ask this fellow over here!

“Say stranger, how’re them eats treatin you today?”
“Well Chester…”
“You don’t know me, remember? Follow the script.”
“But the restaurant is named after you, plus we go fishing every Sund…”

Yep that’s right folks, the food is so good, it done made this fella delusional. And who doesn’t want that in a good meal?!

So hitch a ride, drive a tractor or ride moose, bring the wife and kids. Hell, bring the sister/wife, we don’t judge down here. My sister is also my mom, so you’re in good company. Come and enjoy the full dining experience of haute cuisine at Chester’s Sloppy Seconds today!

*Take I-666 for seven miles past Old Doc Brooks’ feed bag, until you see a dirt road exit on your right. Be sure to be driving some sort of four-wheeler, those puddles on the track can get up to three feet deep in the summer. And don’t even get me started on the mud. Anyway, stay on that for a couple of miles, try to avoid the indigenous, radioactive, cannibal rednecks and you’ll be at the restaurant in no time!*

Wednesday, October 16, 2019

Reading Tea Leaves Part 1

Some things in life cannot be controlled. Some things defy logic and reason. Science cannot explain them. Jesus is stumped and Neil DeGrasse Tyson can only look on in perplexity. When these things happen and when future events must be predicted, Swami Josh says there is only one place to look:
To the stars…

March 20-April 20

Aries, as the first in the Astrological signs, yours is what sets the tone for the rest of the Zodiac. Good for you! Fortune favors the bold! In fact, you should keep the ball rolling on the whole being first thing. Need to get on the bus or the subway? Push everybody else out of your way. Is it either you or that old lady for the last seat? Not anymore. You snooze, you lose, granny!

Let’s take it further. You should most certainly be the first person to buy whatever new technology comes out, whether you need it or not. For you, this is a continuing trend. I know you bought that Google Glass the day it came out. How’s that working out for you? Perfectly, I’m guessing. Keep it up buddy! ­

April 20-May 21

I might be a prognosticator and all, but right off the bat, I’m gonna tell you that these “cusp” dates make no sense and are only going to make for future trouble. But hey, I didn’t make the rules, so let’s just get into it.

So, Taurus, how’s it going? How’re your parents? They get that garden set up? They’d better hurry, it’s almost summer. Oh well, none of it matters anyway. Because they’re about to die from Dengue Fever. 

Yeah, sorry about that. Turns out their rain garden has the perfect compilation of stagnant standing water and African foliage to attract tsetse flies (who knew?*). Their fates are sealed. So, knowing that, now is the time to really cozy up to them and make sure you get a nice juicy cut in their wills. Tell your sister to screw off.

Buy a boat. You’ll see why…

May 21-June 21

Hey Gemini, do you remember the American Gladiator of the same name? What was that about? And did anybody ever win that show? I know I could have totally dodged all those damn tennis balls.

But I digress.

Alright Gemini, I’m gonna lay it out straight. I know you’re a smart cat, you don’t believe in all that “retrograde,” “waxing” and “waning” junk. You’re too clever, too on the ball. You see right through all these “predictions”, so there’s no use trying to trick you. I like that. You’re a solid, reasonable person, and you have a good point. All of these free “horoscopes” are for chumps. If I was really going to tell somebody their future, their future where they could end up being millionaires or famous movie stars, why would I give that information away for free? That’s a bad business model right there and benefits nobody. So let me tell you my secret. The REAL horoscopes are part of a monthly subscription service I run. For a low $50 per month, I will hook you up with the quality horoscopes. You will get only the finest of tea leaf-readings, crystal ball-gazing and tarot card-flipping. DM me for information. Be sure to have your credit card number ready. Trust me.

June 21-July 23

Cancer, first things first. Why the hell is your symbol a lobster? I know trying to symbolize cancer isn’t easy, but a lobster? You should be ashamed! Even Gemini’s two naked dudes shaking hands is better than a lobster, (but just barely). Why not a lit cigarette, or a cell phone next to somebody’s head? Those are both valid cancer symbols.

Anyway, Cancers! Listen to me and listen to me well! Do not say anything. Do not question my methods. Do not pass Go or collect $200. Know and obey only this: You can only wear blue socks on your left foot for the rest of the year. It’s the only way. The only way for what? I told you to not ask questions! Damn, you just ruined the whole thing. If you can’t even follow simple directions, then what’s the point?

Good luck Cancer, you’re on your own.

Alright, That’s all for now. Using my spiritual juices has left me spent and drained. I must go rest and regain my otherworldly powers for further predictions. And for now, Swami Josh shall repose.

*I did. I know all.

Monday, October 14, 2019

Veni, Vidi, Vici, Columbus Style

Gather ‘round children, and come hear the wondrous tale of the most amazing and adventurous explorer who ever sailed the eight seas! (People think there are only seven, but you gotta use the Konami Code to unlock the eighth one.) Of course, I am speaking of Captain Jack Sparrow!

Oh wait, I’m being told that’s incorrect. I guess I meant to say Christopher Columbus. Really? That Turd Ferguson? Seems a lot less interesting. Does he at least fight a kraken? No? What about Cluthlu? Shit. A penguin? Alright, fine. I’ll take it from the top.

Gather ‘round boys and girls, and make sure to bring that bottle of jack with you, cause you’re in for a mind-bendingly stupid story about money, avarice, religion, selfishness, tyranny, spices,* colonization, slavery and really bad navigational skills. No ninja though, so get that idea out of your head right now and settle in for a bunch of garbage.

Once upon a time that was this Italian cat named Christopher “Salami Pants” Columbus. From an early age, Chris used to love being out at sea, sometimes even in a boat. His nautical journeys led him as far north as Iceland (to rock out to some brutal 15th century speed lute, no doubt) and as far south as Ghana. Truly he was all about that Waterworld life.

At some point, in ways that baffle historians to this day, Christopher “Take the Canoli” Columbus was able to convince the rulers of Castile and Aragon that he could get them some bomb ass spices from the Far East, by going west. Truly, when this decision was made, it was in a room of geniuses.

Columbus: Okay your highnesses, dig this: I have figured out that the best way to get to the Far East, (hold on to your king hats for this) is to…GO WEST!!!!
Monarchs of Castile and Aragorn: Seems legit.

So, with that impeachable logic, in 1492, Columbus and his bosun mate Smee got into their three ships the Nina, the Pinta and the General Lee and set sail in the exact opposite direction of the place they wanted to go. Because, exploration! Or something.

Let me give a little backstory here. You see, back in the old days, spices were very important in the consumption of food, because food back then suuuuuuuuucked. So bland. So much tasteless mush in your mouth. And because neither Cholula nor Siracha had been invented yet, people had to find other ways to bring their dishes to life. Luckily India was around and those Indians never found a spice or leaf or seed they wouldn’t eat. It was a very aromatic country. Fun fact, the Indians also invented toilet paper. For obvious reasons. So spices were highly regarded in the Old World. A handful of turmeric would easily get you one night with a syphilitic Portuguese hooker. So, you know, spices.

Anywho, after 40 monotonous days and 40 boring nights, (I think that’s right) C-Dawg and his crew arrived in the Bahamas, healthy, full of vim and vinegar and fewer instances of oceanic debauchery and sodomy than one would have expected.

Now a normal person, i.e. you or me, upon arrival in the Bahamas, would get some kind of lovely adult beverage in a coconut cup and chill out at the beach scoping the fly hunnies all day. But as previously established, Columbus doesn’t think like a normal person. Realizing that there were no spices to be had and that he had committed a royal boner, Chrissy-poo decided to snatch up some natives and bring them back instead. “Spices, people, they’re pretty much the same thing, right?” he mused.

Apparently, the monarchs of the countries that sponsored him lived entirely on a diet of lead paint chips, because they sent Columbus back three more times to get that shit right. Or maybe Columbus was just a really smelly guy and they didn’t want him around stinking up the place. The truth is lost to the ages.

Now, as people have come to learn in the lasts few decades and as they grow older in life, is that the story of Chris “I directed the first two Harry Potter movies” Columbus isn’t as cut and dry as they try to teach our simple-minded selves in elementary school. Columbus managed to reach just about every island to the east of North America, without setting foot in our actual country at all. He hit up Hispaniola (and lived there for a while, bedding those indigenous wenches) Haiti, (bedding some zombified wenches) Trinidad and Cuba, where he had a really good sandwich.

And as we also know, those wacky Vikings had beat Columbus to actual North America 500 years prior. As featured in the oft overlooked Karl Urban movie Pathfinder. That movie was tits! Not to be outdone, and being the trendsetter that he was, Columbus played a very large role in the extinction of the Taino people of the Caribbean. What a classy guy.

These days, people get up in arms about our having a national holiday named after this dude. There is a strong movement to change Columbus Day to Indigenous Peoples Day. They claim that Columbus was a real asshole and his actions and love of slavery and burning shit to the ground should not serve as a role model for current and future generations. And who knows kiddies, they may be right. While it’s true that he sounds like a bad dude, who sowed misery and pain everywhere he went, on the other hand, he inspired and age of exploration in the New World so that others could get in on that misery and pain game. It’s a bit of a gray area. But you wanna know what I think about Christopher Columbus?

That son-of-a-bitch didn’t ever manage to find Waldo.

*He who controls the spice, controls the universe.

Friday, October 11, 2019

Let's Never Do The Time Warp Again

Recently, for the “podcast” Saturday Morning Something or other… in which I’m involved (the word is in quotes because like many things I’m involved with, it’s a bit questionable*) my co-host and I went to a midnight screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

For those not in the know about midnight screenings of said movie, allow me to elucidate you. The Rocky Horror Picture Show (from hereon out to be referred to as TRHPS to save me from having to type that shit out every time) is a bad 70s horror-spoof musical movie based on a bad 70s horror spoof musical stage play. It’s about sweet transvestite aliens from the planet Transsexual and the wacky sexual hijinks they get into while on Earth. There are songs, plenty of dancing and even an orgy in a pool. It’s one of Tim Curry’s best performances.

Unfortunately, when the movie was released in theaters, it bombed like the Enola Gay. ** A year later it was played in a New York theater around midnight, garnered (I’ve always wondered about that word, how does one ‘garner’ something?) a cult following and arguably became the first audience participation movie.

An AP movie is a movie wherein people interact with what they’re seeing on the screen. Be it responding to things characters are saying in the flick, yelling at the screen, throwing things at the movie and at each other, or using props to act scenes out, audience participation movies draw in the viewers and make them apart of the experience. They’re ever so much fun!

In theory. The reality can be much more…disconcerting…and saggy.

To watch the movie, my co-host Fred and I went to E Street Cinema, a theater in DC known for showing movies that aren’t completely mainstream. You wanna see the latest Jason Statham shoot-em-up? Take your ass to Regal Megaplex. You want to spend three-and-a-half hours watching the latest art house film about some little girl in Tibet with no arms who writes beautiful poetry while you chomp on a $10 artisanal panini, you go to E Street. Get it?

As soon as we were seated, the first thing we noticed was that half of the audience was just chillin in their underwear. “Oh, it’s gonna be that kind of party,” I said to Fred. “Let’s see where this night takes us!

Once everybody was settled in their seats, (including the drunk birthday girl) the group who hosted this monthly event decided to play some games with us to get us loosened up for the movie. They wanted the audience ready to participate. A half-hour of cringe-worthy games followed. They were so awkward that I have sealed them off in the forbidden room in my Memory Palace and couldn’t tell you what the hell we all did even if I could. Moving on!

And so the movie commenced. Now, I have to be straightforward here. I really like TRHPS. I got into it at a young age. I find most of the songs pretty catchy. I even got the soundtrack for Christmas one year. I’ve seen the movie enough to know most of the audience cues, like saying “slut” whenever somebody says the name Janet, or putting a newspaper over my head during a rainy scene. But to make sure we wouldn’t be caught too off foot, Fred and I had done a little research. It’s crazy how many sites there are telling you all the stuff you’re supposed to do as an audience member for that movie.

And then it happened.

At one point, near the end of the movie, Dr. Frank-N-Furter (don’t ask) chases the protagonists around his mansion while they’re in their underwear. Suddenly, half the audience jumped up, stripped down to their underwear (if thy hadn’t done so already) and ran out of the theater and into the lobby, where they cavorted like maniacs for a few minutes before running back into the theater.

Fred and I were speechless. I’ve seen some crazy things in my life, a cat walking on its hind legs, people doing parkour, a pizza that foretold the future, a Snallyghaster, even a Ginger with a soul. But I’ve never seen something all get out stupid as what I had just witnessed.

After the movie, Fred and I conducted a few interviews, including one with a guy who seemed to know all of the audience cues and would create his own, (not at all annoying, super hilarious, you could tell because he kept laughing at everything he said.) It turns out he was the boyfriend of one of the ladies who hosted the monthly viewing, meaning he had to go every time. He had gone from never seeing that movie in his life, to seeing it at least once a month for well over a year. I shot him to put him out of his misery Old Yeller-style and then we left to go drink the memories of what had just occurred out of our brains.

10/10, would recommend.

*For example, we still haven’t settled on a name for the damn thing.

**Look it up. That’s today’s history lesson for ya.

Monday, October 07, 2019

It Takes Two 2 Make A Thing Go Right

There are a few great pairings in the history of the world; peanut butter & jelly, Count Chocula & milk, Run & DMC, a cold beer & a hot day, Bill Murray & Harold Ramis, Romeo & Juliet, pork chops & apple sauce, etc. You get the idea. But truly there is one pairing that stands above them all and puts the rest to shame.

Buddy Cop Movies.

As an art form, buddy cop movies are close to perfection. Forget Hamlet, or King Lear. Forget the Cat in the Hat. Buddy cop flicks got ‘em all beat. We can all remember where we were the first time Riggs and Murtaugh complained about how they were “too old for this shit.” The constant repetition of the name Mike Lowery is forever etched into our brains.

Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?

From your Eddie Murphys and Nick Noltes, your Tangos and Cashes, to your more obscure team ups, like Jay Leno and Mr. Miyagi, (yeah, called Collision Course, and since Leno was in it, it had to be about cars,) or Billy Crystal and Gregory Hines in Running Scared, buddy cop duos run the gamut of possible team-ups.

And why stop there? Animals can be buddies too. For every Turner, there must be an equal and opposite Hooch. Every time Chuck Norris wants to beat up some terrorists, he takes with him a tiny dog named Betty into the fray, and who can blame him? Hell, Jim Belushi and his K-9 have at least 3 movies together under their belt and collar respectively.

Dogs not doing it for you? How about having a cartoon for a buddy? Perhaps a rabbit with a smokin’ hawt wife and who has been framed for wacky murder? No? Not up your alley? What about an obscene, uncouth puppet with a penchant for skeet, skeet, skeeting all over the place? Maybe a clumsy dinosaur from the future who wears clothes and is named Theodore Rex? If that’s not your thang, we can always team you up with you mom, Estelle Getty. She loves to shoot! If you act now, I can set you up with an alien with a weird raisin head and a love for copious amounts of milk. Or my person favorite, the zombie buddy cops in the underground classis Dead Heat. Such a tasty treat!

But hold up fellas, Let’s not try to steal all the buddy cop movies here. Let’s be some classy gents. The Heat, starring Sandra B and Melissa M wasn’t too bad.* According to Wikipedia, Miss Congeniality counts as a buddy cop movie, I don’t know if I believe that, but if true, and  you throw in Demolition Man and Speed into the mix and Sandra Bullock has got the female buddy cop game on lock!

And on top of that, they don’t even have to be cops. They can just be two people forced together by circumstances, who have a mission to complete. Either to clear their own names or to stop an evil villain, or save a bunch of grubby orphans and their filthy orphanage. The possibilities are endless.

What is it about buddy cop movies that endear themselves to us so much? Why are they so timeless? I’m no film school nerdlinger or anything, but I got a theory or two. First of all, people like seeing friends. True not all buddy teams start as friends, and that leads me to the second theory: buddy movies are often about people from opposite sides of the tracks, with different philosophies and views on life, who have to overcome their differences and learn to work together for the betterment of both parties. Each buddy cop movie is a microcosm of those famous words from the right honorable Rodney King: “Can’t we all just get along?” It is in that spirit that a fast-talking cop from the hood can end up being best friends with a Chinese kung fu cop who’s clearly 20 years older than he is, at least.

Also, we like these movies because while the pair is working for the greater good, they can’t be shackled by the lesser rules and regulations that hamstring most officers of the law. They work outside the law to get things done. They’re loose cannons! They’re off the rails! You can have my badge and gun captain, that won’t stop us from bringing down that Amish porn ring!

In the end, buddy cop movies are a little pocket of optimism in this sea of despair in which we live. They show that people can work together despite their differences and get results, and along the way do at least two sick ass car jumps, shoot a dozen people and probably high-five or some shit like that at the end.

So please, take the time this week to get nice and cozy, snuggle up with the one you love, (or at least tolerate) and watch your favorite buddy cop movie. It does a buddy good.

*It wasn’t too good either. Paul Feig sucks at this stuff!