Rich’s Blog de Sexy

So, if you know me, you know I’m not one for high class, complicated things. I like to keep things simple, and the xmas party I went to last night just solidified my stance against high class dinners. When we got seated, it was as if I was at the helm of some futuristic utencil mobile used in space to collect random meals throughout the universe. Laid out in front of me, was 8 forks, 6 spoons with one perpendicular to the rest. 8 plates, 7 knives, a spork, and a gardening ho. I assumed that according to the utencil layout, we were in for a 600 course meal. I was wrong, there was only 4. So, here’s how I figured out my utencil use. Start off with the soup. In this case a delicious squash soup with apple cider in it. So I used the one offset spoon that was above the plates, then I noticed that there were 5 more spoons. So I used all 5 at once, as not to leave a utencil unused. It’s gotta be a sign of disrespect somewhere. Let’s continue. Next up was the tree leaf, goat cheese and blueberry salad. I was kind of curious why they gave us gravy at first, and thought “What am I gonna do, I have no more spoons!?” Then I watched the people who know what they’re doing, pour it on their salad. “DRESSING!!!” that’s what that was! So, I poured a bit on my salad, but it just made the already complicated dinner more complicated. It’s hard enough to get tree leaves on my fork withouth them being soaked in dressing. After I was about half done with it, I gave up. No salad’s worth that much effort. Utencil use, 3 forks, 1 knife (used for runaway blueberry wrangling). Ahh, time for the entree. The waitstaff brings out more gravy! I was thinking at this point, “I didn’t know rich people at so much gravy.” The next thing to hit the table was the entree. A delicious plate consisting of a giant piece of chicken stuffed with stuffing, with a rice thing that had and retained the same shape as cranberry sauce, just shaken out of the can. Also, there was esparagus, and an orange on it all. Now, I’m not one to say what should and should not go with a dinner. But why oranges? I think it just adds an annoying unavoidable flavor distraction. So I ate it. I poured the grave, which after a debate with my beautiful “date” about whether they just called it “Supreme sauce” or “cream sauce”. I was right, it was “supreme sauce”. Now, I don’t know who names these sauces, but where I come from we call that “chicken gravy”. Friggin rich people making their stuff so much better sounding. I went home and made some “supreme” popcorn, and drank some “supreme” water. They need to rename their products more accurately. So, I poured some of the chicken gravy (let’s not sugar coat it) onto the chicken. But apparently, there was another sauce that went over it.

WHAT?!!?!!

Two sauces on one piece of chicken? Blasphemy!!! But I did it anyway. When in Rome right? So I pour the second sauce, which was called an “apple curry” sauce. To be honest, I probably should have poured more on, because it all ended up tasting like chicken and oranges. So, during my “entree expedition” I didn’t drop one piece of food on myself. And my incredibly sexy “date” was quite impressed, not so much at the reception and my incident with the shrimp, but that’s what I get for trying to eat seafood off of a stick. Regardless, dinner went quite well, I used a total of 15 forks, 3 knives and the spork. Time for dessert. A delicious molten chocolate cake. Despite my fear based on the “molten” portion of the name, I was excited to try this. And knew that this was my chance to use my remaining 8 utensils. Desert hit the table, nothing out of the ordinary, a nice little piece of cake, sunken in a bit because of the ever-dangerous “molten chocolate”. A little bit of whipped cream, a strawberry and the whole thing drizzled in strawberry…um…drizzle. I ate about half of this, and as the lady came over to take my plate, I realized I had two more utencils. So I took one bite with one fork, and one bite with one spoon. Mission accomplished. People around me were so confused, some with tears in their eyes, knowing the disrespect that they had just shown to the waitstaff. As we were leaving, the waitstaff stopped me and thanked me for using all of my utencils. I told them that they should stop using oranges on things, and that the “Supreme sauce” needs to be renamed the “Chicken gravy”. They took that into consideration, but I don’t think they’ll change it. It’s probably a profit thing.

About 2 weeks ago, Eddie Money and I went sailing.  Eddie brought the boat, I brought some sheets, which I found out weren’t necessary because the boat already had sails.  To make some sort of contribution to this venture, I decided to trade the sheets to a local alcohol vendor for a keg, but knew it was going to take some hoaxing.  So I stuffed the sheets in my crotch.  When I got to the counter, I asked for a keg of Molson and the gentleman was nice enough to go get it.  When he came back and told me the price, I asked him if he knew what prison was like.  He said no, so I went behind the counter and reached for his hips and asked him if he’d like to find out.  This quickly turned into a foot race, and as most people know, I’m super fast, so I chased him to the back of the store until he hid behind the Goldshlager display quivering.  That was my chance, so, I took out the sheets, grabbed the keg, and made my way to Eddie Money’s sailboat.

When I showed up, Eddie said “Where’s the booze?!”  Then I showed him the keg, and he asked how much he owed me.  I told him 2 sheets and a pillowcase, he laughed wildly, like he does a lot, and kept preparing the boat for sailing.  Meanwhile, the women that Eddie Money brought along, kept slipping when they tried getting into the boat, and kept falling into the water.  The women would look up at me for some help, but I just ignored them and kept drinking my beer.  Finally, one of the women asked Eddie Money for some help and Eddie replied with “Well, if I could walllk on water.  And if I could find someway to prove.  If I could walk on water, would you believe in me?” she said “Yes!  I believe!!!”  Eddie laughed and said “Too bad hussy, I’m Eddie Money!!!  If you can’t swim, youz bound to drizzound.”  Then he poured the rest of his beer on her as he dropped trou and continued to go to the bathroom over the side of the boat, right next to the girl.

“You ready to get movin fella?” Eddie asked as I laughed at the girl swimming next to the pee.  “Of course!” I answered, and before I knew it we were moving along the Atlantic ocean in the middle of November and it was AWESOME!  How did we stay warm, I bet you’re asking yourself.  Well, Eddie Money purchased a satellite from NASA in early 1986.  He keeps in contact with them, and the satellite controled a “long distance heat transmitter” that he uses to control the climate for 60 feet around him, and that’s why Eddie Money never sweats.  So we were warm, very warm, and drinking, until the coast guard showed up.

The Coast Guard coasted up within about 50 feet of us, and then we heard, over the loud speaker “This is the Coast Guard.  You are in an unauthorized zone.  Please remove your…..is that Eddie Money?!  HOLY CRAP!!  GUYS COME OVER HERE, IT’S EDDIE MONEY!!!”   Then the Coast Guard came over and boarded the sailboat, and requested that Eddie sing a song.  Eddie told them that he wasn’t getting paid to do it, so no.  The service men and women were severely dissappointed.  Then, in an instant Eddie Money grabs a microphone and begins to sing his hit classic “Take Me Home Tonight” and had Spector stashed under the main deck apparently, because she came out of nowhere and started singing the backup.  Which was booed initially, until the Coast Guard crewmen realized that she wasn’t going to stop.  Once the song was over, Eddie Money walked up to each of the members of the Coast guard and punched them in the face, then told them to “Get off Money’s boat!!!”  Sure enough they did.  Well, one of them stopped to ask Eddie for an autograph.  Eddie carved his name into his arm and told him to get off of his boat.  The Coast Guard left, and Eddie shackled Spector back up again, and we were back to drinking beer in the warm November sunshine in the middle of the Atlantic.

It was about that time, the Eddie Money sign was shot into the clouds. (yesss just like Batman)  He turned to me, put on sunglasses and said, “Let’s move.”  I looked at him, and held my glass of beer up, and he took off, across the ocean.  As we were booting along the water, I felt something move under the boat.  Just then, a sea creature jumped into the boat!!  Eddie turned around quickly, looked at the sea creature and said “WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON MY BOAT!!?!?!”  The sea creature roared a gargley roar, then looked at me.  I looked over at the sea creature, smiled and held my glass of beer up and saluted the creature.  Eddie got enraged and said “HEY!! Swamp thing, you looking for dinner, cuz I got a big ol’ sausage for ya!!!” then ripped off his shirt, and started kicking the crap out of the sea creature.  Before I knew it, we were eating sea creature fillet and drinking wine!  Eddie turned to me, and he says, he says to me, he says “Rich ol’ boy, today was a good day huh?”  I agreed, and kept eating the sea creature.  “We went sailing, sang a little, showed some hussies who’s boss, and I beat and cooked a sea creature.  So, how do you like sailing with me?”  I looked at him dead in the eyes and said “Eddie, I’m not gay.”  Eddie sulked over, tears filled his eyes as he looked up at me, he said, “I understand.  I’m just glad we’re friends.” and he put out his hand for me to shake.  I looked at Eddie Money and said “Eddie Money, we’ll always be friends, just friends.”  We shook hands, and then I left Eddie Money’s sailboat, went back to the liquor store, got back my sheets, and went home. 

When The Eagle was in his teens, (his exact age is unknown) he knew that coming across situations that would reward him with coffee and cigarettes wasn’t going to be easy.  He thought that maybe it’s time he get’s a job, just for his essentials.  So The Eagle made his rounds, going from store to store, looking for an easy job that paid well enough for his supplies, and gave him enough time to do his hero thing.  After about 5 hours straight, the Eagle noticed that he had crossed 8 town lines, and applied at over 50 jobs.  So, he thought it’d be a good time to take a break.  So, he took a seat on a park bench he came across, lit a cigarette, and fell asleep.  Still smoking the cigarette properly, and putting it out when it was done.  He dreamed of a shoreline, and a small suburban town where he had an unlimited supply of cigarettes and coffee.  Where the birds chirped, and when they all chirped The Eagles name and sang nothing but Ice Cube all day.  That’s when he woke up to the sound of sirens coming close.  He saw that there had been an accident, a major accident, and the ambulance and fire engines were stuck in traffic a distance away.  So The Eagle, being The Eagle, sprung into action, and ran to the wreckage.  When he got there, he heard a woman screaming, “MY BABY!!!!” so he tended to her first.  When The Eagle got to the car, the lady said “My baby, my baby’s in the tree up there.  I hope he’s still alive!!  Please, will you save my baby?!”  The Eagle didn’t say a word, but took out his swiss army knife and began to cut the tree down.  After about a minute, The Eagle had the tree ready to topple over, and tapped the tree, only to have it fall into the middle of the accident.  But the baby, the baby, fell right into The Eagles hands, undamaged.  The Eagle brought the baby back to the mother, who was now crying because the tree fell next to her car, knocking over her coffee.  The Eagle could relate, so he helped her out of the car, and held her as she cried.  He then realized he couldn’t dare ask for the coffee.  So when the mother turned to him and asked if there was anything she could do to repay him, he said “Just a pack of smokes would be fine.”  So, she bought The Eagle some cigarettes and with tears in her eyes, she handed it to him, thanking him over and over.  The Eagle stopped her and said “Please.  I wanted to.  I’m sorry about your loss.”  The mother reflected on the times she had with her coffee, shed a single tear, and said “thank you” again.  The Eagle turned around only to see pain and suffering everywhere, which, of course, he had to correct.  So, he went through each car, pulling out each bloody victim, and placing them on a group of mattresses that spilled out onto the road from a delivery truck.  When he was done, sweating, and his patented Eagle shawl covered in blood and oil, he took a seat on a piece of, what once was a motorcycle.  The group of the hurt and wounded come over to him, and begin to thank him over and over.  He smiled, and waited for the offering of cigarettes and coffee.  Then the unthinkable happened, they thanked him, and then walked away.  The Eagle, knowing that improperly saving people was his way to get cigarettes and coffee, knew that this was detrimental to his future as a passifist hero.  I mean, what else did he ask for, nothing.  He asked for NOTHING, and now these people think they can just dismiss the incredible good deed that has just been accomplished in their favor!!!!  He sat, enraged, but motionless and silent.  Then a little girl came over with a coffee and a carton of cigarettes.  “Mr. Eagle?”  He looked down, ready to strike, then realized it was a 6 yr old girl.  “Yes little one.”  “Mr. Eagle” she says to him, she says “Mr. Eagle, my mommy’s last wish was that you have these cigarettes and coffee for saving me and everyone else that made it.”  The Eagle just stared with a tear in his eye, “Thank you little one.”  Took the cigarettes, and coffee and began to walk away from another scene of absolute chaos, that he helped correct.   

White Christmas aka The Christmas Cocaine Song
Irving Berlin 1942 aka Rich Hutchings 2006

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where mounds of powder
and music was louder
To see, movie stars do blow

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
With thousands of Christmas card I write
Send me some money tonight
So my nose on Christmas will be white

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
With thousands of Christmas card I write
Send me some money tonight
So my nose on Christmases will be white

1) Speak when excited.
    -I studder so badly when I get the least bit excited about anything.  It could be a good idea, and I’d still get too excited about it, and start repeating the first 2 words of a sentence.  (whaddya, whaddya, whaddya, whaddya….) Yeah, all too familiar feeling of shame.  Euuughk.

2) Wear short shirts. 
    -Now, I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen a fat guys gut hanging out, but doing it on purpose, come ooonnnnn.

3) Go to church without a sound effects machine.
    -I’m sure we’ve all been to church at some point.  Whether it’s stumbling across it on channel 25 on Sunday morning, or dragging your sorry butt there, we’ve all been to church.  And when I’m in church, I’m thinking 2 things.  First, that they really need to get a happier pose for Jesus.   You don’t hang a picture of a family member on their death bed, or a nice picture of what’s left of their head after they blow it off, so why Jesus hanging from the cross?  I’d personally like to see a nice picture of him playing badmitten or dominos.  The second thing I think of is how much better it would be if there were good ol’ fashioned sound effects playing while the priest and his little friends move around the stage.  For instance, the priest goes and turns the page in the book……fart noise.    The priest puts the bread into the parishoners hand, the “kerplunk” sound, and my own personal favorite, playing Pantera’s song “Walk” everytime the organist starts to play.

4) Sing along with my ipod at work.
    -I noticed that I have some pretty derogatory songs!  People must get really confused when they walk past and I bust out “Spit yo game, talk yo shit, grab you gat, call yo clique.”  Then again, I’m sure the 50 year old women I work with love Biggie, I mean, who doesn’t?!

5) Imitate the dances I see on BET.
    -As much rhythm as I have, I don’t have enough to look cool doing the snap dance or that “wishing brain cancer of the head” dance I saw.  You know the one, “Catch me in the hallllllll, it’s goin down!  Catch me in the preschool, it’s goin down!!” etc etc.