Let's Go Murphy's

This is livin

OK. We got Bin Laden. Next up, Bronson Pinchot.

Hint: that ain't water in that bottle.

Line to vote. 1of 3 hallways. Woman left-didn't have time. I replied loudly, then u don't have time to bitch later.

You gotta be effing kidding me. This is getting out of control

This One is Different

It has been 14 years since the Packers won a Super Bowl and while it is an exciting feeling, it is not the same type of exciting feeling we experienced on the 1996 trip to New Orleans and Super Bowl XXXI. It’s different and I can’t put my finger on the reason why, although I do have some theories. Here are just a few:

• I have not been subjected to non-stop playing of parody Packer songs every time I turn on the radio. I’d rip on the Lady GaGa YouTube song but it was made by 9-year olds and I can’t be that cruel.

• This lag between Super Bowl appearances was not as brutal as the 1968-1995 dry spell where we were forced to elevate marginal players to  “hero” status because we didn’t have anyone good. For example:

o   Eddie Lee Ivery

o   Harlan Huckelby

o   Terdell Middleton

o   Kittrick Taylor

o   Randy Vataha

o   Steve Odom

o   Estus Hood

o   and of course…Mossy Cade

• I no longer fit into my circa 1975 John Hadl jersey, so I have no apparel

• I haven’t seen Zubaz pants at church. Then again, I haven’t been to church.

•  We’ve only had 2 quarterbacks since 1992—Brett Favre and Aaron Rodgers. Between 1968 and 1995 we went through three former Bear QB’s; one former Super Bowl QB; a Heisman Trophy winner whose non-Heisman winning brother became a better player; the prides of Green Bay West High School and the Wisconsin Badgers and a replacement player.

Do you remember these great Packer playcallers?

o   Rich Campbell

o   Carlos Brown

o   Anthony Dilweg

o   Don “Majik” Majkowski 

o   Scott Hunter

o   Jerry Tagge

o   Mike Tomczak

o   David Whitehurst

o   Randy Wright

o   Blair Kiel

o   Vince Ferragamo

o   Chuck Fusina

o   Jack Concannon

o   Bobby Douglass

o   Frank Patrick

o   Alan Risher (Our beloved “replacement” QB)

• Aaron Rodgers didn't take us on the “white knuckle ride” the Hillbilly QB did.

•  I am 48 years old and don’t get liquored up on Sundays like I did in the 90’s. For that matter, in the 80’s also.

• This Super Bowl snuck up on us. We didn’t have Super Bowl aspirations like we did in the mid-90’s, so getting there was more of a surprise than anything else.

But I think the real reason is because our Super Bowl was actually played two weeks earlier--the Packer-Bear NFC Championship Game.

Think about it.

The Packers HAD to win that game. If they lost, Chicago would always have the upper hand on us. They would have been unbearable (pun intended). If you think they are rude and obnoxious now, imagine had they won. It’s one thing to call Miller Park Wrigley north, but that’s baseball. This is football. This is the Packers. Losing wasn’t an option.

Face it, a lot of Chicago sports fans are bad winners. Not ALL of them, but a lot of them. It’s not enough for them to win. They have to rub your nose in it and demean you. They park in handicapped spots because the fine is cheaper than lot parking around Wrigley. Granted, they don’t wear cheeseheads, but they do have bad moustaches and wear Blue Blockers. Had the Bears won, we would have been their sports bitch for generations to come. 

But we won. We beat them in their crappy, duct taped together Solider Field. We watched as a city turned on their QB in the days that followed. And while they were griping, we were exorcising the ghost of the Hillbilly and watching a rock star . We were doing the Raji, and ripping off imaginary championship belts. We were wearing cheeseheads proudly, WITH jean shorts. We were so elated with our victory and happy with our heroes, we didn’t have time to put Bear fans down. That, my friends, is why I love Wisconsin.

What a great day to be a Packer fan. 

Wanna see my scar?

I bet you can't look away. Yeah, that's my ass. Its nasty. But the pain meds rock.

Untitled

Brett and the Boy

It Was Time

They say you will know when it's time.

We had to put Scilla down Monday. She was 18 ½ years old to the day—almost completely deaf, practically blind, and couldn’t get up and down the stairs anymore. But, she still ate like a horse, got excited when you came home, followed you everywhere and loved to sleep on your lap, just like she did as a puppy. We carried her up and down the stairs, outside to go to the bathroom and cleaned up accidents without even batting any eye. Because that’s what you do for a family member.

Over the last few months, her health was deteriorating more rapidly and we knew, “that day” was coming. On Monday, she began having seizures. Nothing extreme or overly dramatic, but nonetheless cause for concern. After a while, she seemed to be doing a bit better, but when she whimpered as she laid down, we knew. We hadn’t heard as much as a yip out of her in almost a year (Deafness will do that to you).

Scilla was my wedding gift to Sue. I remember the day we bought her from the pet store. There was a big open pen in the middle of the store with about five or six puppies. Right next to it was a big sign that read, “Do NOT handle the puppies.” Sue walked up, looked in the pen and walked away. Scilla followed her around the inside of that pen everywhere she went. Sue walked back over to her at which point the store owner said, “Go ahead, pick her up.” Sold. 

She was two years old when Patrick was born. People said to us, “You’re going to have problems with her. She’s used to being the queen of the house.” But, when Patrick went back into the hospital because he was jaundice, she laid by his bassinet for two days. In return, he taught her how to eat table scraps by pushing his food over his high chair tray, where she learned to sit below him and wait like a harbor seal at Fisherman’s Wharf.

She chased bubbles in the summertime to the point where one day we had to carry her up the stairs because her muscles were so sore. She jumped at the snow shovel in the winter, becoming covered in snow balls to the point where we had to put her in the bathtub to dry out. She ruined three couches because she had to lay on the very top of the cushions. She jumped out of a moving car, got bitten by a German Shepard and ate over a pound and a half of chocolate in one sitting.

  

Over the years we watched her grow from “Baby Scilla” to “Mama Scilla” and finally to “Gramma Scilla." Each year, our Christmas Card picture was of Patrick in his hockey jersey holding her by the tree. This year, there won’t be a card.

But, it was time.

I was at work, stuck in two meetings, so Sue took her to the vet. Scilla used to shake like crazy when we got anywhere near the place, but this time she was peaceful and calm. Sue walked into the room and Scilla laid down on the table. She didn’t give Sue the “Why are you doing this to me?” look, she just quietly slipped away.

I know some people think we're crazy because it hurts so much. Honestly, we couldn’t care less. Little dogs aren’t supposed to live that long, but we believe she lived as long as she did because she knew how much we loved her, and we knew how much she loved us. She didn’t want to lose us as much as we didn’t want to lose her.

But it was her time.

It's pretty quiet around our house now. We don’t hear the jingle of the tags on her collar. We have no reason to put our dinner plates on the floor after we’ve finished eating. We don’t see her standing on the top of the stairs, looking to see if it was really us coming home. It sucks.

If this was a letter written on paper, it would be drenched in tears. But that’s what happens when you lose someone who gave you over 18 years of truly unconditional love. But keeping her alive any longer would have just been selfish on our part. 

We know she’s probably somewhere chasing bubbles with Molly, or yipping at Grover. She’s happy again, and one day we will be too. 

Good-bye Scilla. We will love you always.

Climbing the Polls

See and download the full gallery on posterous

MUHS Hockey jumps to #5 in the state. Keep it up boys.

How good are these seats?

My Packer seats every Sunday. I'm s season ticket holder. No PSL. No waiting list. Comes with optional nap. Jealous? You should be.

How good are these seats?

My Packer seats every Sunday. I'm s season ticket holder. No PSL. No waiting list. Comes with optional nap. Jealous? You should be.

Thank You for Your Support - 2012 Here I Come.

The mid-term elections are over and sadly, I was not elected to any public office. But, I'm OK with that because I put our politicians on alert. A mighty wind of change is coming. Hopefully, it's not down wind from the landfill.

I hereby formally announce my write-in candidacy for Senate in 2012. Yes, Senator Kohl, I'm coming after you. It's time you turn your attention to returning the Bucks to the halcyon days of the 1970's and 80's and relinquish your Senate seat to someone who won't blindly vote the party line or respond to constituents with badly written form letters.

Here are my promises.

I will not formally file candidacy papers. With three jobs, I don't have time to chase down signatures.

(And yes, I am thankful I have three jobs, and I will work my a$$ off to build an economy where I only need two jobs, thus freeing up my third job to be taken by someone who has no job). 

I am running as a straight up write-in candidate. And I don't have a tough to spell last name like that woman in Alaska. Although, some people do forget there is a "d" before the "t" in my last name.


I will not formally fundraise. How can I possibly charge someone $250 dollars a plate for a piece of dried out chicken, room temperature green beans almondine, and a dollop of crusty mashed potatoes, and  some sort of nasty flourless chocolate cake thing for dessert. Not to mention adding insult to injury by having a cash bar. Free Beer and Wine at least - just like a Wisconsin wedding.

I am pro-choice. Pro choice doesn't necessarily mean pro-abortion. It means I am for choices. I won't tell you what choice I would make, but everyone should be entitled to make a choice. The train has left the station folks. You can't overturn Roe v. Wade. It's too late, that's a fact - not a position. Additionally, pro-life people who cement themselves in a car are nuts. Period.

For the record, gay marriage is not the same as marrying a table. Theoretically, I was probably married to a tube sock for most of my teenage years and I'm not gay. As I have said many times before, I have no problem with a gay couple moving into my neighborhood. They keep their house up, do beautiful landscaping and generally have a fine assortment of baked goods on hand at all times. They also make great martini's and have impeccable taste in sweaters. Everybody wins.

I will treat the economy like the way I approach my personal finances. It's simple. If you run up your credit card, you don't pay it off with another credit card. You cut the credit card, tighten the belt and give up unnecessary indulgences until you pay the thing off. (Except for the Friday Fish Fry. Some things are non-negotiable). 


I will debate anyone at anytime. Provided the questions aren't given out before the debate. I did forensics in high school - 4 minutes extemporaneous speaking. I have no interest in debating someone who is more concerned with memorizing their lines than they are with sharing their personal vision. If you don't know where you stand on an issue when it's thrown at you, you aren't qualified to hold public office. Period.

No Teleprompters. Ever.

I will do what I can to take care of the poor, handicapped and elderly. They need our help. It's the right thing to do. It's the human thing to do. The lazy on the other hand, you're on your own.

If I have a stance on an issue that is unpopular, I promise to sack up and be a man, not a coward. Yes, Governor Doyle, I am calling you a coward. And should I ever meet you, I will call you a coward to your face. However, I am betting by that time you will be working at your presidentially appointed job you were promised when you agreed to jam the train deal up our asses under the cover of darkness. You want to talk self-serving dick moves - that was one of the biggest I have ever seen.

That last comment is the only personal attack I will ever make on a politician. I promise. But what Doyle did was a total dick move of epic proportions.

I will not hire an ad guy or a consultant. I will run my entire campaign with a Flip cam, Facebook, YouTube, Flickr and maybe Twitter. But I think Twitter is stupid, so maybe not Twitter. Hey, if a million people can get Betty White on SNL, I should be able to garner 2% of the vote.

So, here is my concession speech. I thank you all and look forward to having your continued support as I race for the Senate in 2012.

Brandt for Senate in 2012

Why? Why not?  

Here's Your Last Shot at Sanity

It’s down to the end of the line folks. Less than 8 hours to vote for your favorite unqualified douche canoe to serve themselves for the next (insert term length here). Lord knows our selection of nut bags is the widest it’s ever been. At least in my lifetime. You’ve got Harry Reid and Christine O’Donnell on the national stage for starters. Right here in Wisconsin we’ve got Rebecca “Gay Marriage is like marrying a table” Kleefisch and Tom “I’m qualified to be governor because I can take a punch” Barrett”, right here in our own state.

I know it’s too late to do anything. But if you haven’t voted yet, I am asking for you to write me in – for any position. I don’t care. But I’ve got to be better than what’s out there.

But, before you vote – educate yourself. Take a look at my entire television campaign. I didn’t spend millions of dollars. I shot it all at home and in my car with a $168 Flip Cam. That makes me fiscally conservative. And I don’t think gay marriage is the same as having sex with a table, so that makes me socially liberal.

Take a quick look. If you like what you see, write me in – for anything. Because a vote for me, is…well…a vote for me.

“I’m Running for Anything”

“I Don’t Have Genital Warts”

“Take a Civics Class”

“Don’t Play God With My Family”

“The Tea Party Movement”

“I Love the Great State of Wisconsin”

We are so f*cked. 

What is it with artists and naked people?

I walk to class every Monday and Wednesday through Mitchell Hall, home to many of the fine arts programs at UWM. The one thing I have noticed, aside from the din of african drumming emanating from the dance studios, is the preponderance of nude art lining the walls.

I realize the nude body is supposed to be a beautiful life form, but seriously, there are A LOT of nude pictures. I don't even know if you are supposed to call them pictures or if that is bourgeois. Point is, naked is apparently all the rage on the second floor.

And...it's not even good naked. It's often times disturbing naked.  I don't want to see that kind  of naked. Don't get me wrong, I like naked as much as the next person, after all, it's human nature. But I like the "happy, fun, and frolicking" naked - not the "gloomy, self-loathing, my life is horrendous so I am going to lay here in the fetal position" naked. So, to the budding UWM artists, please shy away from sad naked, because we could all use a little happy naked in our lives from time to time.

Thank you.

Note to Self: Don't Eat Tuna and Clam Chowder for Lunch if You Have an Afternoon Business Meeting

The title is self explanatory.

I went to Eagan's for lunch. Not sit down, just through the deli part. They have great clam chowder (every day, which kicks ass), and you can pair it with a small pasta salad for $5.25. Good deal. So I pair it up with  the tuna pasta salad. Tasty.

About halfway through the meal it dawned on me...I have a business meeting this afternoon. What I don't have is gum.

So here I stand. Committed to a delicious meal. Committed to a client meeting. And a mouth that smells like Puget Sound with no sign of any breath cleansing products in the near vacinity. I do have some fruit flavored Rolaids, but that isn't going to cut it. It'll only make me smell like a Yellowfin Marmalade sandwich.

My plan - remain silent in the meeting and repeatedly drop my ass, shooting my co-worker looks of disgust each time the cloud rises.

It's the only out pitch I've got.

Dear Morbidly Obese Used to Be Naked Shaving Man...

...the gym thanks you 

I don't mean to sound insensitive, but the sight of you shaving naked was about the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. That is, if you don't count that part of "Faces of Death" where the Malaysians eat the brains out of live monkeys. That would be ranked number one. Followed by you Mr. Morbidly Obese Naked Shaving Man. Third place is held by Dane Cook - EVERYTHING by Dane Cook.

What the hell, why don't I just give you my "Top 5 Disgusting Things I Have Ever Seen".

1. Morbidly Obese Naked Shaving Man
2. Malaysians eating the brains of live monkeys in "Faces of Death"
3. Dane Cook
4. Two Girls and a Cup. (Although I have never actually seen the video, I have heard it is the grossest thing in the world. Even with my overactive imagination, I can't picture it being more disgusting than Dane Cook.)
5. KISS - with Vinnie Vincent on Guitar. (What the hell was that Egyptian thing all about?)

Anyway, getting back to the subject at hand, I was very happy when you decided to wear your underpants while shaving. Thank you.

To your credit, I admire your conviction to be at the gym every day and do something about your weight. Most people your size give up, lay in bed and fry chickens on their chest with a plug in frying pan - waiting for the rescue department to come by, blow out a wall and forklift them out of their room and transport them to Brookhaven. Where they will cry, complain and still not lose weight because their enabler keeps sneaking in McDonald's Angus Snack Wraps. (You gotta admit, those are pretty damn good). But you are working out, and for that you are to be commended.

With one exception. I too go to the Starbuck's right after my workout. However, unlike yourself, I don't crush two Cranberry Scones at 400+ calories each. SPOILER ALERT - you won't lose weight when you crush the pastries after the workout. Try a little protein instead. Try hammering down a leftover pork roast or something. Anything is better than a pastry made from about 10% flour and 90% butter. Now, I realize I am no Val Kilmer in the volleyball scene of Top Gun. As a matter of fact, I feel more like John Candy in Summer Rental (Hawks jersey and all), but at least I have enough sense to go for the apple bran muffin.

Anyway, keep up the good work. I can tell you've dropped some pounds - not enough to see your naughty bits yet, but looking good nonetheless. Oh, and didn't the process of losing sight of your naughty bits send up a red flag. Like, "I can barely see my naughty bits, I better put this pecan pie away." I can't imagine completely losing sight of them before I did anything about it.

But I digress.

One last favor - even if you do drop the 300 lbs. you hope to, please don't naked shave ever again. No one looks good naked shaving - not even Mr. Ambiguously Gay Naked Shaving Man, and he's in great shape. He also carries a fine assortment of toiletries and sundries with him – and that’s a good thing.

  

peace

-kb

Let the Mudslinging Begin

The fight card has been finalized. Walker vs. Barrett for Governor. Feingold vs. Johnson for Senator. Both bouts on the card are anticipated to be heavyweight battles. That remains to be seen, however, I can guarantee both fights will be marked by cheap shots and low blows. We saw it in the preliminaries heading up to the primary on Tuesday. It’s only going to get worse.

I don’t know who is creating the ads. I don’t know who is approving the ads. Frankly, I don’t care. I am sick and tired of the whining, the finger pointing, the “he did this” and the “well you did that” back and forth crap. The attack ads have to stop. Why? Because attack ads are doing a disservice to the people you are so nobly hoping to serve. You have just spent hundreds of thousands of dollars telling my why to vote AGAINST your opponent, not why I should vote FOR you.

Let me ask you, do you think a product would take this approach? Would they spend their limited marketing dollars talking about why the competition is bad? I can tell you this, if they did, they wouldn't have many customers that liked them. Let me give you an example. What if a Coors Light said, “A lot of people think Bud Light is a good beer. But do you really want a beer that can give you a headache and make you vomit a day after drinking it? Neither do we. So buy a Coors Light.” Yeah, this would work just fine. 

Now, it's time to rip on the candidates. 

Let’s start with Scott Walker. The brown bag gimmick is just that – a gimmick. Someone sat in a room and said, “Hey, we've got to come up with a 'big idea' we can 'hit our of the park'. You know, 'think out of the box'. We need an equivalent of the 'Tea Party Movement'. Wait, I’ve got it, the Brown Bag Movement!" Unfortunately, the Tea Party Movement was organic and named by a third party. You just gave yourself your own nickname there T-Bone. 

However, I will say this much, this ad doesn’t talk about how the other guy sucks, which is good. But then you go to the dark side.

STTRREETTCCH. Yes, Nancy Pelosi is indeed the icon of evil for your Republican party. So what. Here's a thought - Neumann is a German name. Why didn’t you just tie him to Hitler? Come on Scott, you’re better than that.

Mayor Barrett - exploiting the physical attack on you from last year? Really? 

I realize calling out the relevance of this ad is a slippery slope. What happened to you was terrible. I felt horrible when I heard the news of the attack. But to use it as a campaign ad? Mayor, please. 

But what does this have to do with being qualified to be Governor? It says nothing about your economic policy, or your plan to lower unemployment. I don’t necessarily need a Governor who isn’t afraid to step into a bar fight. Personally, I see it as a sympathetic play. If it weren't, you wouldn’t have put the photo of you in a neck brace in the spot. Come on Tom, you’re better than that.

Senator Feingold, you spin more than a college freshman’s bed after his first kegger. Well, you don't per se, you've convinced (hired) other people to do it for you. Question. Did they get scale? 

I love the wording, “Ron Johnson would cut off unemployment benefits for the unemployed.” There's nothing quite like assuming someone might do something and then skewering him on it is there? You don’t know that for sure. You’ve voted for tax increases and increased spending in the past so can I make an assumption and say “Russ Feingold would keep borrowing money from the Chinese until we have to give them every state from Wyoming to the Pacific Ocean.”  Come on Russ, you’re better than that.

Ron Johnson – I didn’t know you were clairvoyant? You know exactly what Russ Feingold is going to do in his next ad?

Boo Hoo. Russell is going to call you names. Sack up Ron, you’re better than that.

Candidates - didn't your parents ever tell you, “If you need to put someone else down to make yourself look bigger, you are the one who is the smaller person”? If they didn’t tell you, then I’m telling you.

Here’s my world in a nutshell. The economy sucks. I’m working 3 jobs and still paid over $3000 in taxes ABOVE my withholding last year. I don’t have time for your bellyaching. I want a ride back home to my shining city on a hill, and I don’t want to spend the entire car ride listening to you bitch about each other. I want to ride on the high road. 

That being said, THIS is how you do a campaign ad. THIS is what affects people. Not negative talk. You show me this and you’ll get my vote even if you belong to the flippin Longaberger Party. Watch and learn gentlemen. Watch and learn.

Finally, a message to all – VOTE! Even if you’re not getting free smokes.