Alex: “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to a special edition of Jeopardy. We call it ‘Jersey Jeopardy.’ I’d like to introduce you to our three contestants for tonight’s game. First, we have from Bayonne, New Jersey, Angelo Esposito. Good evening, Angelo.”

Angelo: “Yo.”

Alex: “Next we have Angela Soriello, from Newark. Nice to meet you Angela.”

Angela: “Heyyy, Alex.”

Alex: “And finally, from Colts Neck, New Jersey, we have Lars Johansson. Welcome, Lars. I must say, we don’t run across too many people in New Jersey named Lars. Are you a New Jersey native?”

Lars: “Actually, Alex, I’ve lived in New Jersey for almost two years now. I’m originally from North Dakota, but I love the Garden State.”

Alex: “Very interesting. Let’s get underway, shall we? Good luck to all of you. Lars, you pick first.

Lars: “I’d like Jerseytalk for $100, Alex.”

Alex: “For one-hundred dollars, the answer is, ‘It is a tree in Jersey’”

BUZZ

Lars: “The question is, ‘What is a pine?’”

Alex: “I’m sorry, Lars. That is not correct. Angela, you buzzed in second. The answer is, ‘It is a tree in Jersey.’”

Angela: “What is da numba dat comes afta two?”

Alex: “That’s correct. Angela, you get to pick.”

Angela: “I’ll take Jerseytalk for $200, Alex.”

Alex: “For two-hundred dollars, the answer is, ‘Haya dooin’.’”

BUZZ

Angelo: “The question is “Haya dooin’?’”

Alex: “That is absolutely right. Angelo, you’re up.”

Angelo: “OK, I’ll take Jerseytalk for $300, Alex.”

Alex: “For three-hundred dollars, the answer is, ‘Italian tubular pastry shells filled with sweetened cheese, sprinkled with nuts or chocolate and covered with confectionary sugar.”

BUZZ

Lars: “The question is, ‘What are cannoli?’”

Alex: “I’m sorry, Lars. That’s Italian. Remember the category is Jerseytalk.”

BUZZ

Alex: “Angela, to you.”

Angela: “What are gah-NOOLS?”

Alex: “That is correct. Lars, you gave the proper Italian word and pronunciation, and the category is Jerseytalk. Sorry, Lars. Angela, it’s back to you.”

Angela: “I’ll take ‘What You Call Dat Guy’ for $100, Alex.”

Alex: “OK, for one hundred dollars, the answer is, ‘The person who cuts you off on the highway.’”

BUZZ

Lars: “The question is, ‘What is a reckless driver?”

Alex: “Sorry, Lars. That is not correct.”

BUZZ

Angelo: “What’s an asshole?”

Alex: “That’s correct. Angelo, you get to pick.”

Angelo: “I’ll take ‘What You Call Dat Guy’ for $200, Alex.”

Alex: “For two-hundred dollars, the answer is, ‘The guy who doesn’t know the difference between rigatoni and penne pasta.’”

BUZZ

Lars: “The question is, ‘What is ill-informed?’”

Alex: “That’s not the correct response. Sorry again, Lars.”

BUZZ

Alex: “Angela?”

Angela: “What’s an asshole?”

Alex: “That’s correct. Your pick, Angela.”

Angela: “”I’ll stick with ‘What You Call Dat Guy’ – for $300, Alex.”

Alex: “For three-hundred dollars, the answer is, “The guy who wears Birkenstocks to work.”

BUZZ

Lars: “The question is, ‘What is an environmentalist?’”

Alex: “You’re having a bit of rough time, Lars. Sorry, that is not the correct response.

BUZZ

Alex: “Angelo, it’s up to you.”

Angelo: “What’s an asshole?”

Lars: “Wait a minute! This is baloney. I’ve never seen the ‘correct response’ be the same thing three times in a row!”

Alex: “Eddie, stop the tape! Lars, we will edit that last bit out for broadcast. Please try to refrain from making such remarks. OK, Eddie. Roll tape.”

Alex: “Angelo, you get to pick.”

Angelo: “I’ll take ‘What You Call Dat Guy’ for $400, Alex.”

Alex: “OK for four-hundred dollars, the answer is ‘The most dangerous person on New Jersey’s highways.’”

BUZZ

Lars: “I know I have it right this time. The question is, ‘What’s an asshole?’”

Alex: “Sorry Lars. That’s not correct.”

BUZZ

Angelo: “What’s a … friggin’ old guy?”

Alex: “No, Angelo. That’s not what we’re looking for.”

BUZZ

Alex: “Angela?”

Angela: “What’s an asshole from Ohio?”

Alex: “That’s right, Angela. It looks like we’re out of time. Angela is the big winner tonight, with Angelo coming in second. Lars, you finished with zero on the board. Sorry about that.”

Lars: “This is ridiculous, and Angelo, and Angela, you people are morons.”

Angelo: “Yo, asshole. You lookin’ for a problem?”

Alex: “Eddie, cut the tape.”

As the Georgia Bloggers were getting shitfaced on sipping Velociman’s Artillery Punch in Helen, Georgia (a slice of Bavaria in the Peach State), two carloads of the Usual Suspects headed off on Friday for Cape May, the beautiful Victorian town on the southern tip of the Garden State. We packed light in order to leave room for the Usual Suspects’ signature Traveling Bar. The weather could not possibly have been better. Here some highlights:

Kickoff: As is our custom, we began the drinkathon festivities at the Ugly Mug, one of my favorite saloons. Instead of ordering the customary Ugly Mug fare (bacon cheeseburgers or Philly cheesesteak sandwiches), some of us decided to go for something slightly more nutritionally responsible, so we ordered chicken Caesar wraps. Obviously, that decision must have been the product of a brain fart, as the wraps were lousy. (Note to self and other Usual Suspects: Stick to greasy stuff at the Ugly Mug. They do that well.)

The Stardust Shrink and his Ocean view Digs**: We had all been invited to party on Friday and Saturday at the beautiful summer digs of the Stardust Shrink. As in the past, Stardust proved to be a host extraordinaire, with a boundless supply of good humor and great stories. We assembled for the continuation of the drinkathon cocktails and snacks on the deck overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, which was constantly cooled by an ocean breeze. Quite simply, it doesn’t get much better than that.

The Veritable Feast: On Saturday, the group was joined by the Stardust Sister and her husband, Bill the Griller, and the Stardust Mom (see below). As the gang slugged down Margaritas as if they were lemonade sampled Margaritas, the Stardust Sister and Bill the Griller got to business preparing a mondo meal, which supplemented the lobsters (which had been alive a few hours earlier) that the Stardust Shrink killed steamed and chilled. Bill the Griller cooked up a pile of baby back ribs and a bunch of chicken breasts that were beyond excellent, while the Stardust Sister took care of the baked beans, veggies and assorted other great things to eat. The food was wonderful.

Some Fun Stuff: If you’ve come to think that the only thing the Usual Suspects do is eat and drink, shame on you. We do lots of things while we eat and drink. Here are a few examples:

Prestidigitation
This year the Stardust Shrink (who is also a real, honest-to-goodness magician – he goes to the conventions and stuff) rendered us speechless with some close-up magic. He repeated the “Card in the Little Box” trick that he had done for us last December. Damned if I can figure out how he does it.

He also unveiled a new one, which involved what appeared to be a lighted orb, slightly larger than a marble, which he seemingly produced from nowhere. What followed was a lightening-fast display that was performed so as to make it appear that the orb was sailing at high speed back and forth between his hands, in one of his ears and out the other, in his nose and out his mouth, and even into the mouth of one of the Usual Suspects, causing her to do a panic spit, obviously believing at some level that he really shot this bullet-like flaming orb into her mouth. (Clearly, we are the perfect patsies for a good magician.)

Some Jokes
The rules were that we were all to be prepared to tell at least one joke following the Saturday Feast. By this time, everyone was pretty well oiled, so you can imagine the hilarity that ensued as each person, in turn, had the “stage.” A “prize” (a chicken shooter, or some such thing, as I recall) was given to the person telling the best joke. The Quietly Sinister Linda took home the prize for a joke that was so salty it would have made a Chief Boatswain’s Mate blush.

Some Tunes
Yes, we did a few tunes. However, what made this time special (at least for me) was that it marked the debut of my new “Road Axe”. I was most pleased with its performance. I think that, in the future, I can confidently leave the vintage Gibson at home, safe and sound.

Da Bonus: Perhaps the biggest treat of the weekend was that Doris, the Stardust Mom, was in attendance. This marked the first time that Mrs. Parkway and I got to meet the Stardust Mom, about whom we had previously heard wonderful things. The Stardust Mom is into her eighth decade on the planet, but she has a gleam in her eye that would rival that of a twenty-something. It takes only about ten seconds after meeting her to realize that: (a) you instantly like her, and (b) you’ve just met someone very special. Not one to sit around watching Oprah, the Stardust Mom still mows three acres of grass on her power mower and tends to the gardens everyday on her “spread” in Pennsylvania.

Staying right in the middle of the action, she told a joke (a spicy one, I might add) and howled with the rest of us at everyone else’s jokes. The clincher for me was when she described how she decided to try parasailing this year. Yep, parasailing! She said, “I’d never done it, and it looked like it would be fun.”

We were quite taken with this gracious lady.

It was a helluva weekend.

**They are not the digs pictured at the top of the post. The featured picture is typical of the Victorian homes in the town of Cape May.

I have returned from Cape May, but I am having some site problems, including being spammed and not being able to get MT Blacklist to zap them.

Later.

I believe that all civilized people should have an “everyday bourbon” handy to smooth out the rough edges created by a hard day’s toil. It shouldn’t be hidden away in the liquor cabinet, but rather it should occupy a place in the kitchen for easy access. I have found that Jim Beam fits the bill, but I often try other brands.

My most recent “experiment” was this one, which I think does the job quite nicely, and as an Honorary Georgia Blogger, I think that its name is gott-damned inspiring.

I was making my regular visit over at Cadillac Tight, and I noticed that he has me listed on his Blogroll in the “Georgia Blogs” category as an Honorary Georgia Blogger.

I’ve won an award or two in my life, but being named an Honorary Georgia Blogger is a distinct honor and privilege, particularly seeing as how I am a 100% born and bred Garden Stater.

I was admitted to this exclusive group approximately one year ago in Helen, Georgia, and I re-united with my fellow Georgia Bloggers in April on Jekyll Island. I have spoken with some of them on the phone on more than a few occasions. One of them even hooked me up with a most excellent guitar. I’ve supped with this guy in Jersey, partied with this guy in New York City and prowled the Jersey Shore with this guy.

How did I gain admittance into this distinguished group of writers and ass-kicking partiers? Hell, to them, I talk funny. I don’t drive a pick-up, and I don’t particularly care for grits. Surely it’s not my writing, and lots of people can play a guitar – no big deal there. I have great farookin’ hair, but I don’t think that did it for me either.

Heaven help me, I do believe that it was my affinity for the crystal-clear “homemade Georgia wine” that did it. I fear that some genetic accident, which probably first occured a couple generations ago in Ireland, resulted in the Dixie Elixir going down like well water, albeit with a knockout punch that would match Mike Tyson’s.

Many of my fellow Georgia Bloggers will be convening again this weekend in Helen, Georgia, but because of a prior commitment, I will be unable to attend. Instead, I will be on a road trip with some of the Usual Suspects to Cape May, New Jersey (the Cape Escape), a lovely place, but, alas, a place where crystal-clear “homemade Georgia wine” is nowhere to be found.

I will, however, be with my Georgia Blogger Brothers and Sisters in spirit.

Y’all have a great time.

Sometimes we have to make tough choices.

Shamefullylessly lifted from Curmudgeonly and Skeptical.

Yesterday, as I went out for a morning walk, I could not help but notice that the neighborhood was full of blackbirds. They were on everyone’s lawn as well as raising hell in the trees. I assumed they were taking a feeding and rest stop on their way south.

One of my neighbors, a Haitian lady who apparently is new to the Northeast, saw me walking and asked, “What is with all these blackbirds? Are we in their migratory path?”

I answered that I assumed that to be the case.

However, I secretly thought it might be fun to say, “Oh no, this has absolutely nothing to do with migration. All these blackbirds are a sign of some extremely bad juju,” which I suspect would have seriously screwed up the woman’s day.

Sometimes I am just a regular gott-damned prince.

In the past, I have tried, with the written word, to instruct non-Garden Staters in the proper use of “Jerseyspeak.” Despite my best efforts at phonetically depicting the Music of Jerseyspeak, I have often wished that you could actually hear the words I was writing.

Thanks to the Internet, it turns out that you can hear real Jerseyspeak. More importantly, you can hear words and/or phrases of your choosing from an impressive menu. The speaker is none other than the character of Paulie Walnuts of The Sopranos. “Paulie’s” command of Jerseyspeak is outstanding, even though his bottom lip tends to sometimes get in the way of his speech.

Check out this site. Click on the word or phrase of choice, and Paulie Walnuts utters it in pure Jerseyspeak. My favorites are those in the last column (Insults). But be sure not to miss the proper pronunciation of the universal Jersey greeting, “Haya doo’n?” (Middle column).

Yo! Get ovah dere — Now!! Don’t make me tell you again.

N.B. Be careful. Some of the phrases may not be safe for work.

Via TigerHawk

I had my day all planned.

After my walk, I had planned to take a leisurely shower and lollygag around a bit alternating between reading (books and blogs) and writing a blog I had thought a bit about during my morning strut. I then planned on moseying out to pick up the supplies necessary to open the Post Bar in a couple weeks – all at a measured pace. After that, I had visions of Mr. Recliner, a bit of reading and maybe even an hour or so of channel surfing. It was to be a mellow day.

Then Ken, my friend and bodyguard, called.

“I got tickets to a hockey game to see the Devils tonight. You wanna go?”

I recalled that he and I had gone to a Devils game a while back, and I enjoyed the spectacle of it all, even if I don’t know much about hockey and most definitely do not qualify as a “fan.”

After about ten seconds of thought, I replied, “Sure, I’ll go. Thanks.”

From that moment on, it was a scramble to get everything that needed doing done, which included a trip to the Mondo Liquor Store, Costco and, Home Depot. For me, Costco and Home Depot are somewhere around the seventh and eighth rings in Dante’s Inferno. (Note that I did not include the Mondo Liquor Store, which is one of my favorite places.) The errands also involved a considerable amount of loading, unloading and lugging. I’m whipped.

I now have a couple hours to decompress before heading off to the game and its attendant insanity. The people who go to Devils games are seriously intense.

I think I’ll put my feet up and read something printed on paper, and I’ll be sure to let you know how the Devils made out.

Update: It was the first of a few pre-season games (Devils vs. NY Islanders). The arena was less than half full (or half empty, whatever), but the die-hards wearing their Devils jerseys, were there in force. Devils shirts were shot into the stands with giant slingshots operated by three people.Beer is still $6.25 a pop, and the place is glitzier than ever. We left after the second period when the score was tied at 1-1. The Devils ended up winning 3-2 following a shoot-out (apparently one of the new rules).

What lawyer doesn’t desire to be a judge for a day? Well, I got to be a judge today, but not the kind who wears robes.

Instead, I served as one of the judges for the Annual Truck Driving Competition held by the A. Duie Pyle Trucking Company. I have done this for several years now, and last year I had the opportunity to serve as the announcer for the event. However, with the return of the regular announcer, I again resumed my “judicial” role.

I was the “Left Turn” judge, which involved walking behind each truck as the driver attempted to make a left turn around a barrel and getting the left rear tire (or tires in the case of trailer) as close to the barrel as possible without hitting it. The Left Turn was but one of the many parts of the course that had to be carefully navigated by both professional and amateur truck drivers (the “amateurs” work for the company but do not normally drive trucks).

These guys can do amazing things with those monster diesels. Indeed, two of the company drivers who competed last year went on to eventually compete in the National Truck Driving Championship, which was recently held in Tampa. One came in second in his class, and the other placed sixth.

As has been the case in prior years, this family-oriented event was a huge success with plenty of great food cooked on site, which, of course, included sausage, peppers and onions on Italian rolls – a Jersey staple. It is both amazing and gratifying to see some fifty-seven truck drivers come out on their day off to do what they do for a living – just for the camaraderie and the joy of competition.

I’m pretty tired and more than a little sunburned, but, as Martha Stewart would say, “It’s a good thing.”