TK: * was my best friend’s father. * was from Iowa. * was a the only real oil tycoon I ever knew. * also was, at different points in his life, a bootlegger, a stock-car driver and a salesman. * was the kind of father who disapproved of using baby-talk around his infant sons, who… Read More keep the faith.

And we’re back. I think Blogger did that on purpose, just to make Uncle Crappy look silly. Like I need any help in that department.

I’m posting this to a blog, my fucking blog, which has apparently vanished. It’s blank. Gone. I’m waiting for word from Blogger support to find out what happened. In the meantime, let’s pretend that the blank, white pages are Uncle Crappy’s attempt to find Zen on the Internet. Mmmmmmmmmmm…

It’s not like I’m inexperienced in matters related to the Kentucky Derby — I’ve been there, for Christsake, while I was stationed at Fort Knox. But I’m an idiot when it comes to horseracing in general. The wife picked Afleet Alex, who made a good late run but couldn’t get closer than third place. I… Read More horse’s patoot.

It’s 11:30 on Friday night, and I’m still nowhere near being able to pick my choice for the winner of tomorrow’s Kentucky Derby. I have some history with the derby; I’ll see if I can discuss that in the morning. But for now, know this: The one time I attended the derby in person, I… Read More julepilicious.

Let this be said, right off the top: The Wife can make a kick-ass fire, anytime, anywhere. Just look at the one she made in our little Weber grill tonight. I can almost taste those steaks… Another preliminary notation: While she was starting to get ready to grill our steaks, The Wife was desperate to… Read More pittsburgh drinking story no. 692.