What This Guy is Thankful For (2010 Edition)

Ah, Thanksgiving...the time of year where most stuff themselves with turkey and other random delicious crap. Oh yeah, and it's also the time of year where thanks are given.

I've always been a little confused about this part. Are those thanks supposed to be given in a public setting, i.e. the dinner itself? Or are they supposed to be a private matter, like counting your blessings or praying to the Baby Jesus? If option "A" is the correct choice, I've failed the Turkey God miserably. I have never given thanks in person to anyone, or to any THING on the day itself.

So to hedge my bets, I'm just going to blog the shit out of what I am thankful for this year. Hopefully, those closest to me (I'm looking at you, my immediate family, my ladyfriend, and my circle of friends who puts up with my drunken, rambling, inane ass on a daily-to-weekly basis) understand that I am eternally grateful for them being here in my life. Seeing as how they are the most important and they know it, I am going to spend the rest of the blog focusing on some of my lesser thankfuls for the year. And awaaaaaay we go...

What I am thankful for this year:

Coffee
Yep, pretty sure I couldn't get by without you. You are my raven-colored (and sometimes creamy mocha-colored) mistress, friend and mother. Thanks for being there every morning in all of your guises.

The MLB Network
As a tubby little boy growing up in Brooklyn Park, I often prayed for a channel that showed baseball highlights all the time, along with old games and the occasional re-airing of the Ken Burns documentary Baseball. When I got older and more jaded I thought that prayers often go unanswered. The MLB Network proves this wrong.

Half Price Books
More specifically, the clearance LP and CD sections at these stores. Where else could I have been opened up to many kinds of music that I thought I never would listen to? Five years ago, I never would have thought I would even listen to the likes of Fleetwood Mac or Cat Stevens. Now I realize that they are glorious mom-jean rock.

Surly Beer
I am thankful for Surly for murdering my love of Miller Light and other shitty lawnmower beers. Except for PBR. I totally fucks with PBR still.

My New found Love of Cooking
Well, I should say it's not so much "cooking" as it is "not eating takeout/fast food all the goddamn time". As one who embraces trash culture at every turn, I thought my life would consist of me solely eating Taco Bell and SuperAmerica hot dogs for eternity. In the last couple of months I have come to the realization that making a salad and a tortilla rollup leaves you feeling much less degraded than a Whopper or a Chalupa would.

Shitty 80s Pop Music
Shitty 80s pop music got me through the Summer of My Discontent. Special thanks to it's sexier cousin, Shitty 80s New Wave, for still being there for me in much happier times.

NBA Jam for the XBOX 360
Even though I haven't played this yet, I am sure it's going to kick ass. I mean, you can play as Bill Clinton, Len Bias, Larry Bird and (probably) the Phoenix Gorilla. What's not to like? Thank you for letting me revert into 12 year old Jake, sans the business mullet and the Notre Dame sweatshirt.

Katy Perry's Rack/Tunes
Strangely, I find both her bazooms and her music compelling at about the same level. I'm not sure what that says about me as a man, but I don't fucking care. I am just glad those sweater kittens are there, along with her sappy pop confections from the gods.

Well, there you have it. I guess you could say that at this point in 2K10 I am living a Teenage Dream, much like Miss Perry. But with a much less fantastic rack...

Chili-Wacked

I have mixed feelings on the Purple firing Brad Childress. On one hand, he was a totally overmatched coach who had no idea how to run an offense or modivate his players. For reals, he was like a 16 year old getting an Aston Martin as his first car instead of a Ford Tempo. He just looked confused about how to operate the damn thing and then ended up crashing it into a telephone pole.

On the other hand, Chilly provided so much material. He looked like one of two things most days. Depending on the day he looked like either a sex offender or the star of 90's sitcom Major Dad, Gearld McRaney. The sex offender days were when he wore a black Vikings sweatshirt like my dad wears to bum around the house, and the Major Dad days were when the Vikings were getting plowed like Jill Kelly. Plus, his play calling thing looked like a Denny's menu, which provided at least 10 "Run 86 red right and get me a Super Bird" jokes. Per game.

At this point I am so damn numb from the farce that this Purple season has become I really can't feel a thing. I think anyone could coach this team better than Chilly, but I really don't care right now. I sort of hope Fav-ray retires and they throw T-Jack to the wolves to see if he can cut the mustard as a starter. And hopefully if they do, they can run 78-Trips-Left Moons over My Hammy a few times.

Here is a song to get through the Purple Malasie:



Hear that? It's the happy sound of seeing your chick with another dude. Oh, who the fuck cares? Do you hear fucking how joyous this is? I mean, with whistling, hand claps, and a freaking live audience who needs that two timing ho? Big ups to Cat Stevens for writing this and the Tremeloes for playing it.

Purple Pride?

I watched most of the Purple game today (up until Fav-ray's dumbass fucking pick #2). Then, subconsciously, I played this song on my iPod. It pretty much sums up my feelings on this lost fucking season...



Yep, I went from crying like I just got dumped after the NFC Championship game last year to summing up my crushed hopes and dreams with a Chicago (3rd incarnation) #1 hit. Look Away indeed, guy who is not Peter Cetera or Terry Kath.

Drinkin' Alone

For the last week, I have been out of commission with a case of strep/tonsillitis. Due to this aliment, I missed stuff. This is extremely disappointing due to the fact that sickness caused me to a) miss one of my closest friends birthdays b) miss out on a karaoke night and c) caused my girlfriend to quarantine me. Above all this, sickness caused me to not drink.

So tonight, after feeling 95% of Jake-tastic, I decided to get loose with my old friend Windsor and his life partner Diet Coke (yes, I assume Diet Coke is gay). Here is a rundown

- Went on Amazon.com and bought one XBOX game (Mass Effect) and one New Wave compilation CD (The Rhino released ones, this one with "Wouldn't It Be Good" by Nik Kershaw). Grand total: $17.80.

-Watched the new South Park. Thought the Shake Weight coming on Stan's wife's face was pretty funny, and also enjoyed the take on food porn.

-Signed up for mint.com. Was shocked that I only spent $14 bucks on booze this month. Vowed to triple this output by December 1st.

-Followed the Wolves game on my phone because David Kahn is a vampire crossed with a meerkat who is killing my joy by not televising a goddamn Wolves game even though Kevin Love is a beast this season and Beasley dropped 30 AGAIN tonight! (Rant over).

-Enjoyed a Kennedy Assassination documentary on History International that claimed Kennedy was shot by Oswald alone. Yelled "bullshit" alone in my room at my stolen TV.

-Made a Facebook invite for my 28th birthday. Realized its a direct facsimile of my 27th birthday, except at a bar 8 blocks away. Came away satisfied nonetheless.

-Did a load of laundry. Probably mixed whites and coloreds.

-Bumped "Angelia" by Richard Marx. Twice. This confirmed perviously held sober beliefs that Richard Marx is extremely underrated.

-Received three bootleg Pearl Jam CDs from a courier (my landlady/future sister-in-law)which she received from Sir Rich Abraham at a chocolate party. Googled lyrics to songs I have never heard so I could put them on my flawless iPod.

The biggest realization out of all of this was that I get more done while drinking than when I am sober. The only conclusion that can be drawn is that I need to drink alone a whole lot fucking more.

The Tao of Kenny Rogers

Half Price Books holds many books in its hallowed walls. I am sure somewhere in its musty, lusty confines it even has a bible. But what was found there today trumps all these books. Strangely, it wasn't even a book. It was an audio document of how to be a man, nay, be THE MAN.

This meisterarbeit was called "Kenny Rogers 20 Greatest Hits".

Now before you get all highfalutin hipster on me and say "Kenny Rogers fucking sucks," let me tell you why Mister Rogers songs are a template on how to live a richer, fuller life. I am going to limit the Tao of Kenny to ten lessons, but there are more. Take this as a beginners guide to the Bearded Chicken Slinging Gideon.

1) Don't fall in love with a dreamer. Cause he'll break you every time (from Don't Fall In Love With a Dreamer)
Pretty self explanatory. Level headed or crazy partners are the best. Because dreamers are unrealistic and will break the fuck out of your stride.

2) If a crazy hot chick is at the bar and takes off her wedding ring, go drink whiskey with her (from Lucille)
Bonus points if the chick's husband comes in and bitches about how she left at an inopportune time (say when there are four hungry kids and crops going to shit). You then do what Kenny did and dismiss this guy as a pussy and take the broad to a no tell motel to totally do some nasty cougar hucklebuck. And probably steal her Pall Malls afterwards.

3) Never let a 16 year old Ginger stripper dominate your life (from Scarlett Fever)
Sure, we all like going to strip clubs called the Lucky Star and falling for girls who claim they are older than they are. But we never let them be a proxy for are lifelong dreams. Cause one day they are going to chase their own dreams without you, and you will be left a lonely, broken shell of a man. Possibly with a deadly fever.

4) Drink cheap booze, because it somehow is sweeter than the top shelf shit (from Life or Something Like It)
According to Kenny the cheaper wine is somehow sweeter than the good stuff. Although he may be referring to the woman who is trashy and who is accompanying him to a no tell motel (Again with the cheap motels Kenny? Do you not have a Holiday Inn in your magic town?). This advice loses some credence though because it is set to a beat that vaguely recalls "Margaritaville".

5) If your girlfriend is sexually assaulted, beat the shit out of the perpetrators. Even if your dead daddy told you not to (from Coward of the County)
Kenny knows that fighting is wrong. Mainly because his dad died in prison for fighting. But sometimes not fighting gets you called a pussy. And it makes marauding bands of Brothers Gatlin feel the need to pull a rape train on your girlfriend. Even though your daddy may have made you promise on his deathbed not to fight, sometimes you have to go to the local bar (where the Gatlin's gather, natch), lock the door, and fuck those Crackers up while the other patrons watch. That will show em who's a coward. And it will show great Dalton-in-Road House-like restraint. Because any other man would kill those raping bastards.

6) When crippled in the war, don't trust broads named Ruby. Because they will totally fuck other dudes (from Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town)
Make sure you know who is loyal to you. Because sometimes shit happens. Like getting paralyzed in Vietnam. And when you come back, your lady may want to screw everything and anything with her painted up face because the tackle doesn't work the same. Trust your base instincts and get your shotgun and "put her in the ground" if she can't stay with you for the few months you have left to live. After all, you just need some company.

7) Sing duets with hellafine 80s chicks (see Don't Fall in Love With A Dreamer and We've Got Tonite)
Always pick duet partners who don't fit with you (Sheena Easton's fine Scotch ass? Kim "Bette Davis Eyes" Carnes?). Because its more fun to dance into the unknown sometimes. But don't duet with chicks named Dottie West. Because that just may suck...

8) Let love turn you around and lift you (from Love Will Turn You Around and Love Lifted Me)
Love can truly turn you around. Especially if it is sung as the theme from a movie about Stock Car racing featuring Diane Lane. And love can lift, especially if sung about in a raspy, mannish yet soothing voice.

9) Heed the words of formerly funky ass black dudes (see Lady)
If Lionel Richie comes to you with a song about a lady, you sing the fuck out of that song. Because those in the know know that LR is not only beloved by Islamic men (and may be the key to ending the War on Terr)but also can write a country song better than anyone else (for those doubters, pleeeeeese YouTube "Stuck on You" and "Sail On"). Sometimes, that song may even go to #1 and become your biggest pop hit.

10) Listen to dying men on trains (from The Gambler)
Train trips suck I bet, with all that jostling and staring at cornfields. So if some dude who is wheezing and coughing comes up to you and notices you are out of aces, give him some of your hooch if he asks for it. Because he may impart you with advice such as "you gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away and know when to run." This may be the most universal, succinct and brilliant life path ever put down in a pop song.

There you go. Use these ten tips as a starting point, not an endpoint, on discovering the Tao of Kenny. Take it to heart, and LIVE!!! I just may drop in to see what condition your condition is in from time to time...