Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Goodbye cruel world.

Posted: February 12, 2014 in Uncategorized

The Two Bruces have had it. Despite all our hard work, insightful opinions, erudite musings, sophisticated recipes (er, scratch that one. We didn’t really!), political views, and scatalogical humor, your plebian tastes left you woefully unprepared for which we were happy to serve you. Blame it on a public school system that proffers a lunch program where even a GMO menu would be an improvement.

1796102282_ce86149fc2 Yeah, uh-huh!

Or you could blame it on a political system that provides generally only two candidates with which to entertain us and usually not that well either. Third party candidates are often entertaining but don’t have the budget to cut through the crap the others are throwing up. We use “throwing up” most unguardedly. Cast some blame over there.

How about the preponderance of television shows worshipping at the altar of food? Gordon Ramsey, Nigella Lawson, the fat guy who eats everything, the other fat and balding guy who eats everything, Anthony Bourdain, the Australian guy who looks like he just got out of jail or rehab or both, Alton Whoever, and all the others who would advise you to eat well, eat often, and eat crap. Yeah, you could place some of the blame on them too.

Blame it on personal electronics. How many of you really need to divorce yourself from the world listening to lousy quality music through ear buds? Ear Buds? Really? They sound like something one plants in the spring and waits for the mutant harvest to reveal itself by fall. Ear buds… it sounds like a new Budweiser product. They really contribute to the global dialogue.

Viagra, Cialis (what the hell do those two bathtubs mean anyway!?), Levitra. Oh yeah ED. It seems like there’s an epidemic of ED going around. If you ask Bruce or me, it’s code for special ed and we all know what that means. C’mon, there’s plenty of blame to go around.

So, we could go on, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Even our mothers don’t read this any longer. Convince us otherwise and we’ll continue with the tripe you like. If not, see you on the other side.

Bruce and I, over a wee dram the other night, were discussing the latest in bridge peccadilloes. The latest of course being that of the redundantly named NJ Governor Chris Christie, Fort Lee, and the George Washington Bridge. Where it will all go is anyone’s guess, but this being New Jersey, my old home state, we should be prepared for an entertaining slew of theories, accusations, denials, finger-pointing, more denials, and ultimately not being any closer to the truth than when this story first broke.


But in digging through the archaeological rooms of our library, we discovered that bridges have played more rolls in bringing politicians down, or at least to heel, than assisting them in reaching across chasm-like aisles.

Who can forget the lovely Sarah Palin’s Bridge to Nowhere? To where did it lead her? Yes, she is still on the national scene pandering to those old white men who feel they would like to get her in a voting booth for some “fact-finding” or at least go moose hunting with her? Even cable TV tossed her aside, not once, but twice. Maybe she can get a gig as a guest host on Duck Dynasty which despite its questionable politics is quite funny.


Don’t even mention Chappaquidick. Oops, sorry we did. That was a tidy little bit of bridgework from which Teddy never fully recovered. Of course as with all bridges too far, it was littered with denials before the truth was eventually outed. What is it about bridges that lead pols to folly if not ruination?

And what about Congressman Wilbur Mills (R-Arkansas) and the Tidal Basin Scandal featuring stripper Fanne Foxe. Stopped for a traffic violation, old Fanne bolted the car and jumped into the Tidal Basin in Washington, DC to escape. They didn’t even wait to cross the bridge! That finally gave Fanny an amount of exposure she had never dreamed of previously.


History is filled with bridges which rather than do what they were originally constructed to do have achieved just the opposite. Just ask the River Kwai.


But at least, it helped Sir Alec Guinness’s career immensely.

We confess… we go to a gym. More specifically, a fitness center. One of those shiny open 24 (!) hours ones (do they think they’re New Jersey, for crissakes!), with an entire host of medieval devices designed to thoroughly torture you into submission all the while building you up to resemble an ancient deity, depending of course on your peculiar body type. Yeah, we go to one of those. It’s cheap, nearby, and there are thankfully people who look a hell of lot worse than us. Are we small for saying that? Well, maybe small was the wrong word – after all we are going to this place.

But, more often than not we get the feeling that we’re watching outtakes from the cantina scene in the original Star Wars. There are creatures there we don’t and can’t possibly recognize as  human. There are beings there we don’t understand at all. And it transcends gender. Getting fit is one thing; getting weird, unless you’re in Austin, is another.

9394332501_a74f9a5b31  How do my delts look, man?

The age span is unbelievably broad. From seniors who should know better than to hurt themselves in such ways to children(!), yes children who unless morbidly obese shouldn’t need such self-inflicted agony on their way to physical supremacy.

Not only are the mutated bodies otherworldly, so is the clothing. Normally, a lot of this would be found in a discarded grocery bag found by the drop-off bin at a charity store. But upon closer inspection (please, not that close!), one can see that good money was laid out for this. The tell-tale signs are otherworldly bright colors and insane graphics. Coupled with lycra straining against unbelievable tectonic pressures and it’s a miracle there haven’t been more cellulite explosions pasting innocent victims against gym walls.

One style that many guys appear to favor is the t-shirt with the collar band cut off along with missing sleeves. All the better to show you my delts and biceps, n’est ce pa? It’s a look that went out with the original Flashdance movie. And Jennifer Beals rocked it a hell of lot better than they do. Besides, if a guy is not from New Jersey, don’t try and look like one, poseur! Truthfully, it doesn’t work there either. The same goes for headbands on anyone. You wind up looking like baby Huey.

4524567027_f72bb3d4fa Get the idea?

But those aren’t the only issues with t-shirts. More often than not, the shirt is over-sized or advertising something. Commonly it’s a bar which explains why that person is there either working off fat or a hangover. Then there are those concerned citizens whose shirts celebrate some kind of rally, race, auction, cause, church gathering, or a prayer breakfast for literacy. We can’t forget the family reunion shirts either. Do you really need to be reminded who your family is? We sure as hell don’t. We guess we need to revisit those rules about t-shirts: wear it torn and unadorned or advertise and wear your size. It’s a start.

In a reverse sort of “don’t look at my body, I’m a person not a piece of meat”, men have adopted to wearing enormously baggy shorts as currently favored by NBA players. Gone are the good old days when a bit of leg showing was OK. On the other hand if you’re a woman, you are probably wearing the tightest of lycra (here we go again!) shorts which are painted-on-your-body tight. Yeah, they’re comfortable, but so are baggy gym shorts and you won’t get candida. Think about it.

Has anyone noticed the trend in gym shoes? Some of them make sense in case there’s a power outage and you can’t find your way out of the dark. They’re that bright. The same unfortunately can’t be said of those wearing black gym shoes with matching socks. Really? Does one really need to wear formal gym shoes while working out? So in keeping with that, how about the gym rat who wears the tuxedo t-shirt? He’d better be wearing black shoes to match especially after Labor Day.


Now the gym we go to, sorry – fitness center, is pretty complete. In addition to all the equipment, it features lockers, showers, toilets, and water fountains. So why in hell do people bring in bottled water? Why is there a vending machine, right next to the water fountain, selling bottled water along with other drinks designed to match your hideously colored shoes?  Why indeed.

And what about the inhabitants of this sweat shop? Grotesquely over-developed muscles make the body do rather odd things. Many of the denizens cannot walk straight through a regular door as their arms are sticking out from their bodies at strange angles. They appear to be at the ready in case they’re dropped into a tub of scalding water and are preparing to launch themselves out accompanied by terrified screams.

They also walk funny, duck-like almost, as their feet are splayed out also at ridiculous angles. Couple that with the psychedelic colored shoes, cut-off t-shirts, tightly clutching water bottles, and baggy gym shorts/or lycra and you’ve got a cast of extras from a typical Troma film. Good times, good times.

7439327504_7ea446bdf8                                                                  And as much depth as this cardboard cut-out.

So, during an hour or so at Castle Glute, one can witness all of this and more. So tell me why we pay for cable tv when this is so much more entertaining??

I just don’t understand it.  The Two Bruces are so damn busy they can hardly keep up with basic life needs.  We need to make appointments months in advance simply to have lunch together.  It is very sad.  And, now with football season and the NY Giants just a month away, our schedules will get even worse. So, how do people find the time to be “Facebook Stupid”?

First, I would like to propose some thoughts about Farmville; you know, the farming simulation social network game developed by Zynga in 2009.  Essentially, it features gameplay involving various aspects of farm management such as plowing land, planting, growing and harvesting crops, harvesting trees and bushes, and raising  livestock.  Folks, seriously, if you live in a city and are 50 years old, you should not be playing Farmville.  You should be reading the NY Times once a week, thinking about how to recover your 401(k), and deciding whether reverse mortgages are right for you (they are not).  If that is not enough, how about thinking about serving meals to the poor, picking up a National Geographic, cleaning  the inside of your car, or picking weeds out of your front lawn, all time better spent than virtual farming.  Are you not embarrassed by this?  I mean, seriously;  real farmers say, in Peoria, IL, are dealing with a real life drought and losing their corn crops, and you are likely sitting in your air conditioned bedroom or in your cubicle playing a virtual game involving farming? Phooey on you.   And, are you not embarrassed by asking me to “Join Me In A Game Of Farmville”?   Sorry, I am busy; but maybe sometime in the year 2052, my likely death year.

Second, let’s talk about the stupid act of constantly posting political signs, political leanings, and nasty comments and themes about the opposing candidate in the presidential election. Let me look you in the eye and say that if you truly believe that this type of posting is going to sway my vote, you are likely a dummy and insult my intelligence.     

Oh, thank you Facebook friend and sometimes moron. I just changed my vote based on your newest posting for Mitt  Romney.  Thanks for your important information on him.  I had no clue about his political platform nor did I know anything about the opposing party. I had no clue the Senate was f*****ed up.  I have been playing Farmville all day and just got a little stupid.

Finally, people, who has the time to find and post those stupid and silly touchy feely quotations and inspirations all day long.  You would think that with all of those postings, the people in this country would be rich, thin, beautiful, spiritually enriched, at peace, in love with their neighbors, and just in a good place. NOT!   Here is an example:

I happen to love Maya Angelou.  I happen to not believe in hate.  But what benefit did Facebook readers get when the poster let the world know that he or she does not believe in hate. Come on; does anyone  truly believe that the suicide bomber sitting in some broken down shack, or, the Aurora, CO movie bomber, was moved by this Facebook posting?

Here is another one posted on my page this morning:

Oh, you must be kidding!  Carlos, your words were much more meaningful when you were smoking doobies at Woodstock.  I would have actually listened to you then, rather than on some stupid Facebook posting!

Bottom line, people, don’t be “Facebook Stupid”.  Use this valuable service to provide me with useful information, not to involve me in a game of planting corn on someone else’s computer.

This is the moment of truth. How many of you out there have purchased one of those “_____ for Dummies” books? Don’t sit there and deny it. We’ve seen the sales figures and we know what you’re up to. Get the hell over yourself already! That book ain’t gonna help you! If we can’t help you, then no one can and you’re just SOL. (Look it up, Einstein!) See what we mean by Dummies? Jeez!

Aww, c’mon! Really? (

The publishers have pretty much made their statement as to what they think of you. It’s simple – to them, you’re all dummies. Why else would they keep printing these books?

There is a “Dummie” book for just about anything in the world or so we thought until exhaustive research proved that these, so-called smart guys, (the publishers), over-looked some categories that without these books, you’d all be real dummies. With the exception of course, the two Bruces who will now happily join those so-called smart guys. So before long, you’ll be able to get these new books and enrich your wretched little lives. (Sorry about that, Bruce sometimes forgets his very humble beginnings.) These will be available at all popular book stores not including Borders.  Hey, we’re not dummies here!

For those of you who have mastered writing or some such approximation, take down these titles and buy these books if you want to move up to the position of shift manager of your local Dollar store. That guy in front of you isn’t any smarter than you, he’s just the owners’ idiot offspring from his second wife.

“Breathing for Dummies” – You’d be surprised how many schools have private remedial breathing classes. This should be mandatory to achieve citizenship. It has an advanced section on exhaling which should be read several times to perfect this activity.

“Walking for Dummies” – Left, right, left, right. How hard could that be? Amazingly, not following this can lead to serious and sometimes fatal tripping. The book comes with many simple to follow diagrams and one syllable words for easy reading. (Special discounts offered on crutches.)

Yeah, this is what we’re talking about. Read the “Walking for Dummies”” one first so you can then strut like a pimp. (

“Blinking for Dummies” – Once you get the hang of this, it’ll take forever to read.

“The Dummies’ Guide to Drinking Water” – This is not to be confused with the advanced book “Drinking for Dummies” which is all about alcohol consumption. This, through extensive research and illustrations, will demonstrate the correct way to consume water. Such chapters as “Not through your nose, Dummy” and “Ears are for Hearing” are must-reads.

“Hair-growing for Dummies” – Just look around and you decide who you want to give this book to as a gift. Special six-packs available.

After all of this, if you’re still struggling with life or whatever, we have just the book for you. Do not attempt to read it while walking, talking, eating, any natural process, or for you really big dummies out there, reading.

Let’s be careful out there. (

So, over the past few months, we have heard birds in our chimney, knocking noises all over the house, and seemingly bad odors (ok, we found out later that those were our own odors).   We called an “animal recovery specialist”.  Isn’t that a nice name for a guy who comes over and kills your annoying vermin?

The birds are in the chimney because they have evidently built a nest.  Our builder, Alfred Greenberg & Sons, who received a fortune of money to build our house, left off the all important chimney cap/screen.  Retail price; $25. Price to hear birds chirping at all hours…………..priceless.  Nice work, Alfred.  Hope you and the family are sleeping well since your retirement.

The fellow comes over and tells us that we have a bigger issue; we have “roof rats”.  I asked him to repeat this until I believe his news.   “Yes, sir, I have been in your neighborhood several times recently and roof rats seem to be a problem”.  Damn, that makes no sense.  Roof rats should not live in a clean upscale neighborhood like East Memphis.  Why? Our real estate taxes are sky high  and I do not know a gainfully employed roof rat.

Mr. Exterminator (blunt enough?) told us that the roof rat’s scientific name is Rattus rattus.   Makes me think that mother rats do a disservice by giving their babies the same first and last names.   Historically, they are associated with having spread the plague or black death during the Middle Ages.  Now, they have moved to East Memphis.   Damn, these things should get frequent flyer miles.   The roof rat is also known as the black rat, even though it is not necessarily black in color, but rather is usually dark brown (like it matters).   He tells us that the typical roof rat is between 13 to 18 inches long, including its tail.  No, no, other Bruce, don’t ask me about “13-18 inches long”.  Roof rats are sleek, slender, and agile. He said they have large ears, so at least I have something in common.  The other Bruce’s ears are in proportion to his body; mine are like elephant ears.  I was always kidded about  my ears since I was born.  This makes it especially hard to know that the invading species probably looks like me.

Mr. E told me that they generally only stay in the attic.   He would need to do a complete eradication program over a two day period, costing $2,600.  Great, next vacation will be pared down to an evening driving around the block.  So, I asked how these things get into such a clean house?  Mr. E. told us the following facts, which were very educational:

Roof rat droppings are long and cylindrical – important to know that they do not need fiber

Roof rats are nocturnal  – good to know they are up when I am sleeping and dreaming about creepy things

Roof rats can transmit diseases like the bubonic plague and typhus  – Nice, the 10 plagues may have finally come to my home

Roof rats will enter homes and buildings; they only need a hole the size of a quarter;  Alfred Greenberg…….thanks  again  for   building an expensive home with holes.

Roof rats are good climbers. They can climb walls and use utility lines and fences to travel from structure to structure – Nice to know that roof rats are fit and in shape;  I have to spend $40 per month for my fitness club membership.

Roof rats will nest in trees, woodpiles, garbage, and plants  –  Picky buggers, obviously these are not the ones we used to see in New York City which ate ALL matter.

Roof rats like high places, like attics, which are their preference – Thank God for small favors.

Roof rats do not burrow in the ground or swim – Too bad, I would have invited them to use our pool on Father’s Day had they asked.

Roof rats eat fruits, vegetables, nuts, pet food and invertebrates (spiders and worms, for example). They will also eat paper.   All these things exist in my house. They could have just come for dinner.

Female roof rats can each have up to four litters a year, each containing five to eight young. In urban areas where they have no natural predators, the survival rate of the babies is high – With college so expensive, why would they do this?

Yes, I am in a bad mood about spending $2,600 to eradicate our roof rats.  I am especially angry at them because I am so much bigger and smarter and stronger than they are, and they should have at least picked a good fight.