Archive for February, 2012

Key Lime Cafe, Stuart Fl

Sunday, February 19th, 2012

Outdoor dining in great weather is a hard to beat allure when looking for lunch on a sunny afternoon. Key Lime Cafes outdoor seating area offers just the right mix of sun and shade, along with drink specials and a grill style menu.

After dining today at Key Lime Cafe, I decided to read other sites customer reviews before writing one of my own.

Snip, clip or strip will ya mate

Tuesday, February 14th, 2012

 

Come on man! Those ear, nose eyebrow and neck hairs aren’t working for you. Just because your older now and can’t see them too well doesn’t mean they aren’t visible to others. That eyebrow isn’t supposed to meet the nose hair at the center of your cheek. I am surprised that they don’t ignite when you light that cigar! Ask the wife or your favorite salon girl to clean you up. And please… do it once a month after that.

Just One Man’s Opinion

Policticans SUCK..well most of them

Thursday, February 9th, 2012

Do I give a crap about being politically correct. No. If all politicians don’t suck its only because they are too new at it.

It’s really difficult to avoid talking politics today. Everyday I’m inundated with emails about our representatives from all levels of government about what crimes and negligence they are part of. No matter which side you stand by (and I really can’t believe that some still are staunch supporters of their party), you have to be questioning what the hell is going on. Politicians at all levels are ripping us off, practicing insider trading, overtaxing us to pay for their special interest groups, lying under oath (see Holder), committing crimes (see Fannie/Freddie), not being arrested and then being placed in new positions under this administration and so on and so on. This is not only sickening and disgraceful, but what I don’t understand is that so many of the general public still think that this is just part ‘conspiracy theory” nonsense, racism or even worse, they just accept it.

When, if at any time will this end? Are people not fed up enough to demand that our politicians be held accountable for this mess we are in? Its time to stop this business as usual and elect people who aren’t lifetime politicians. How about running the country like it was a small business. When a small business owner faces declining business, he can’t raise prices and expect that customers will come in and just pay more. He has to cut expenses, trim the fat and possibly take home less income to save jobs and the business itself. I have an idea. How about our politicians pay into social security, Obama-care(or whatever the health plan is we are mandated to join), limit terms with no pensions or lifetime pay and eat from the same dish they are serving us. Wouldn’t that help trim the deficit? After all, we have all been asked to suck it up and pay more in taxes to fix the mess they created but never once do we see our reps taking a hit for the better of the country. Is it really that difficult to comprehend? No, not really but why would anyone buy into that notion if its never demanded of them.

Wake up folks! Your losing your homes and retirement savings with no better plan ahead to help you get them back. Politicians are still living and saving at the same levels they have been for years. Has any of them been affected by this like we have? Our President, his family, his staff and lower level politicos continue to fly around our country on taxpayers dollars while a great majority of us are worrying about where the next paycheck will come from. Does it make sense that the employee in this case does better than the employer? Where else in the world does that happen?

Wake up! Its getting late and your letting this happen. Get out and vote for who’s better on their platform, not who’s better on camera. Hold the next group accountable and lets start working on “real change” this time.

Just one man’s Opinion
The Regular Guy

The Super Bowl..one players thoughts

Monday, February 6th, 2012

Great take on the game itself..thought I should share this in case you missed it

Editor’s note: Minnesota Vikings punter, Tripping Icarus bass guitarist, video game aficionado and Twitter icon (@ChrisWarcraft) Chris Kluwe offers his take on the Super Bowl for the Pioneer Press.

The Super Bowl. It is the culmination of an entire year’s worth of work for 106 players and their coaches. It is the gladiatorial spectacle writ large, an entire nation the stage, hundreds of millions of spectators enthralled by 60 minutes of savagery, a chance for three hours to be part of something greater than an individual life. It is the chance for an obscure name to clamber atop the pedestal of greatness or for a celebrated veteran to ruin a career with one ill-timed drop or errant pass. It is the opportunity to rise above the mundane and the petty and achieve immortality. It is everything.

The Super Bowl. It is nothing. It is the overindulged watching the overcompensated while marketing companies rub their well-manicured hands with glee. It is the definition of materialistic consumption as million-dollar advertisements vie with one another to see which can blare the loudest, bedazzled peacocks and sequined foxes strutting their wares for an insatiable audience drunk off emotion and liquor and too many mini hotdogs such a steal at only $3 a box and, no, don’t ask what’s in them.

The Super Bowl. It is a celebration of life. It is the child who grew up with a blind father and almost had to quit playing football to support his family never having to worry about money again. It is the receiver who, despite all odds, was able to fill in at cornerback and make a key play to keep his team in the game. It is the fan who found the strength to rise above the miserable conditions at home, inspired by his favorite team, now a doctor or teacher or mentor and cheering that team on from the stands. It is that penultimate story of the quarterback no one thought would amount to anything, now living the Hollywood dream with a supermodel wife and widely regarded as the best player at his position and, boy, if you tried to pitch that as a movie script, would you be laughed out of the room.

The Super Bowl. It is the funeral march of despair. It is the same quarterback, slowly walking off the field after having come so close to victory only to watch it snatched away by an improbable circus catch, the width of a blade of grass the difference between perfection and an offseason of what-ifs. It is the bitter taste left in the mouth of an entire organization, one some have felt more keenly than most, to travel so far and walk away with only a consolation “Division Champion” ring that most would rather melt down than look at, so stinging are the memories. It is the knowledge that on the one day when it mattered the most, at the pinnacle of greatness, you JUST WEREN’T GOOD ENOUGH GET A JOB YOU LAZY BUM, never mind that those words will echo through your mind long after the lights are shut down and the last piece of confetti is swept away, perhaps to linger the rest of your life. It is the sickening thwack of an angry husband striking his wife, unable to articulate the pent-up frustration and rage he experiences from watching what is, after all, only a game.

The Super Bowl. It is the pathos of the stage on a scale Sophocles could only dream of, a million different story lines merging and swirling together to form one vast tapestry of drama, comedy and tragedy – a resonating stillness of chaos that brings the audience and actors alike so close to a transcendental moment that can never be captured, only experienced. It is the shining instant of perfection, but it is not guaranteed, never guaranteed, only the chance to participate, and is it any wonder that it happens on a Sunday?

The Super Bowl. It is the ultimate dichotomy, at once both a celebration of socialist equality amid the thunderous roar of a capitalistic juggernaut, a dance that any team can attend with that promiscuous belle of the ball, Advertising. It is our society, our culture, our America. It is the gloriously triumphant epitaph that will one day adorn our tombstone of decadence, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

It is the Super Bowl.