Archive for January, 2010

Germs and Funkaditions …


Wow, we have a lot of territory to cover and very little time to cover it.

Be forewarned, though …

Parts of this blog ARE about YOU!!!

It appears that some of us are a little too retarded to safely share computers with their spousal units. Yes, one of our very own is guilty of impersonating a Buck’s World official.

The Accused: Eh — the Dutchess of TaTa’s — Mizzle (loving and devoted wife of the ever lovable Jay Bizzle)

The Accusation:

In Friday’s afternooon posting — the infamous, “welcome to the outskirts of interwebs drama” post — a comment in which endearing references to a certain male cetacean reproductive organ were made, and credited to Jay Bizzle.

At first, I — your moderately humble host — was almost taken a’back, but then I could not help but attribute said homoerotic references to Mister Bizzle’s warped sense of humor.

He attributes such to the voices … but we’ll have to come back to that subject another day.

All the same … later Saturday afternoon I happened upon Missiz Bizzle, who laughingly, yet discretely, asked if I enjoyed her reference to the above referenced cetacean phallus.

I blinked my eyes in confusion for a moment before it occurred to me …

Jay Bizzle is not coming out of the water closet quite yet!

Thank god we dodged that bullet.

. . .

I think it is important that we take a few moments to step back and review the decorum and certain other points of order that every citizen of the wonderful world of Buck should always be aware.

Before we begin, though, perhaps it would do us all well to be reminded of the consequences of our actions. We must needs be mindful that infractions against the laws of this cyber-land can not, and will not, be tolerated!

Make certain of this, though … I, your loving and benevolent leader, would never execute punishment on ANY of the goodly people of this wonderful world.


Those who cross the line must face …

The Council of Doom!

[insert cheesy, stereotypical music wherein a villain is first introduced onto the screen]

It’s really not appropriate to reveal the identities of every member of the Council of Doom at this time. There may be — gasp — outsiders amongst us!

However … there are a few seated lifetime judges on the council, and perhaps a brief introduction might bring a little more mindfulness to some of our citizens and, let us hope, possibly wipe those smirks off their faces!

Ladies and gentlemen, our senior council member needs no introduction …

Greetings, citizens! I’m Space Ghost!

Hey, stop it right there Space Ghost, I already said you needed no introduction.

Yeah, I know, but …


We know this, Space Ghost. Please sit back down and allow me to finish this stupid blog up before I have to head out for the day.

man . . .

Okay, while Space Ghost is the senior council member, he is not the judge nor is he the one who runs the show when court is in order.

The Chief Justice and Supreme Arbitrator is the one and only … but, for legal reasons, we have to refrain from using his name … the ineffable Judge K!


It’s kinda early in the morning for a judge to be having a pint of beer, isn’t it?

Harden the f*@# up, mate …

Anyhow …

[Space Ghost starts waving his hands wildly]

Yeah, Space Ghost, what’s up?

If I can’t introduce myself, would you at least allow me to introduce the rest of my staff?

Sure, Space Ghost, why not?

Thank you!

Ladies and gents, Moltar, for reasons I am legally obligated to not discuss, is not with us here this evening. However, I’d like to ...

. . .

With all the things we have on our plate this morning, we really don’t have time to fully get ourselves acquainted with the Council of Doom.

Suffice it to say, that is a courtroom you do NOT want to be in!

. . .

Let’s see, what else do we have in the in-box this morning?

Ah, yes …


Dude, what are you doing back here?

I have something for you …

Space Ghost, I’m serious … I really do not have time for this crap this morning!

I have a snow shark for you, sir!

DUDE! Put that thing back where you found it!


Because it’s not yours to take!

Really? Then whose is it?

We can’t talk about it …

Why not?

Because we can’t …

Well, um,um,um … is it SNOW COW?!?!?


. . .

Moving along …

Jay Bizzle pulled me aside from an otherwise less-than-stellar round of Golden Tee this weekend to announce that he has found a potential beer belly gold medalist …

Yeah, that dude has that TATTOO’d onto his belly!!!!

Love it!

. . .

Have you seen one of these before?

That’s a Snow Frog.

You may have heard of them … maybe not.

You’ve DEFINITELY heard them over the years, though … that much is for sure.

I’ll never forget the first time I’d had it pointed out to me!

This must’ve been 1978, maybe 1979 … we lived at Quantico and we were in the midst of getting SLAMMED by a massive snow storm!

The weatherman had only been calling for “a dusting” earlier that evening …

We got several FEET!

Anyhow … after an evening of Christmas caroling and imbibing on massive quantities of heated, spiced wine, we finally made our way back to our quarters on the other side of the base. My parents, my brother and I slowly worked our way from the driveway to the front door, already more than knee deep in snow! I was immediately behind my dad.

As he fumbled through his pocket for the house key, a distinct, rumbling noise broke the perfect, angelic silence that normally accompanies snow fall.

“Ah, dad … you FARTED!!!!!!!”

He turned his head over his shoulder towards me, shaking his head gently in the non-affirmative, and with a hint of a drawl, and maybe even a slight hint of a slur, he intimated, “Noooo, son … that was a fucking SNOW FROG!”

I … came … un GLUED!

Anyhow … this was supposed to be  a blog about other people, not me.

OH wait, I almost forget …

It’s all about Buck! B-)

. . .

Well, sports fans … I had a LOT of other stuff I wanted to talk about this morning, but I dare say I hear mama Buck stirring about upstairs.

That can only mean one thing:

It’s time for breakfast. That oughta be fun; we’ve not gone out for breakfast together in quite some time.

So, while I’m taking a shower and you’re contemplating … whatever it is that occupies the mind of some poor fool that would have the time, no less the inclination, to actually read through an entire episode of this projectile verbiage …

Take another few minutes to enjoy the following little add-on for your laptop that is CERTAIN to make you “The Man” with all the hot chicas at the office!

(or get ya written up on sexual harassment charges!)

. . .

Okay, I REALLY have to get going!

Until next time …


Onward …


I awoke this morning in a quiet and calm mood. Didn’t stay out too late … didn’t have too many beers. I gave my mind a few minutes to discover if there might be any remote quadrant of the body proper which was in a state of relative discomfort. None was to be found.

One of the corners of the auto-pilot wiring of my psyche – one that tends to be, unlike the rest of me, a morning person – speaks up, “Neato!”

My dog, Sparky, had been attempting to sleep at my feet last night. Given the amount of tossing and turning that one tends to experience when sleeping on a not-so-built-for-sleep sofa, she didn’t get much of it.

Jack Russell terriers, if you haven’t noticed, tend to be a bit on the high strung side.

And yeah, I said “sofa” …

Told ya, the bacon thing really isn’t going over very well here at la casa del Buck.

(pics here are almost always of the “click to enlarge” variety)

Anyhow … I let Sparky out to begin her elaborate morning routine of divining the perfect points of evacuation. And with this one, it’s every bit as formulaic as it can possibly get.

Much like the directions on the back of a shampoo bottle except in place of “wash” one places a single word that somehow embodies the intense, almost frenetic, manner in which she goes about intently scrutinizing randomly disjointed spots of grass in search of that Point of Perfection.

Nothing less will do, unless it’s a miserable, rainy day.

Otherwise, she invests a level of energy into this search for that point of perfection that one might expect from a knight in search of uncovering a matter of divine providence!

To wit, she deposits, whether by way of micturation or defecation matters not. And yes, the former, in every case, preceding the latter.

And herein we replace the word “rinse.”

Still with me here?

Yeah, it’s Search, Deposit, Repeat.

But anyhow … I’m getting side-tracked here …

The air was calm and the sky tinted with a colorful hint of a glow from a sunrise surely taking place on the other side of the dark, looming grayness. It clearly felt like snow was soon to come.

I quietly stretched my arms, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air. As I shook my head in bemusement at Sparky’s frenetic search for said Point of Perfection, a slight breeze picked up. I wrapped my arms around my shoulders and rocked quickly on my bare feet, attempting to only have smaller parts of the foot in contact with the deck — which hadn’t seen temperatures above freezing in days — at any one given moment.

As I turned my back to the wind I looked down and smiled as I watched the first hints of snow dancing past my feet. There is something so soothing and serene about the snow. It brings some strange sense of purity and innocence with it.

But, like much in life, appearances are often little more than a mirage.

The snow, you see, brings a certain ‘something’ out of the animal within us all. Maybe it’s because the snow covers everything, blurring all that we are otherwise accustomed to seeing, yet rarely even noticing, in our day to day lives, and in the sudden absence of that which is familiar there is a resulting sense of panic and potential peril. In the animal world this may happen because the food that birds regularly forage for is usually in plain sight.

Suddenly, everything has changed in an instant and nothing is as it just quite recently was.

How is a bird to know whether or not there may still be anything resembling food beneath this mysterious white veil???


That bird's about to pounce me, isn't it?

Yes … fear of the unknown and hunger can bring out something downright fiendish in virtually any animal.

And when that fear comes as a result of snow fall, that can only mean one thing …

Well, two … if you really think about it.

Or more …

But in the context of this story, at least at this point within whatever portion of said story is about to unfolded before you, it can only mean one thing!


And you remember what happened the last time we had a deep snow and the ensuing schools of snow sharks that came with it, right?

Yeah, we almost lost Mikey Rez!


And we don’t want that!


Man, I really need to arrange something where you guys can listen to what I’m listening to while I write this! Oh man, that would so thoroughly change things!

But anyhow …

Perhaps you know how drivers are here in the mid-Atlantic region of the U.S. (and it grows increasingly rude and random the further north one drives. Well, to a point) They can be biggest collection of untrained, ignorant, self-centered, feckless morons absolutely devoid of any level of what is known as situational awareness … and with cell phones shoved unhumanly deep inside their ear holes!!!! These people can hardly, if at all, accomplish a feat as simple as parallel parking; well, at least not without undue anxiety and freakishly jerkish miscues that would make Michael J. Fox conducting a symphony look absolutely normal.

But I digress … my point is, “Virginia” drivers really are a difficult breed. I attribute most of that to the transient nature of the D.C. area, but that’s another subject for another blog some other day.

Today we have far more pressing matters to contend with.

Who will save us from the snow shark?

A mere few weeks ago we were beyond safe as we were blessed by a visit from one of the rarest, most severely endangered species of mammal on this planet: the Arctic shaven snow pig!

And … there’s a little something your old uncle Buck here has been keeping from you.

Olga, Leesburg’s own patron swine, flew, non-stop, from the mountains outside of Leesburg all the way to Haiti … did I mention this was NON STOP??? … to volunteer after the tragic earthquake.

Yeah … it doesn’t take a very active imagination to come to grips with what direction that decision ultimately took …


Without our token Arctic shaven snow pig, where then can we turn for salvation from the certain return of the snow sharks?!?!?!

Of course, the answer is simple!

Snow Cow!


However …

Remember my reference to the local traffic earlier? Well, just the mere mention of precipitation brings out most Neanderthalically idiotic driving tendencies imaginable from these people.

Snow Cow, due to the uncertainty of this weekend’s weather, instead chose to not cut short his stay at some weird hedonistic resort somewhere in the Caribbean …


Come on … are you trying to tell me – with a straight face – that you’d rather deal with gridlock traffic and worse?!?!?!

In this hypothetical question, you’re trying to walk a mile on Snow Cow’s shoe’s, not the ladies’.

You did understand that, right?

Anyhow …

All of this to say that I dare say that I very well may not be getting around to finishing my official blog disclaimer today. I’ve yet to check in with work, no less shower, shave, or brush my teeth.

I did, however, accomplish the other earlier; quite obviously … do you think this much chattery and creativity is possible with all of that blockage?


All of this to say that you want to keep your eyes open for this man …



Well, D’UHHH … he’s our savior from the snow shark!

Oh, you mean why should we keep our eyes open for him?

Because we want to make sure he is able to approach a snow shark without being the distractions of being engaged in conversation. So, in an effort to make certain he remains undistracted we have to ensure that he basically goes unnoticed … and we do that by keeping an eye out for him and then pretending that we never actually saw him … but yet we can, with a clean conscience, comfort our fellow Spankians with the knowledge that He is in our midst … somewhere.

But make sure to remind anybody that you tell that you saw Him to remember to strictly adhere to the rule that they must keep their eyes open and remember to forget what they saw.

Because the first rule of Snow Cow is that you never talk about Snow Cow.

And we’re not … I’m just blogging … that’s different.

Speaking of which, I really should be going now.

Until next time, remember …

And now …

A Word From Our Sponsor(s) …

Today’s hearty servings of tossed brain droppings and assorted mental excrement would not have been possible without our good friend Mikey Rez and the goodlier people still at …

(click to enlarge!) ... ((please)) (and thanks again, Mikey Rez!!!)

… ain’t good for the gander!


Whoa! So, yesterday I post that goofy blog. I mean, I’d been looking for one of those moments when I could squeeze in a little something over-the-top and actually have an excuse to have gotten away with it. Let’s face it, some things are best just left alone.

But we can’t can have that …

All the same, I waltz into the pub anxious to play some Friday afternoon Golden Tee and I’m all like a pro football player with a few of my friends about what I was convinced was a marginal home run of a blog …

I didn’t want to risk using an image of an actual professional football player out of fear that the owning corporation might jump on the opportunity to sue me for using a copyrighted image of the “#FL” … I mean, Bob forbid we actually believe that anybody apart from that great and all-knowing body could have otherwise come up with something like the fleur de lis or the phrase “Who Dat?” ???

Seriously … what is this world coming to?

But anyhow … I am starting to believe that Jay (of the clan Bizzle) and the other goodly town folk who have suggested I find and/or create a warning sign of some sort might have a point.

I mean, don’t get me wrong … I tend to think there are just some things in this world that really should not require pointing out.

Seems yesterday’s mental equivalent of pinching the proverbial loaf didn’t go over perfectly well.

DISCLAIMER! The following blog and commentary is not about you! Now, yes … a couple of the things that I mention are about “NOPE!!! ” … and in two places I do take a playful stab at “NotaChance” … actually, make that three times.

But everybody else … this is NOT about you!!!!

Repeat after me:

. . .

. . .

. . .

Anyhow …

I did advertise it as, “not for the faint of heart” for the Facebook crowd … did I not?

Sports fans, work with me here for a moment …

This blog is all about the satire
(granted, poorly executed)

a feckless exercise in sarcasm …

quasi-wit and shamelessly self promoting banter …

(actually, I think feckless was probably enough all by itself)

. . .

But it is vital that we maintain our focus on the word “sarcasm” for the moment.

Ya know what? This whole thing of even mentioning why I feel the need to write a disclaimer is going to get inherently complicated.  Once again, this not about you …

it’s all about Buck!

(well, yeah, and there are more than a couple references to “NoWayOk?“)

You see, sarcasm and wit go hand in hand.

Of course, there are th0se who have opined that wit is nothing more than educated insolence. I believe that one started with Aristotle, but who knows, he may have clept that one too?

And I know I shouldn’t be patting myself on the shoulder so enthusiastically either. I’m not a master of wit nor sarcasm as much as I am a predatory opportunist.

Oh man, that’s really a bad choice of words.

I am not a predator!

I used to be a Predator,  with a capital ‘P’ … and I must say that for all of our faults as a paintball team, the Predators DID have some major league fun! I do look forward to some day hooking back up with J.C., Muzzi or any of those guys from back in the day!

In our own minds, we were pimps, we were ninjas … we were special Olympians … Yeah, baby … we were

The Predators!

(remember, you can click on these images to enlarge them)

But anyhow …

I’m an opportunist, plain and simple.  Just ask anybody that spends too much time around me: Jay Bizzle, Possum, Billy, even the She Beast can tell you: my only gift is in overstating the painfully obvious in the most intellectually obscure, almost intelligent sounding, multi-syllabic manner possible.

In fact, my own bride can be frequently heard uttering the words: “Thank you, Captain Obvious!

J’yup … that’s me!

And it’s high time we finally get back to our regularly scheduled disclaimer …

Where were we anyhow?

Ah, yes … sarcasm.

I actually had a point here … and it’s sort of convenient that we’re having this little pow-wow as I’ve been looking for an opportunity to blather on a little bit about this new “Sarc-Mark” nonsense.

Yeah, did you read about this? There is a firm here in states who, after centuries of men and women of wit confounding the comparatively simple-minded, have — in true “Property of the NFL” fashion — come up with a symbol and have obtained a registered trademark for it.

Yeah, ther’s now a “Sarc-Mark” (r) …

Are you believing this?

Sadly, such has been proposed numerous times over the years … anything from upside question marks and exclamation points and more. I find it disturbing that we even have to consider as much, but hey … that’s the world we live it, right?

I mean, do we really need someone to point out that something like the following is purely an exercise in sarcasm?

Now that I think about it, maybe in this case it does …

Or how about this …

Do we really have to couch something like that with a sarcasm disclaimer?

But I digress …

So, in closing, all I want to say is this …

None of this is about YOU …

Come on, sports fans …

Say it with me:

We’ll have to save the disclaimer thing for another time! B-)

What’s good for the goose …


Howdy, sports fans …

Before we dive into the weekend inanity, there’s something that’s been burning a few of my brain cells today  …

It’s time “we” had a little talk. Although, I should warn you up front that this conversation is NOT directed at every reader, it’s just directed at “you.”

Allow me to clarify what, or — more to the point — “who” I mean when I say “you” …

For a good number of years now I have enjoyed an extraordinary level of anonymity here on the internet.

And then, here recently, I started inviting others from the so-called real world.

No, not that patently RETARDED train-wreck of a television show … oh holy dear mother of Bob … that show has got to be one of the most worthless moments of mental excrement ever pushed forth from the script writers of Hollywood. I mean I’ve been inviting friends with whom I spend time with here in the real world. Quite frankly, I’d rather do this than watch some of this bull shit marketed to our children as entertainment:

yeah, go ahead and click to enlarge … us usual …

Back to our story, though …

At first I invited my sons … they’re all exceptional writers AND they share certain aspects of my sense of humor. It made sense to finally include them. Truth be known, it was my middle son hunting me down and finding my old MySpace page which ultimately caused me to re-think this complete and utter anonymity thing.

And then I extended the invitation to the goodly people at our local Irish pub of a watering hole:  Spanky’s Shenanigan’s.

And as people at the pub started talking about these bloggy things, the Spousal Unit eventually paid us a visit. Even though she rarely seems more than mildly amused, she drops in from time to time all the same.

In fact, I dare say it won’t be long before she hears about today’s post and makes it here.

‘ello, lovey!!

Anyhow …

As a rule, I definitely do not mind having you “real” people here being a part of this big ol, bad ol cartoon … in fact, it’s never once posed a single problem!

… until last night.

As some of you know, I openly welcome constructive criticism and, more often than naught, I’m even inclined to embrace such things. That might be a shock to some of you, but I dare say the only people surprised are most likely those who do not possess the capacity for such honest and direct interactions.

But anyhow …

Back to “constructive criticism.”

Can I tell you a little story before we continue?

Of course I can … it’s my blog! :o)

I once met someone who, rather bluntly, cut me off mid-sentence while I was talking about my own children. That person’s words were as cold as they were sharp: “You need to know that I don’t do constructive criticism.”

I’ve since learned that people really friggen’ MEAN IT when they’re bold enough to be that blunt. Do not make the mistake of thinking that they’re joking or otherwise just shrug it off.  You need to know that potentially anything you say can be twisted, distorted, and even wrongly be taken as a personal attack …

And it WILL come back to kick you in the ass …

Hard …

… Fast …

… and Continuously.

. . .

But anyhow …

While constructive criticism is all well and good, it needs to be understood that it is not something which extends to the level of questioning, no less attempting to control, the content I choose to place on this website.

Much like a bar or a pool hall, this is NOT a day care center. Not only am I sometimes likely to toss the occasional expletive to and fro, I’m also likely to post pics that won’t sit well with high-strung, easily offended, politically correct co-workers and/or bosses.

If you’re reading these blogs at work or with your parents looking over your shoulder, please know that I consider such a “personal problem.”

You may have already guessed where I’m going with this, haven’t you?

Yeah … I’m not a big fan of being told what I should, or more to the point: should NOT post on MY blog.

You may as well tell me something like:

Actually, that would be an awesome suggestion, but I digress …

It wasn’t so much this particular reader, whom I sincerely do consider a friend, that was the problem … it was her ability to accidentally incite supportive chatter from my lovely bride that ultimately chapped my backside!

In the whirlwind of conversation about which images were deemed offensive or inappropriate, said Spousal Unit works herself into what I wanted to assume was a playful frenzy.

All the same, when I am enjoying my Golden Tee machine, the last thing I want is mama lion scowling me into a corner …

“No more pictures of naked women with bacon on their boobs!”

Yeah …

Ladies, such things are guaranteed to not go well … especially when done when you husband in the presence of other men! You may as well hold up a little burlap sack and dangle it for everyone to see while you’re snickering, “Hey, honey … guess what? I got two dollars on eBay for your testicles! May as well say good-bye, I’m putting them in the mail tomorrow!”

. . .

Just so we’re clear …

I LOVE getting ideas and suggestions from you guys!


Send me all the freaking pics and jokes and ideas that your little brain can conjure!

However …

Do not ask me to avoid certain subject material …

And definitely … don’t ever, EVER tell me to NOT post something.

Do it again and it’ll get worse than this:

and if you think I’m kidding, here’s just a little glimmer of what’ll come next! (seriously: you really shouldn’t click on the next one)

HEY! I warned you!

Expanding your horizons …


That’s right, sports fans … it’s time once again to have your horizons expanded, despite the fact that you are probably unaware that your horizons were even in need of expansion. But that’s why you keep me around, isn’t it?

How else would you have learned about things like mental laxatives or banal lube?

* To give credit where credit is due, it was my old blogging friend Agent Neptune who turned me on to the inconvenient realities of cranial constipation and the whole concept of mental laxatives. His patent-pending Lax-a-Thot is genuinely inspired.

But anyhow …

Of Mice, of Men and of Pornographic Pachyderms …

I’ve been getting quite a bit of “Dude, why???” from the Spanky’s crew.

Seems the whole elephant butt thing was met with quite a few mixed emotions.

Some were disgusted. As you can plainly see, such was also the case with the snow man there to the left.

If you think it’s a bad thing to see, just imagine being on the receiving end of something like that …

and not knowing it’s coming!

Yeah, talk about “highly unwelcome!”

Although, there is at least one or two people from my favorite little pub who’d probably enjoy something like that.


Odder still is the the number of people who actually questioned if that was a real photo, or if it was something that someone manipulated with some sort of graphics software.

Well, I firmly believe that we are held accountable by God according to the gifts we’ve been given. As the smartest (and, dare I say: most humble) man in town, it is therefore my responsibility to enlighten those whose minds have not been endowed with the manifest wisdom mine own has.

Case in point: pachyderm love is infinitely more complex than Llama love. Llama’s pretty much just spit … that’s about it. Seriously, what the fixation is that some have with llama love absolutely escapes me.

Apart from having more wool, and wool of a better quality than most sheep …

But let’s try and stay focused for a change, shall we?

In the event that you are unaware of the image in question, allow me to save you the trouble of digging through other recent blog posts!

Yeah, if you’re so inclined, you can click to view the full sized image.

If nothing else, though, you can at least thank me for not assaulting your eye holes with the larger, more explicit version of that pic.

Am I wrong?

Anyhow …

For my doubting Thomas’ and Tomasina’s …

Yeah, much like that shocking ad campaign that asks, “Centipedes in my vagina? It’s more likely than you think!”

… if you’ve never seen it, you can click on the link above labeled, “Vowel Movements” … click and enjoy …

… go ahead, go check it out … I’ll wait for you!

* * *

What’d you think of the video?

That’n made me laugh out loud.

Anyhow … where were we?

Ah, yes … elephant and elephant strangeness!

I was relieved to discover that the fixation isn’t 100% trunk to butt action …

Okay, so maybe it’s really not all that much easier on the eyes …

But here’s the thing … and, believe it or not, I actually do have somewhat of a point here … it’s not just the elephants that are into these sorts of things.

Shockingly enough, mankind — after countless eons of observing this sort of lurid behavior — has decided it wants in on some of the action too!

Need proof?

Uh, yeah … that’s just nasty!

Nastier still is the fact that someone thought this whole experience would be good for a friggen children too!!!

I know … I”m sorry …

. . .

Did that help any?

Here, maybe this will help make it all better …

Click to enlarge (you earned it)

Ya know, it COULD be worse …

I wonder what sort of grade he got for THAT science project! Hahahahahaha!

Anyhow … I did promise to change the subject, did I not?

Moving along …

Did that clear your mental palate?

Daggonit …

Mama-Buck is ready to do all that crappy responsibility stuff. Grocery store, pay bills, blah blah blah.

I just want drink a few beers and enjoy the games!

In parting …

Alright, I better get going!

* * *

Go Saints!

Yeah, it’s amazing what a little make-up and a professional photographer can do, huh?

Kodak moments …


Something that goes way back for me is the wonderful — albeit typically unwanted — gift of photograph hijacking. I am proud to say that this tradition has been passed along to, and warmly embraced by, all three of my sons! I mean, who DOESN’T enjoy the occasional photograph hijack?

There are various forms of hijacking, each of which having their own pluses and minuses. My personal favorite is the lost or unattended camera. Oh, the fun one can have when a stranger’s camera is found unattended.

And I have to say, the magic really is best saved for times when it definitely is a perfect stranger’s camera! My sons share my fondness of such opportunities and are not like to let those moments go wasted. For whatever it’s worth, we always make sure that the camera is either placed right back where it was found or, when circumstances warrant, taken to the appropriate Lost & Found office. Of course, not without taking a few choice pictures for the camera’s owner to later discover and attempt to decipher!

Better still are the precious moments that families or couples attempt to capture something special and just being in the background at just the right moment! We’ve all had moments where we were at least tempted to make a funny face. My wife gets a bit fussy when I capitalize on those opportunities, and I’ve yet to get her see the light that such things, in their own strange way, bring lifetimes of smiles to perfect strangers.

I mean, show me something that holds as much magic as being able to bring a smile or chuckle to a perfect strangers face, without even being there!

Better still are the moments where the wholly unplanned and totally unexpected appears.

Here, then, is a sampling of some of my favorite “Kodak” moments of the latter sort!

(click on each image to enlarge)

How luck can you get catching a moment like THAT on film??? LOL

Has anyone heard from Omar the tent-maker?

Unbridled Enthusiasm!

Isn't that CUTE?!?!?!

Imagine that, a redhead!

Got Crabs?

Dirty Old Man

Scavenger (but brilliant!)

Another mood-lit night ...

"I now pronounce you ..."

Tommy can you see me?


Situational Awareness: NOT!

I dare say the little one knows what's going on in the background ... lol

Free throw, with benefits ... lol

Deer Hunter!

and since we’re on the subject of venison …

"WTF?" indeed, dude ... "WTF?" indeed ...

Well, sports fans, I have lots to do and precious little time to get it all done.


In response to yesterday’s post about Olympic beer belly judging, a few people asked me for an example of what a “perfect” beer belly looks like …

Remember, there are 3 criteria …

1. Distance

2. Girth

and, most importantly …

3. Presentation.

. . .

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls … beer drinkers of all ages … allow me to present to you, the current poster child of the perfect Olympiad beer belly:

Until next time …


Mental Laxatives and Banal Lube (revisited)


These words (“mental laxatives” and “banal lube”) are two terms which I believe perfectly fit the — to use the parlance of our time — “culture of corruption”, which dominates our political system; especially here in the U.S. To be perfectly blunt, society is in DIRE NEED of both a “mental laxative” as well as some “banal lube” ! On the one hand, the extreme left has filled the minds of an entire generation with lies of such magnitude that calling it “shit” is actually a much needed moment of comic relief. There’s constipation of epic proportions, to say the least.

On the other hand … should we decide to continue to do nothing about it, we may as well lovingly grasp the proverbial pickle barrel which we have already been bent over and hope for a liberal application of the latter.

The banality of our political system is such that we have been mentally incapacitated to the point of almost absolute incoherence … and in our dazed slumber we have been bent over said pickle barrel. If you are not going to vote these fiends out of office then all I can say is that we — collectively — deserve our own 55 gallon drum of “Banal Lube.”

And remember kiddies, when it comes to being violated in such a manner …

Too much lube is almost enough.

* * *

If you agree with the above stated opinions, you might enjoy my review of president Obama’s inauguration speech.

You might be surprised to discover how blatant Mr. Obama was in warning us of the fast changes that were in store for us all.

However …

For those of you who cringe at my political leanings, please feel free to enjoy the following  …

But before we begin … is it just me, or do the that latest TV ads of Michael Phelps pimping a “munchie joint” like Subway strike you as the least bit “curious.”  I mean, yeah … of COURSE America’s newest pot-head is going to enjoy a fresh, toasty submarine sammich from Subway.

But anyhow ….

For your communist sympathizing wussies who cannot handle my political Rightness — or for those of you so masochistic that you came back to examine more of my semi-random brain droppings — I hope you enjoy my little preview (slash: aka “/”) teaser of my soon-to-be-published title:

Olympic Beer Belly Judging for Idiots

One cannot engage in Olympiad feats of beer drinking without the ensuing — dare I say, “ubiquitous” — beer belly.

Believe me, this is not an optional outcome … I am the founder, director, President and acting coach of the U.S. Olympic Beer Drinking team.

I know these things from first hand experience, okay?!

. . . so anyhow . . .

We professional beer drinkers have finally secured our rightful spot in the limelight that is the summertime Olympics. As such, it is only fitting that we begin planning now for the unavoidable eventuality that will be: The Olympic Beer Belly.

Alright, you may be wondering where this came from.

Am I wrong?

My dad and I first stumbled upon this idea while watching thousands of men pour into R.F.K. stadium for Washingotn D.C.’s first Promise Keepers rally.

We quickly realized that many of these men were quite like us: avid beer drinkers who were not ashamed of their prized afterthought of a possession: the Beer Belly.

After Pop pointed out the impressiveness of the beer bellies before us, I leaned over and asked, “Some of these men are obvious candidates for our Olympic beer drinking team, no?”

With the knowing look of an elder sage, he nodded in agreement.

It was at that moment that we began to draft the initial judging criteria.

You see … a beer belly, to be properly appreciated, must be viewed by standards greater than size alone. We finally agreed upon the following 3 elements:

1. Distance

2. Girth


3. Presentation.

* * *

Criteria One: Distance

Distance is a defining attribute of the perfect beer belly.

The distance of a beer belly is the horizontal distance as measured from the apex of said beer belly (the outer ring of the navel) to the outside skin of the spinal disk directly horizontal to the plane of said navel.

As such, a contestant with an excessively arched back will, most likely, be disqualified from entry into the games. In short, the straighter the spine, the greater overall protrusional distance.

disclaimer: while the word ‘protrusional’  does not show up in any legitimate dictionary, it  should still be adopted by the  International Olympic Committee as no other word succinctly describes the unit of measurement in question.

It is also this measurement that truly separates the fatties from the pro’s!

These are NOT beer bellies!

Quite frankly, any slob can eat and drink  him (or her) self stupid to the point of developing a rolling mound of body fat that simply hangs off the waistline of its wearer. A professional beer drinker, however, is a talented athlete and shows his pride with brilliant displays of masculinity such as a firm, properly developed and hard-earned beer belly.

Another integral aspect of distance is the overall proportion to the torso of the drinking athlete. The man pictured above, although slightly on the outside of the preferred age limits of Olympic level beer drinkers, is a model of exceptional distance.

* * *

Criteria Two: Girth

While the proud and hefty ladies pictured above certainly encompass almost any definition of girth, it is vital to remember that we are talking in terms of a sporting professional.

Girth, as implied by the name, and in most simplistic terms, is the circumference of the beer belly proper.

As is the case with Distance, Girth must also be judged on the proportion of said girth as it relates to the overall physical demeanor of the athlete him (or her) self.

It is the combination of Distance and Girth that quantifies the physical stature of a professional beer belly, however …

were it only physical dimensions that separated the Pro’s from the proverbial wanna-be “Ho’s” of the universe, it would be only these two measurements that would be of importance.

As such, it is the third criteria that fully qualifies and defines a professional, beer athlete to his (or her) fullest potential.

* * *

Presentation FAIL (asleep on the job)

Criteria Three: Presentation

Without doubt, the most significant aspect of any Olympic beer belly contestant is the matter of presentation.

As mentioned above, any slob can engage in a multi year binge of consumption and result in a belly of gargantuan proportions. However, it takes a skilled and disciplined athlete to create the perfect package.

The most significant ingredient in defining an Olympic quality beer belly is presentation.

I realize that I should have given you an example of Presentation instead of the picture shown above / to the right.

However …

We have entered a very, very subjective world whereby computer models and “textbook examples” dare not tread.

For example …

While the above pictured man surely shows promise in the way of distance, there is a still a major problem …

While the same, above pictured, example of obvious professional beer drinking prowess truly exemplifies any rational definition of girth, there is still a major problem …

An intense, undeniable lack of presentation.

Presentation, my friends, is EVERYTHING!

Take, for example, the following display of spectaculous beer belliness!

Distance: 3 (MAYBE a 4) …

Girth: 4 … ‘ish.

Presentation: 10.0 (at least)

See what I mean? Presentation makes up for a WORLD of evils!

. . .

However …

It must be said that presentation can, especially in some cases, severely backfire!

AM I WRONG?!?!?!?!


. .

. . .

. .


I thought not.

So, take your mental laxative …

Slather up a big, messy, guilt-ridden goop of banal lube …

and …

. . . always remember . . .

(until next time)

. . .


Trojan Ponies! (?)


A cupla things … beyond the fact that Scott Brown did not even mention the GOP in his acceptance speech AND the fact that MA voters polled said they voted BECAUSE of Obama’s socialized health care “reform” … and only 5% support it!

First: yesterday’s blog was something known as “satire.” May not have been the best satirical piece ever, but it was satire all the same.

Next: I do not condone the use of marijuana. Not quite sure why it’s illegal … I mean, we have all these groups of people who truly ARE trying to control the way we act and think. If they’re so desperate for a docile, non-violent generation of people, why not legalize weed? Ever heard of a stoner (sans alcohol) beating his wife?

Last: (and yeah, I know  this makes this a few things in stead of “a couple”) the point was, the liberal blame game going on right now is every bit as ludicrous as blaming Obama for things that happened in the 70’s.


Since Obama and Pelosi  are certain to start  pushing hard to get their socialist Trojan Horse pushed through the gates, I think it only appropriate that we all need to learn …

How to Ride a Pony!

Click above to learn more!
(and laugh your ass off)



Last week I revealed to the world my change in stance regarding global warming, and I promise we’ll come back to that before this blog’s over.

But in the meantime, I think it needful for me to retract some of the bile and venom that I’ve directed towards our Commander in Chief. Watching him stump for Coakley is Massachusetts while the rest of the world was mindlessly fixated on the pain and suffering in Haiti has given me cause to pause.

I mean, let’s face it: the major media outlets have been pumping that footage into our sight holes 24/7, all weekend long!

Obama, however, chose to stand by his dear personal friend and political ally, Martha Coakley. Now that’s friendship for ya!

And why shouldn’t he? He is a brilliant campaigner! I mean, isn’t that what being a “community organizer” is all about? And to THINK that my right wing extremist, tea-baggin’ buddies were once cynical about the qualifications a community organizer had to be the POTUS!

They clearly failed to to take into account the fact that he was also a Senator!

I’m already off point, though.

The immediate point being: surely there is nothing about Obama stumping for Coakley that could possibly have a single thing to do with some Leftist — how dare some say? — “Marxist” agenda.

Am I wrong???

. . .

The bigger point being: as I look back at the past year it’s impossible to not notice some of the conservative watchdog groups who have been deriding the Obama administration for playing the “blame game.”

As we look at the world around us, it really needs to be done with the past in mind. To learn how something has come to be, you HAVE to understand from whence it came.

I mean, take a look at the economy … we are literally bleeding out red ink like we never have in the history of this nation!

Unemployment has soared to the highest levels they’ve been in most young voters lifetimes!

We are facing deficits that have simply been heretofore unknown and in amounts so massive that the common man cannot fully wrap his brain around their enormity!

Detroit — in fact, the entire U.S. automotive industry — is against the ropes, taking what seems their last gasp of breath.

Banks are falling by the wayside … big banks, little banks, even one of the largest investment banking firms on the planet went, as some might say, tits up.

For whatever it’s worth, I really don’t endorse the use of that term. It’s really quite sexist.


Think about the above financial ailments, though …

Lehman Brothers went under in September of 2008. Obama wasn’t even in office.

Well, tell me … what is one to think?

To dove-tail off a popular religious trend of recent years: W.W.O.S.

What Would Obama Say?

“We inherited this economy from the previous administration.”

Ahhhhhh … I see!

It’s G-Dub’s fault!

Yeahhhhh … come on, admit it … when you really look back at those 8 years, is it really all that hard to believe that The Dub didn’t have his moments of being Commander in Spleef?

That sure would explain a lot of things!

I mean, not that I’m making a big stink out of smoking the ol’ stink weed. I mean, the Chinese have been smoking weed for almost 5,000 years.

Of course, outside of fireworks, they’ve not really done a lot as a society …

Well, the O.C.D. thing definitely kicked into high gear … thus the Great Wall.

Or was that just paranoia?

Let’s try that again …

Hey, the Declaration of Independence was written on hemp paper!

Party on, James Madison!

But anyhow …

Since we’re on the subject of blame, and since marijuana is blamed for things such as lack of motivation, forgetfulness, etc. Let’s see IF there’s a chance that a stoned POTUS could possibly be caught “asleep behind the wheel.”

. . .

(ps: all the pics from here on out can be clicked on to view a larger version of the same image … for you “inquiring minds that want to know” …)

. . .

Barney Frank and his merry band of turd burglers engineered the whole sub-prime mortgage thing.

But under whose watchful eyes did they pull that off?



What about …

Wall Street ?

The collapse of Lehman Bro’s …

which, thusly, pushed AIG to the very ledge of failure …

Banks closing everywhere …

All of that happened under WHOSE WATCH?



Are you trackin’ with me here yet?

. . .

What about …

Energy ?

The price of crude oil sky-rocketed to an unprecedented high of $147 per barrel in July of 2008.

In less than 8 short years, crude oil prices went from a steady average of LESS THAN $20 per barrel …

To an eye-watering, SEVENTY FOLD increase in price that absolutely crippled the average American with unbearably high gasoline prices.

Who stood to benefit from all of this?

Arabs, of course … but they’re just filthy, camel loving, Jihad happy, goat bumpers. We have goat bumpers here at home that SOME people would be happy to help see they got taken care of?

Who might I be referring to?

Where does American oil wealth reside?


And who came from Texas?

(apart from Dick Cheney, the man obviously pulling the puppet’s strings)

Could it have been …


Yeahhhhh …

making sense, isn’t it?

How about … oh, I dunno …

Teh Interwebs!

Walk with me, talk with me … let’s give this one a little thought.

Prior to the Clinton administration, the proliferation of malicious Trojan horse software and Worms was, for all intents and purpose, unheard of.

Internet porn?

Parents pretty much only had nothing much to worry about back in those older days of lore. Most predators were busy using the internet to find newly opened schools to stalk because kids weren’t on the computer.

SRSLY … there was actually a day when computers were VERY un-cool and were only used by insecure little geeks who had no life.

Look at the world today. In just the past decade, internet porn has become a mainstay industry, internet child predation has reached epidemic proportions …

This all happened WHEN?

The past decade!

Under whose watchful eye?


Since we’re focusing on some of Al Gore’s more infamous inventions, let’s talk about …


To be really blunt about it, the weather was actually somewhat predictable and normal while under Clinton’s watch.

However …

Look back at just the past decade and tell me what’s been the REAL case?

Glacial melting …

* * *

Unprecedented numbers of …


(by inference we can deduce that Bush was responsible for Haiti last week too!)

Not to speak of the unprecented outbreaks of …


as let us not forget …

Volcanic Eruptions!

and the intense seismic activity associated with these ever-increasing number if earthquakes and volcanic eruptions continues right up to today, January 2010. Go do a little news search on the number of volcanos that have sparked up in just the past month.

but anyhow …

In the past decade we’ve also witnessed …

Insane Wind Storms Sweeping Europe …

and, as all of us also know, the true toll to the weather in the fight with Global Warming has been the ubiquitous …

Hurricanes …

All this in the past decade, and under whose watchful eye?

President’s Bush & Bush in New Orleans immediately after Katrina

Yeah, another stoner moment.

It all makes sense to me now.

(told ya I’d get back to global warming!)

. . .

Haitian Chaos (and other stuff)


Wow, what a night!

Went to bed way too early, woke up a little before 3am … and then a bunch of weird computer problems started popping up.

No, I was NOT visiting porn sites, thank you.

Anyhow, mama-Buck has been all congested and not sleeping worth a poo of late, and — get this — in the midst of the various computer problems, my PC decides it’s no longer on Eastern Standard Time. We, somewhere along the way, slipped into the whatever GMT-4 works out to as a time zone. I suspect some regions of Canadia, the eastern outskirts of the Caribbean, or perhaps somewhere in South America shares that time zone, but I know not what it is …

Nor am I going to take the time to find out because I’m a little upset.

I was attend the farewell ceremonies for our friend “Marge” who was, VERY tragically, taken from our midst late last week. When I finally looked up at the wall clock I realized that it was not, according to my PC, 8:38am, but instead a full one hour later than that and the services begin in less than 20 minutes …

and my bride lie upstairs in bed, asleep.


My apologies to our friends and, even more so, to Marge’s family for not being there this morning. Our heart certainly does go out to you … most ESPECIALLY to her family and their truly closest of friends.

* * *

I’ve often heard, for pretty much as far back as I can remember, “The show must go on.”

Even when the heart is heavy, we must do what we must to carry on. One thing I’ve learned, both through personal experience and observation of others, is that isolation is a formidable enemy!

Just like the animals, we need to carry on; helping each other survive.

On the note of carrying on, however, there is no ignoring what is going on down in Haiti. A friend of mine, Scott, implored of me last night to do a blog on behalf of the devastating 7.0 earthquake that literally rocked that island nation to rubble.

He wouldn’t take “No!” for an answer and could not accept my self-assessment that I don’t do those sorts of things well. This morning, for example, as I scanned through the photographs I’ve already collected, there were moments where some of the most sarcastic and caustic things popped into my mind. Many of you know my intense distrust and, in some ways, downright hatred I carry towards the United Nations. Upon seeing an aerial image of the U.N.’s Haiti headquarters building completely destroyed, what came to mind was not somethig appropriate for the momet.

Other images were of the looting and violence that is unfolding with every passing day. More things popped to mind that I will refrain from translating to the written word.

But then, as I looked more closely at the men and women giving “humanitarian aid” … and as I looked at the facese of the people, it hit me … they’re people, just like you and me.

* * *

The fact remains that most of us feel very detached and distant from this tragedy …

… but look a little closer …

… closer …

… even closer …

… closer still …

… closer …

. . .

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. . .

. . .

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… click below to find out how you can help …

The News as Viewed Askew (January 15th, 2010)


So, there I was … it was a beautiful Saturday morning in a tranquil, nondescript corner of the broccoli forest. I arose from my slumber, ever so slowly rose myself to a seated position on the edge of the couch and stared at my dog, Sparky, for a few minutes. She was enthusiastically engaged licking herself.

But let’s not even go there …

So, I made my way up the stairs and attempted to rid myself of the taste of sewage and cigarettes from my mouth (the guys and I made a bit of a late night of it last night). At some point not terribly long thereafter I finally made my way to the office.

As is my habit, I took a little time this morning to peruse the news and what did my eyes spy?

That’s right, sports fans!

Grab your reality polarizing glasses …

… it’s time once again …

. . .

… to see the world through Buck’s eyes!

J’yup, that’s right, kiddies … it’s the long awaited return of the news as viewed askew, the on-again, off-again, randomly-something-monthly, episodic indulgences of news visitations that remind us:

This episode is dedicated to the mental midgets (the “ra’tards”, if you will) of this planet who’ve decided to “go there” with absolutely mind-numbingly inane displays of body modification.

The early 2010 candidate for “Most Retarded Tattoo EVER!” is this guy…


Yeah, so get this …

As it turns out, that video hit the internet barely a week ago and it has already garnered over a half million views. According to The Telegraph UK,

“The clip on video file sharing site YouTube has attracted almost 500,000 views since it was posted earlier this week, but some viewers have questioned whether the film is a hoax.”

My first reaction was, “A HOAX?!?!? Dude, look at the rest of bizarre ink that boy’s sporting all over his neck!”

Of course, as is often the case with me … {gasp} … I spoke too quickly.

As it turns out, the question of it being a hoax had more to do with the source of the video than whether or not someone was monumentally stupid enough to have a pair of Ray-Ban styled eyeglass frames eternally etched into their face.

You see, the video was posted by “Never Hide Films”, a production company formed by renowned sunglass manufacturer, Ray-Ban. The question is whether this was a “paid for” stunt for the sake of publicity.

Who cares? I don’t.

I mean, seriously, what’s worse … getting paid to get ink, or getting paid to do THIS:


That ain’t riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!

On a closing note, I do want to say that I think some tattoos are friggin’ AWESOME. I mean, take this one for example:

Seriously, is that not downright:

So anyhow … did you hear that the manager of Blackrock World Gold mutual fund, Graham Birch, quit his job and decided to become a dairy farmer?

This has absolutely nothing to do with the last video … or one can only hope … but anyhow …

I only mention that because it’s important to not get caught up in the bullshit and hype of the media, etc. The very fact that you see morons like Gordon “the Jurassic spy” Liddy taking money yo make a commercial telling you that NOW is the time to buy gold is EXACTLY the reason you want to do just the opposite. If something, especially as it relates to investing, makes it onto the cover of magazines or TV commercials, I can assure you that it’s too late.

Just ask the people who jumped in to crude oil futures in mid 2008 when oil reached an all-time high of $147 per barrel. Remember all the “experts” and talking heads on the T.V. who were calling for $300/bbl oil? Yeah, I read tons of the same nonsense in a lot of the financial publications too. Remember, just a mere year ago crude got down to $30.

And I have NO idea where I was going with this, so just let’s move on, shall we?

I really was in the mood to do a news thang today, but it’s just not working out very well. So, since this was an otherwise boring week …

… unless you’re a geek like me and enjoyed some of the spectacular photography of the annular eclipse on Thursday, that made it almost a newsworthy week. Well, that, and the unimaginable number of volcanic eruptions and earth quakes. You gotta admit, that’s a touch disturbing.

Oh, that and the cocaine they found in the space shuttle hangar.  WTF is that all about? Re we running some sort of interplanetary drug ring now or what?

Obama … sheesh.

The other day I was enjoying a few tasty beverages and a few rounds of Golden Tee during happy hour at Spanky’s with Mikey, Jim and Possum.

Mikey (the good man who directed us to the ninja parade video the other day) was – yet AGAIN – re-telling a particular episode from our days when we played pool almost 7 days a week. He was blathering on about a bunch of nonsense about all sorts of goofy things, to include — but not limited to — half of the first floor of a hotel being flooded.

During his retelling of said episode he made the comment, “he had enough to drink to kill TWO people!”

I raised my finger to interrupt at that point and interjected with, “Well … I don’t know about two humans, but a sickly horse? … Yeah, probably.”

You must be wondering where I’m going with this.

Believe it or not, that little anecdotal story was my way of getting you primed to be surprised.

Buck Believes in Global Warming!

That’s right. Believe it or not, despite all of Al Gore’s hot air and unfathomably stupid remarks and claims, I have finally fallen to the dark side and have embraced the TRUTH about Global Warming.

As many of you know, I have been an ardent believer in the cause of the environment. Granted, I’ve been more than a little critical of Greenpeace and certain other radical kooks out there, but I’ve always been four square against this whole idea of global warming.

So, what, you may ask, has brought about such a drastic change?

Well, to a lesser extent, there was the matter of the thermal, color-enhanced satellite photo I shared with you the other day. The more I reflected back on that image the more it occurred to me that all of the extreme weather most of us in the northern hemisphere in recent weeks is probably due to the extreme rise in surface temperatures within the arctic circle.

But something even more intense than that has been the fact that I am now a first hand witness to the horrifically fast-paced melting of the greater Loudoun glacier.

Even before the invention of mankind and beer … one might even be safe in saying since the dawn of time … the world has been graced with the beauty and grandeur that is …

The Greater Loudoun Glacier

(artist’s impression of the Greater Loudoun glacier, circa July 2009)

In just the past month alone I have been witness to a series of bizarre events that have lead me to believe that Al Gore is, right …

Man-bear-pig is truly amongst us!

Granted, I personally have not yet witnessed a real man-bear-pig, but give me a few moments to elaborate before judging me.

For starters, look at what one week has reduced the Greater Loudoun county glacier to:

SRSLY! That’s not good … heck, that’s downright bad!

Here, check out this close-up:

See that “salt line” that’s more than a foot away from what’s left of our once great and monumental glacier? That happened just between Monday and Wednesday of this past week!

But that’s not all …

A few mere weeks ago, my friend, Mike Rez, was attacked and was almost brutally eaten alive by a snow shark!

Now, I know you might think I’m being a little melodramatic when I say something like, “and almost brutally eaten alive” but it’s the TRUTH!

“Dumufuggijn TROOF” I tell ya!

Just as the snow shark (Larry’s his name, in case you were wondering) was broaching the snow-line, I caught a glint of movement in my peripheral vision.

It all happened faster than I could focus, but from the east side of the Shack there was a flesh-toned blur dashing across the snow. As I shifted my vision to towards the right, the flesh -toned blur then leapt into the air, barreling towards Larry (he’s the snow shark, just in case you missed that earlier)

Right before my very eyes was a surprise visitation by one of the most elusive and rarely witnessed animals known to man … mere seconds before he rammed headlong into the snout of the snow shark …

It was …


Snow Pig to the rescuuuuuuue!

Now, before you get all hysterical and start demanding action from the Dictator in Chief, Barack Obama, and his merry band of communists that we know as the United Nations, let me clue you in on a little secret …

These last few pages have had absolutely nothing to do with the news. I’m just making this shit up to kill a little time.

Come on, you actually believe in global warming, the internet and man-bear-pig?

Sheesh … what, are you a moron?!?

I mean, seriously, the world is weird enough already

Oh holy crap … I’m missing the Cardinals / Saints game! I gotta go.

Have a great weekend, boys and girls.

Bundle up, stay warm, don’t work up too rough of a hangover on this beautiful holiday weekend and until next time …


“Larry” the SnowShark is a creation and the intellectual property of SharkBait Media Productions. Thanks to Mike Rezabek for leasing him to us!

Friends, Romans, Countrymen …


Lend me your ear …

* * *

Some of you expressed a certain amount of shock — for some downright disgust — at the “soo’prize butseks” elephant photo I’d posted when last we met.

Some were brazen enough to ask, “Why?”

Such a silly question when it comes to a blog by Buck … if you’ve not learned that yet, you’re obviously new to this thing I do.

And lemme tell ya, I’ve been doing this nonsense a lonnnnnnnnnnnnnng time!

But anyhow …

Man, I am having a REALLY hard time finding “teh LULZ” today. I’m staving off an epic case of the blues, if you don’t mind me putting what might be too fine a point on it. My friends and I here in 3-D land lost a dear and cherished soul yesterday. Those of you who actually know me face-to-face can go over and read the short, albeit sincere, few words that I could muster about her this morning on my Facebook page.

But I promised myself that I would do exactly what Marge would probably expect of me … bring smiles, perchance an opportunity to laugh, to others.

So, let’s get on with it, shall we?

* * *

As it turns out, it looks like animal abuse charges are possibly being filed against me here soon.

No, I didn’t personally do anything that directly resulted in injury – physical, emotional or otherwise – to any animal, be it domesticated or any of the near countless beasts of the field otherwise.

Nossir, I’ve been given a heads up that the less than goodly people at PETA are pursuing charges for inciting unlawful unions of man and beast as a result of the aforementioned, and dare I say disturbingly humorous, pachyderm on pachyderm rectal invasion.

Ah yes, the previously mentioned “soo’prize butseks” image from our last blog.

No sooner did I publish that darned thing than some twisted, demented soul gets some flash of inspiration and dashes out to the local petting zoo …

I know what you’re thinking: Why aren’t charges being filed against THAT freak?!?!?!

Am I wrong?

Well, as it turns out, with all the bizarre twists and turns that have been unfolding in the way of “hate crimes” laws, the man pictured above — who for legal reasons shall remain unnamed — claims that he suffers some bizarre psychological disorder (and trust me, his problem is so twisted and bizarre that the disorder is impossibly hard to pronounce, no less spell) and is attempting to shift blame onto yours truly.

How messed up is THAT?

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of this little rock in the cosmos that we call Earth …

Before I continue, have you ever seen any of the viral internet videos from a while back where people recorded their friends reactions to the grotesque “2 girls 1 cup” video that was, quite thankfully, finally removed from internet?

Oh man, some of those were downright precious.

Anyhow, let’s not dwell here too long … that might get me in even more trouble.

However, as many of the long-time readers and lurkers of many of my web incarnations of recent decades already knows, my mantra is, “The point is to have a point!”

And my point here being: yesterday it was reported that an animal researcher (whose name and location shall also be withheld for legal reasons)  showed my last blog to one of his subjects and recorded his reaction:

Oh, the things I would do were I blessed with such a tongue!

But anyhow …

I know this is short, but I am stranded without a car have a bit of a walk ahead of me. Oh … joy!

Until next time …


Climate Change Update


Needless to say, it’s still REALLY COLD outside … well, in most places anyhow.

How cold is it?

Ask this dude:

That’s mighty cold!

Now … you know how snow cow would deal with that problem, right?

But anyhow …

Actually, before we get back to talking about the weather, and since that image is just a slam dunk segue into the whole subject of “slim pickins” … allow me to share with you an image I came across this morning that seared my eyeballs …

* * *

Now maybe you won’t be so hard on Snow Cow!

But we should really get back to this whole climate change thing …

Seems it’s too late for us to appease Snow Cow … the northern hemisphere is already buried in ice and the other side of the planet, especially for our lovely brothers and sisters in Australia, are being seared by record high temperatures. I mean, seriously, check this out: this is a satellite image of the U.K. taken a few days ago. The entire freaking place is covered in snow!

It’s not just snot that’s freezing these days, sports fans. Hell, some parts of the northern hemisphere have seen entire waterfalls freeze for the first time …

* * *

Hell, you think THAT’S bad?

Check out this group of seals that were almost frozen in place when they woke up on morning this week!

I’m tellin’ ya, dude … it is COLD this winter!!!

And as a little side-note of a PSA:

Don’t let your children run on the ice with chopsticks in their hands or mouth!

Oh … SNAP!

You know that had to hurt!!!!!!

> > >

By and by … up to this point, these are ALL real pics from real shit that’s happening the world the past week or so.

I’m …

… come on kiddies, say it out loud with me …


So, how are some people dealing with these record low temperatures?

In one town in Russia, the locals put together a portable hot tub …

That actually looks like a bit of a fun!

A hell of a lot more fun that what these freaks of nature find entertaining …

What’s with all the blood on the ice block???

OH OH OH!!!! I have a theory!

Never mind … that just ain’t right.

* * *

So, where were we?

Oh, that’s right … taking a look around the globe and taking a look at what others are doing to make the best of this whole cold weather thang …

A couple of drunk fellas in Scotland decided to have some fun on a canal that had frozen over. Granted, the U.K. is getting a lot of snow, but I dare say it’s not quite been cold enough to freeze to the point of being drive worthy.

They, as you can see, learned that the hard way …

Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, the Japanese snow monkeys are (as they are famous for doing every winter) chilling in the one of the local hot springs …

Cheech Marin and Tommy Chong came to Washington D.C. this week to continue their efforts at legalizing marijuana ..

Now that I see those two pics in sequence, it makes me wonder if Cheech and Chong didn’t make a stop in Japan first to hook up the local snow monkey population.

Hey … stranger things HAVE happened!

Speaking of Scotland, the good people of Lake Menith held their FIRST curling competition in something like THIRTY years!

Sadly, like so many of the other obviously scotch drinking people of that fine country, they learned the hard way that it takes more than just a few days of cold temperatures to make a body of water travel worthy …

Sadly, the town quickly canceled the tournament citing safety reasons.

Ya think?!?!?!?

And others …

Well, seems that some just jumped outside and just had plenty of fun with no specific goal in mind …

Yeah … that’s niiiiiiiiiice!

Apart from the previous image, I’m otherwise with the anonymous dog on this whole cold and ice and snow thing …

There’s a reason the entire northern hemisphere or our planet is experiencing record low temperatures and I can promise you that the salad tossing liberal extremists that are our modern media aren’t going to let us in on the truth.

That’s a thermal image (via satellite, d’uh) taken in just the past few days. The artificial color coding shows the current ground temperatures compared to historic norms.

As you can plainly see, the Arctic circle is WELL above average … and I guess all that hot air is pushing what would otherwise be REALLY cold, arctic air (which is normally supposed to STAY inside of said circle — I mean, that’s why we put it there in the first place, dontcha know) and pushing it outwards and downwards onto us inhabitants of the northern hemisphere.

And we all know where all that hot air is coming from …

I mean, apart from Al Gore …

See what happens when you piss off Snow Cow?

Sadly, though, what is in place is in place … and now we must let nature run her course.

Believe it or not … that’s actually a good thing. It allows Snow Cow to take a break from his Reaper-like duties and it affords him the opportunity to secretly watch over our troops overseas …

(total stealth, just like a ninja)

Now that I have so many friends named Frank it just doesn’t seem right to say things like, “let me be frank with you” …

As you can tell, I’ve been giving this some thought and I’ve finally settled on an alternative.

Allow me to be a seductive albino gorilla and talk plainly to you about something …

come hither

Yes, I have another secret to share with you goodly people of Buck’s World!

As some of you know, I’ve been a rather industrious soul, even from my earliest years …

and as the years have moved along there has been numerous opportunities whereupon I would have a chance encounter that would, as they say, get the proverbial wheels turning …

It was (as you can tell by the hidden writing on the right side of the image above) just a couple of years ago when I happened upon yet another tawdry PETA protest.

And I gotta tell ya, as a guy, it’s hard to not stop and think for a moment when we stumble across any of these overtly sexual, semi-to-almost-full nude protests of theirs.

Of course, us heterosexual guys aren’t thinking about whatever retarded message it is that they’re trying to convey …

But anyhow …

That particular encounter was the closed-eye fodder for more than one wasted seed when, some time later, I had one of those exceptionally rare post release epiphanies!

If vegetarians are, in fact, tastier, why not open a restaurant?!?!?!

* * *

* * *

Actually, I AM crappin’ ya this time around … I don’t own a restaurant.

When last we met, we ended our quality time together reflecting on that which is Ninja.

It only seems fitting that today we end on a related note, since these last two blog posts are actually supposed to be interconnected.

Ninjas are not to be messed with.


Because they will kill you … and you won’t even see them coming.

Need proof?

Who’s the last person to pull this stunt off since the son of God walked the Earth (and water)?

Yeah, SRSLY … the dude is literally running on water.

* * *

Ninja’s even teach their monkeys how to fight!

* * *

and Ninjas are thoughtful enough to teach their monkeys to enjoy a cold, frosty beer after vanquishing their enemies!

Ninjas, simply put, are not to be messed with!

* * *

Here, take a brief moment to watch this video …

(thanks to MFree for the link!)

Well, sports fans … I guess it’s about time I grab my things and head on back to the domicile to face another joyful evening of packing boxes.

Don’t ask.

I hope to have another roasty, toasty, succulent vowel movement for you again some time soon.

But in the meantime, always remember …

Never forget …

Don’t smoke

Don’t chew

Don’t run with boys that do …

Love those that hate you

Bless those that persecute you

and most importantly, ladies and gentlemen …

have a good day!

* * *

Until next our paths cross …

* * *


Atmospheric Conditions …


In case you haven’t noticed, the weather has been anything but fun of late.

I mean , holy hell, I awoke this morning to a local news channel on the television and they were talking about freezing temperatures yet again in central and southern Florida.

Seriously, freezing there is pretty much one step from the proverbial snowflake’s chances of landing in hell.

Now … rather than find cause to snicker at Al Gore because his global warming invention is clearly having a bout of pubescent rebellion, let’s sit down, pour ourselves a pint, take a deep breath and then take a big ol’ bite of a reality sandwich, shall we?

Yeah, I went there … a reality sandwich.

Ever had to take a bite of one of those?

Do you even know what the main ingredient is in a reality sandwich?

Apart from the bread, of course. I mean, you are aware that bread is actually NOT a food group? Yeah, it’s a condiment. In fact, to many it is seen as nothing more than a decoration, but we’ll save the culinary poop slinging for another time.

I’m here to talk about WHY the weather is so particularly brutal of late.

Surely you’ve had to have noticed that this is, already, one of the coldest winters in recent memory. Just here in sulky northern Virginia we’ve had sub-freezing daytime highs and HOWLING winds for over a week now.

Overnight temperatures in Florida are dropping so low that the local iguana population are literally falling out of the trees!

Imagine a group of little girls walking to school and having THAT fall on one of their heads!

Hahahahahaha … oh my, that’d be a hoot.

But anyhow … yeah, with Igunadids being cold blooded animals, the extreme low temperatures slow their metabolism so much that they lose all coordination and simply drop out of the trees like over-ripened coconuts!

And it’s not just the U.S. that is experiencing this extreme weather. Oh no, it’s a planetary phenomenon!

Floods in Brazil …

* * *

Freakish storm clouds in Uraguay!

* * *

Quasi-apocolyptic droughts in China …

Seriously … WHAT THE DEUCE?!?!?!


* * *

So, what IS at the root of this insanely unexpected twist in atmospheric realities?

Well, I can tell ya what’s up …

Snow Cow is PISSED!

Yes, we gone and done it now, folks!

His ineffable name and his sacred image have been cast into a marketing ploy for a bunch of … [ugh], I’m not even gonna say it!!!!

Yeah, “ineffable” … his name’s really not snow cow … you know this, right? I mean, god is not God’s name either. It’s a euphemism … I have a problem with being reprimanded for “taking the lord’s name in vain” when I’ve said “god dammit!”

Go ahead, go look it up. Quite frankly, knowing specifically what the word means will help you get the smile you’re intended to get when I use phrases such as, “and let’s see if we cannot eff it after all!”

Ok, good, you’re back …

I’m not even going to give this ungrateful sub-human any recognition. I will simply state that Snow Cow is aware of what has happened and what you and I are witnessing today is the “ah hell” that is breaking loose as a result.

And now, a word from our sponsor …

I stumbled across an article this week that, shockingly, reported that men — on average — think about sex 13 times a day.

Yeah, 13 times a day – for a total of 4,745 times every year. Quite frankly, that seems a bit on the low side to me, but I’ve never really been one to pine on such details.

This particular study also went on to report that the average man actually reports having sex an average of twice a week, or 104 times a year.

Dogs must be able to read minds …

I mean, as soon as I paused to consider this unexpectedly impressive number … my dog, Sparky, shot me this crazy, raised eye-brow, “W T F” look that about made me cry from laughing so hard.

But were they really tears of laughter?

Wow, twice a week!


Sadly, I’ve been married more than once. Life’s strange that way sometimes, but thanks to the advent of relative morality and the wonders of a primarily hedonistic society, I am not alone in in this department and, therefore, feel almost as if I should feel at ease.

But anyhow … my point was that I have been on both sides of the marital divide in my adventures as rogue man-child and career prodigal. I’ve been counted amongst those who took the final step of purchasing the proverbial cow, and returned — a more experienced and jaded soul — back to the murky waters of the shamelessly unattached.

But then it occurred to me, one could take the pragmatic approach and average the number of conjugal encounters … but after enough time, twice a week still seems rather unrealistic. Granted, the Spousal Unit and I actually placed a quarter in a large jar every time we … uh … yeah … and on our first anniversary the quarter count was an impressive number. Very impressive, actually.

All the same, it occurred to me that the demographic might well be skewed towards the generation roughly half my four and one half decades.

Sparky, again reading my mind, cocked her head and shot me another one of those humorously confused looks.

So as to not awake the Spousal Unit, I whispered back, “Yeah, the younger one is, the less likely they are to score very often.”

Something foul was definitely afoot at the Circle K …

Of course, the participants in said survey very well may have been including the semi ineffable subject of the all too well known reality ofttimes referred to as being, “two partners shy of a threesome.”

The news article, towards its close, further went on to say, “Researchers also found one in three guys think a candlelit dinner is the best way of getting a woman in the mood, followed by a relaxing massage.”

Yeah, it was at this point that I knew for certain  … that twice a week number was definitely inclusive of handshakes with the little Governor!

* * *

But anyhow … what in the world were we talking about?!?!?!

Oh, yeah … Snow Cow. Sorry about that digression … I sometimes feel that I have this moral imperative from on high, some sense of responsibility to share with those I love the things I learn from the news and/or The Discovery Channel. That’s the reason I stopped to have that little word about the study showing that men think about sex almost 5,000 times a year.

Again, is it just me or does that number seem REALLY LOW???

What prompted that was another article that documented the published the results of a long term (over 16 years) study. The study showed that men who had sex at least twice a week cut their chance of heart disease IN HALF!

Did you catch that? Cut the chances of a heart attack in half!

Sex has long been regarded as good for physical and mental health. Until now there has been little scientific research into what benefits, if any, that frequent intercourse might have on major illnesses such as heart disease. Scientists at the New England Research Institute in Massachusetts, tracked the sexual activity of men aged between 40 and 70 who were taking part in a long-term project which began back in 1987.

So, there you have it. Men who have sex (with a partner, mind you) twice a week or more stand 45% less of a chance of suffering a heart attack than their less fortunate counterparts.

And what is the lesson to be gleaned from all of this?

Women are obviously out to kill us.

But I digress …

Wow, I’ve run out of time once again. Daggonit … I think it’s vital that I reveal the identity of Snow Cow. Our world is at risk and anarchy is right around the corner!


Those of you that have been around my blogs for almost any length of time surely have picked up on my loathing of Green Peace. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE our planet, and I am a big believer that we have a morally bound duty to be good stewards of this beautiful home we’ve been given.

But anyhow …

Green Peace … nothing but a bunch of idiots and hippies (both of the aged and neo-wanna-be types) who are being led and funded by a bunch of communist subvertists …

Stay on point, Buck … stay on point!

Those minions of satan were recently donated a near priceless tri-maran to help them hunt down Japanese “research vessels” …

Seriously, that is just nuts, is it not???

That donation was in late 2009 … mere weeks ago, actually.

So, the folks at Green Peace, now feeling invincible with their aquatic Batmobile, storm off onto the high seas in search of … dun,dun,DUUNNNNNN … fishing vessels.

Of course, leave it to a Green Peacer to not even stop to consider the fact that when you try to intimidate a Japanese fishing vessel, it’s probably a pretty safe bet that the captain of said vessel is gonna be … wait for it … Japanese!

And you know where Japanese men come from, right?

Yeah, Japan … and what is Japan famous for?

Yeah … Ninjas.

And those aren’t even specially trained, card-carrying, registered weapons of death Ninjas, those are just a group of freaking Japanese FIREFIGHTERS!

Dude, if it comes from Japan it may as well have a sticker on it that reads:
(you’ll want to imagine the Intel logo for this one)


* * *

So, anyhow, yeah … some mental midget from Green Peace decides he’s going to take on a Japanese fishing vessel (again, obviously manned by a ninja) in a game of high seas chicken.

as one of the Spousal Unit’s best friends would say:


* * *

Well, hell … now I HAVE run out of time.

Make no doubt about it. Snow Cow is pissed and I dare say he ain’t done with his reign of terror.

I promise to talk more about Snow Cow and what we can do to quiet his angry soul.

He’s actually a rather kind soul, but he’s a jealous snow cow and does not like his likeness being used for something so unthinkable and lowly.

Until then, my dear reader …


Is it beer thirty already???


Heya sports fans!

Sorry, not a real blog today, just a little pimp to another blog of mine and a short message for your loving host …

This one is NOT a rant. Check it out …

(go ahead, that text right up there above me is a funny color because it’s a link … you’re supposed to click on it!)

Also, I apologize for not having a fresh, tasty Friday afternoon blog awaiting you but I do promise to get something posted either overnight or some time in the morning. If it IS tonight, I’d expect it to be a little on the goofy side as I intend to spend the afternoon playing Golden Tee and the evening tossing back  a few frosty adult beverages whilst enjoying the musical mayhem that is The Karma Issue!

Until then …




Just a quick update or two …

#1: more material has been posted at my “Politico” blog. CLICK HERE to check it out.

#2: for those of you who, for whatever reason(s), have nothing to do with #1, HERE’S a little gem I stumbled across today. That dude (to me) is Fuuuuuu’NAY!

Sorry that that’s all I have for now … I promise some more nonsense and laughter is forthcoming.

Happy Effin New Year!

(and stuff)

New Year Reflections, Part I


Happy 2010 everybody!

As we look back at a year just past, sometimes it helps to occasionally stop and consider what we’d like to change during the coming year.

Not in the sense of resolutions … we discussed that in my last post.

It’s an occasion to offer ourselves the opportunity to learn. When we look back at outcomes and especially patterns, it’s vital to note the outcome and then decide if that is something we want to repeat … is that a path we want to continue to follow?

Insanity, they say, can be defined as attempting to solve a problem by repeating the same behavior/choices that created it.


What can I — your fearless leader and benevolent king of the land of Faux — learn from looking back at the past year?

For starters, make sure to make time for play. Burning the candle at both ends simply cannot end well.

Beyond that, it looks really retarded.

Let’s see, what else is there?


Pay closer attention to what I buy for my nieces and nephews!

In fact, to be a bit more to the point …

No more Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve … after spending the morning and early afternoon enjoying “breakfast” with our friends at the pub …

The whole butt-plug part of it never occurred to me.


* * *

Speaking of being more thoughtful …

This year I’d like to spend a bit more attention to which vehicle I’m driving.

Awkward much?

* * *

So, anyhow … since I’ve already let the cat proverbial out of the bag about my holiday shopping fail.

I never read the box … all I saw was a doll and … like ANY guy … I was in a rush. Seriously, Christmas shopping can really be quite the inconvenience when it conflicts with one’s drinking schedule.

* * *

I have one nephew who is totally into Superman. A pillow that doubles as a pillow. How cool is THAT?

I was, unfortunately, perfectly sober when it came time for the opening of the presents that morning.

It took me a while to understand why I was getting so many confused looks from the kids and, even more so, the awkward looks from the rest of the family.

* * *

There’s my one niece who, of all things, is a HUGE fan of the Incredible Hulk . . .

HEY … his pants were NOT rolled up like that when I bought it!!!

* * *

Fortunately for me, the bath house across town is open on Christmas day … and only on that day each year … the hot tubs are filled with beer.


. .

. . .

. . . . .

. . .

. .



Did you hear about the body that was recovered from Sydney harbor in Australia earlier in 2009?

According to the article that I read, investigators did initially rule out suicide and were considering this a possible homicide case.


Thank you, Cap’n Obvious!

* * *

Were you out and about amongst mixed company yesterday, you too may have come across numerous conversations involving various “good luck foods” to usher in the new year.

In many Asian cultures, noodles are eaten on new years day in order to bring long life. There’s a catch, tho … each noodle must remain unbroken until the entire noodle is in one’s mouth.

Austria has its pork dishes … the Italians have their lentils … the folks in the deep south of the U.S. have their black-eyed peas and greens.

Stranger still is the traditional ox penis salad enjoyed in certain remote regions throughout China  …

Yeah … ox penis …


* * *

Then there’s my favorite dish …


Has someone in your family jumped on the latest craze of soaking turkey in brine?

Man, does it make the meat OH SO MUCH more tender and succulent!

Anyhow …

A few friends of mine and I decided to get together and try this whole brine soaking thing a try …

All I can say is, “Mmm, mmm, good!

* * *


(Saint Feces? that’s a new one to me too)

I just noticed how much the time got away from me this morning. I’ve got stuff to do, places to go and …

Who am I kidding? This is my last weekend to … uh … after realizing what the “Fun Shapes” toy that I’d bought for my youngest niece was really all about, I almost feeling awkward using this phrase, but here it goes anyways … blow it out of my ass. Starting Monday, the world as I know it taking some drastic changes for the busier, to say the very least.

All that to say, I gotta go!


and be thankful you’re not a paralyzed child living in a third world coutry which will remain unnamed … every a solar eclipse they bury their paralyzed children all the way to the neck in MANURE!

How’s THAT for Hoping For A Cure?

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