Freddogg Off The Chain

I am not a republican but beyond that I am open minded. Last night I watched the Democratic Forum of candidates hosted by Tavis Smiley and Howard University and I concluded it was “so lame” and so offensive to Afro Americans and socialized solutions to individual problems that Mitt “The Mormon” Romney may emerge as the next President.

When I watch Cops on television featuring shirtless white people on crank –excuse me Euro Americans- I don’t expect to field a bunch or question about white people and how the government can help them.


There was discussion about achievement gaps in education, economic inequities, and this factoid that Afro Americans make up 17 percent of the teenage population but 67 percent of the new reported cases on HIV.

I wanted one of the students in the audience to jump up and shout: “Will you all shut up already! Black people must take care of themselves. That’s what I did and the rest of the people here. Stop assuming were all criminally inclined butt pirates whose main desire in life is to attend school with white people. We’re not ghetto and when we graduate and go on for advanced degrees we ain’t going back to a ghetto we never came from in the first place.”

This forum coincided with a Supreme Court ruling which basically said race can’t be the sole determiner in diversifying schools and all the democrats were going off including Obama who said without Brown v Board of Ed in 1954 he would not be running for president and I’m like,” What?”

Columbia undergrad and Harvard law School. Attended private school in Hawaii. His wife is Harvard law school grad. His father was a Kenyan born Harvard educated economist his mother a Caucasian Anthropologist. Dad died Mom split for Indonesia Barak raised by his white grandparents Tell me again about Brown v Board of Ed.

Obama may be too smart to be president but not too black. Hilary a bitch? Ya think? Edwards? What is he thinking? Biden? Are you serious? I have two words. Hair plugs.

I know too many successful black people to even say I know too many because that’s an insult. And talking about all the social problems suffered my minorities is also an insult.

A campaign of personal responsibility is desperately needed in this country. Call it “The War on Ourselves.”

Who gives a flying carpet about Sunnis and Shiites?

Later my dogs of all species.

Big BowWow Freddogg

Haley is my neighbor and friend and she wanted to find a turtle. I found a cool yellow box turtle- Haley is eight years old- so I asked her mother if I could give to her and Mom said, ”Not really, what am I supposed to do with it?” and I said, "make Haley happy until it latches onto her lower lip then return it to nature.”

My street is loose and contains imperfect, sort of spooky offbeat characters, which is the way I like it. So I’m walking home and this car slows down and a guy ask if I live along the street and did I notice a puddle of dried white paint on our new black top and I said honestly I don’t notice stuff like that.
I can see his wife’s torso only in the passenger seat. The guy goes on and on about how the BFI trash truck was spilling paint last Monday and he was following the trail. He said he called them to come clean up but they said something unintelligible which I know in local culture means "go fuck yourself you asshole import with a perfect lawn."

The guy said he didn’t want any trash truck dropping paint in his community- I interrupted-It’s one road your Nassau Woods is hardly a community and I ratcheted my game to attack mode because I knew if I lived in his community he might get offended when Darby Dog activated his motion sensitive flood lights and I would have to just kill his ass on the spot.

He told me he called the Delaware Department of Natural Resources because the paint constituted a chemical spill. At that point I was contemplating dragging him by his head and neck through the open window and telling his wife to stop dressing like a high school girl because it wasn’t working.

The bottom line is this guy is wearing a Fathers Day Road racing shirt and I cover all the races and he never bothers to introduce himself too busy talking about dried white paint on a hot black road.

I know I must steal a shrub from his front yard then plant it in the front yard of the Lesbians who live up the street from me then I can just sit back and enjoy the fruits of my reckless indifference that result in his hospitalization.

Just a walkin the Freddogg

A Draff is an animal found in the Philadelphia zoo it's just the way we say it.


A no butt big bellied speedo wearing guy.I've seen too many.They should be arrested.
I spent most of my life believing there was no such thing as ugliness there were just preferences because no animal was intrinsically ugly. I used to advance the notion all the time in my psychology classes and it was always the educated black guys who laughed and told me everyone knew ugly when they saw it so why was I tripping?
I came around to agreeing that indeed nature places unattractive people among the larger herd- call it ugly if you wish it’s only a word-but it wasn’t until my wife’s cousin Timmy talked of the racial mixing of a previously isolated white coal town and said not trying to be smart or mean,”There are no girls left for the ugly white guys” or as I heard a woman comedian say,”Fat white girls need loving too.”

Tell me there is no sociological trend here in the USA but know you are all the way bullshit. Next tell me that all lack of physical action is because of low motivation most likely caused by depression. I used to believe that also. I believed some people weren’t motivated to even get out of their own way but that there was no physical state of being known as laziness but I have also changed my stance on that BUT ONLY ONCE A DAY BECauSE IT MAKES ME TIRED.

Last night I watched a program about morbidly obese people in a hospital and there was this one 600 pounder and the doctor in charge of the clinic said, “In addition to all Carl’s physical problems he is also the laziest person I know. Carl hadn't been out of bed in four years”

So I guess you could be all those things rolled into one inert humongous human perogie. Life is tough!

Freddogg

Reporter to famed bank robber Willie Sutton."Willie why do you rob banks?"
"Becuase that's where the money is."

If you have never pointed a loaded gun at a warm blooded mammal it is wise to practice at home. "Practice? We talkin practice."

I can’t use real names in this story involving real people because of the Google Search phenomena would trace it back to me and then my big brother might get mad and start chasing me around the house.
A guy Tom taught high school with for an entire career, a guy he carpooled with for 20 years, a teacher who was a three time teacher of the year, recently moved to Connecticut with his wife to be closer to his son and two grandchildren. The local newspaper said the couple was living off social security disability benefits to which I say,”Caucasian Please! Just shut the hell up and deal like the rest of us working/retired slobs. And I’m tired of elderly obese sloths getting handicapped plates, which is why I always park in their place if I’m late covering a road race because what are they going to do park close then run?
Anyway this friend of my brother's was down on his luck, morose and financially strapped, not to mention depressed because among his catastrophic maladies was skin cancer. And his wife suffered from a myriad of psychological disorders especially panic attack which is why he kept poking her blouse in a bit of panic button humor.
So one fine day as the song goes, this couple decided to get two loaded handguns and rob a bank. Now I can’t imagine a state of mind where I point a loaded pistol at a small town teller while my panic attack wife sits out on the street with her own gun and the engine of her VW Passat running and CD changer on random.
Teacher of the Year walked out of the bank with 10 grand and 16 minutes later the couple was in custody.
I called the state police office in the small Connecticut town because my brother wanted to know what was going on and I actually talked with the arresting officer who told me it was the strangest and most bizarre case he had ever had the pleasure to interrogate and all but said it was filed under “what the fuck?”
The destitute couple each made bails of $500,000 and are now awaiting trial. I talked my brother into calling the guy which he did and basically if not ironically the getaway driver may walk as part of plea agreement.
You will see this case go national and turned into a Lifetime movie. I admit it, I wish one of my friends and his wife would rob a bank preferably armed with shoulder sidewinder missle launchers. I think that would be so cool.

Freddogg

I have done everything to an oil burner than is humanly incomprehensible and on one frigid morning encounter I was only wearing white socks.
I emerged from the basement steps with number 2 fuel oil on by breath and black smudges all over my body. My wife had just come down the back stairwell and just stopped and stared at me her powers of observation and cerebral processes disabled like a blown boiler engine frozen between bewilderment and nonchalance.
“What are you doing, ’she asked and I said, ”I am the repairman of your fantasies” and she asked, “do we have heat?” and I said,” No” and she said,” Can you make coffee?” and I responded “why should I make coffee” and she said, ”I though we were talking about my repairman fantasy.”
I grew up in a household with a disabled father and a sump pump in the basement ready to electrocute my dumb ass so I never went down there. And what is the difference between a grommet and a gasket and why are they so important?
My oil burner had a red and black cast iron housing which protected my nose from a spinning device called an impeller. One time when the baseboard heat wasn’t working I backed out four bolts and was holding this impeller hanger in my left hand as scolding hot water from the entire system drainer out onto my right knee. Because I’m athlete and stupid I managed to put it back together which was like plumbing naked under a hot running shower.
I have touched a spinning fan in a car engine, shot myself in the hand with a big assed nail gun, crashed to the ground aboard sliding ladders and once feel though an attic into the room below catching myself on the ceiling joists in a double chicken wing emergency save.
Then there are the mistakes that kill things rather than people like the two times I plugged a radio into a 22o amp outlet because I thought it would get stronger a.m. reception.
The NPR website just did a story on the most common household mishaps that send people to the emergency room. People who listen to classical music should not touch power tools and neither should athletes. Those two groups represent the most situationally stupid people I know.

Freddogg

“Not everyone can carry the weight of the world. Talk about the passion.” REM

Once I saw a New Yorker cartoon of an older man just staring out a picture window. He hadn’t moved through many chimes of the Westminster mantle clock. Two bun headed women are in the background and one says to the other,”What is wrong with your husband? Is he o.k.?
“Charlie is fine. He’s just the only person I know who is capable of comprehending the big picture.”

I had a squirrelly of personality student in the early nineties in my Problems of Democracy class whom I dubbed “Big Picture Man” as he could take the most inane and inconsequential event of the day and turn it into of series of consequences with doomsday results. And this kid was blond and athletic if you count soccer and everyday we all got him going until the class and I would say, ”And now a few words from our sponsors and then back to more observations from “Big Picture Man.”

One mid winter day I was standing in the school cafeteria when Big Picture Man began to tantrum because his chocolate coated wafers got stuck inside the twirling dispensing wheel of the Lance Cracker machine. I liked this kid Matt but “bite me you fucking Lance mother fucker” I found strident and over-reactive and set against the backdrop noise of teenage grunting and slurping noises and observing fat girls picking cheese off the pizza with the fingers Matt grew increasingly annoying inside my big picture world.

And then I saw him out of the corner of my eye coming at the cafeteria using the hallway as a run-up. Matt looked like an Olympic long jumper barreling down the runway. He flew into the cafeteria went horizontal air born right under my chin and exploded with a double legged drop kick into the side of the dented Lance machine which couched up his wafers.

A dorky principal also saw it and came over and instructed me to "write him up" as in disciplinary infraction.

“But that’s just what he’ll be expected us to do,”I said. “And that will feed into his Big Picture paranoia. I think I’ll just make him Athlete of the Week.

Let’s talk about the passion which for me is enjoying people, the crazier the better.

Freddogg

"When a man loves a woman can’t keep his mind on nothing else especially when that woman is himself.”

A man from the West Coast everyone knows here on the East Coast as Charlie Brown, a man that ran in California with a running club of recovering hard core on the street drug addicts, a man easy to like and thankful for those who have helped him in his life.

And that man decides for gender reassignment to become a woman and to run in road races wearing a two piece. I think maybe Charlie calls himself Charlene but when he says hello to me I still call him Charlie.

Charlie is “way out” so I am not talking behind his back nor is my intention to make fun because you see like others I like this gentle person and wish him only the best but my feeling is that most cases or reassignments end badly not because of faulty adjustment on the part of the transforming person it’s the normal block heads who well up with violent feelings over what they consider freakish.

I wish my "Boy Charlie" all the best but if he takes some lesbian's trophy away in a race it won’t be a fair fight that’s all I’m saying.

How do you all feel about transsexuals? That is your homework assignment.

Freddogg keeping a leg up!

Let me get on Paris Hilton for a minute. “Get off me Fredman I can’t breath.”

I am on her side if she has one. She is just a young girl without a clue and nothing to say and little to offer. She is attractive and alluring in the way you want to get close to a Blue Heron until you realize “what a weird looking bird.”

And Paris or any other young woman shouldn’t have to sit in the middle of a room on a toilet that has an observation window in the door. And nobody goes to jail for a suspended license and how did fat assed Sharpton and his 1957 James Brown haircut get into this? He helped get Imus and now he wants to pile on Paris? Shows you something about his character.

There is a fascination with celebrity and money in this country, as most of us believe it translates into happiness but they are not related

How unfashionable it is to come out with compassion for Paris Hilton because she is an heiress/airhead but there is something sick about the fascination of watching her suffer.

Martha Stewart on the other hand is a chicken roasting B-otch.

freddogg

Tough old bastard! A skinnier that a river bed Skelton chain smoking former Vietnam real guy I know was sitting in his hot white van outside the Comcast store in a strip mall the temperature hovered near 95. We are bar buddies back before our bar was torched and the guy is uncannily brilliant about all subjects from sports to politics.

He handed an envelope out the window and asked me to stick it into the Comcast mail slot. I took it and asked no questions then he said,”How do you like my fucking leg?”

I looked inside the van and there was this two pronged metal with shoe at the bottom and plastic up top prosthetic that seem to go all the way into his hip.

‘What asshole stole your leg and left that one,”I asked, and we laughed, easy for me?

I asked if it was injury or diabetes and he said, ”Fucking Agent Orange” started laughing, talked of VA hospital and 15 minute physical therapy sessions,said he had to do his own therapy walking around the trailer park for three straight hours.

‘That suck’s,” I said. “Are you in any pain?”

“I’m in pain all the time but what am I supposed to do, cry about it? Should I get a gun and fucking shoot myself? Fucking Agent Orange, now that’s funny.”

God dam the United States produces some tough people. I was just humbled, rendered speechless and I can’t wait for my bar to be rebuilt so I can resume my lifelong conversation with the real roughnecks of the world.

Freddogg

P.S. Gym people strive to be judged by the cover but the real warriors don't much care about outside appearances.

“You won’t believe what he said to me? Are you ready for this because you are not going to believe it? I called him and asked if he was going to the beach and do you know what he had the nerve to say? You are not going to believe it!”

I couldn’t linger any longer on this eavesdropped overheard cell phone conversation so I just flat out asked the strangely but most assuredly augmented queen of the treadmill “Well what did he say? Because, I have to get inside and work out, they don’t sell parts for a body like this. So what did he say?”

‘Do I know you, ”she asked knowing she didn’t and I didn’t want to know her either but if you're going to intrude with your cell phone drama on passing innocents then at least have the courtesy to move it along.

Last week my wife and I were having dinner when suddenly appeared at the end of our table some loser on his cell phone standing there like he was our waiter. I pointed at him and said, “take your bad hairpiece and Mattie Mattel toy phone and your Captain Midnight decoder ring and get out of here. “

He didn’t even have the manly instinct to know he had just been dressed down he just turned and walked someplace else. The amazing thing is that if he wanted to play with me I would have hoisted him over my head spun him around three times then thrown him to the Mexicans in the kitchen.

If the guy had been NFL felon Tank Johnson of the Chicago Bears would I have acted the same? Damn right I wouldn’t have! I’m not stupid, even retarded animals don’t attack ones they can’t beat.

Freddogg

I may be fat but I’m fit and strong and other people’s fitness levels don’t personally interest me although I wish them the best just don’t bore me with successes or depress me with your failures.
I covered a road race this morning, took pictures, snagged a soft pretzel then I’m just hanging about talking to people which I love to do. Some old dude who always wants to be paid attention to, a Boney Maroni with replacement parts and a couple of cardiac survivals come up to me and I’m thinking “holy shit here we go.”
I shake his hand ask him how he is doing then he pats my belly and says, ”You better watch it.”
I said, “no you better watch it and did you come over to say hello or give me a hard time?”
He is now on automatic defense and no matter how fast his boney ass can run standing still he is no match for me.
He walks away and so do I because I wanted to beat the traffic to WaWa.
A dozen years ago I was in the hospital for a week and home for six after major surgery. I come back to work all under weight and shit and this pompous teacher woman says,”Oh you got a lot grayer since your operation.”
And I said,”Yea and it looks like your butt got bigger! Did they give you a diesel horn with that coffee tankard?”
Of course it was my entire fault for not absorbing and ignoring insulting observations but people take their chances they deserve a smack down! Maybe I saved someone down the line who is less of a good player than me.

Freddoggy

Father Louie was a tough assed Marine who had held the hand of too many dying men in Korea. He was a brawny, commanding personality, very likeable and authentic for a Spiritual person many of whom are transparent mind stalkers.
Father Louie, who was in charge of Vocations at Saint Francis College in Loretto, Pennsylvania, had been sent to Bishop Egan High School to recruit me. He told me the Vocation business was bad that mostly the recruits he landed were little sissy misfits who enjoyed praying seven hours a day.
It was March, our team was heading towards the Palestra and the Catholic League basketball playoffs and for a complete hour of practice Coach John Clark allowed me to sit in a folding chair in the gym talking to Father Louie about going to Saint Francis.
Father Louie was astute and knew enough not to even hint at a marriage between the priesthood and me, as I was most certainly better suited for the gayety of the laity. We talked strictly basketball and I later learned that Coach Clark himself would be the new Saint Francis Coach.
Down in the dungeon locker room after practice point guard Johnny Kerr looked at me and said, ”Well it looks like Fred is going to be a priest.”
Everyone laughed like donkeys on hashish otherwise known as my cousin Janet. I took umbrage to the perceptions of my idiot friends who clearly saw the heathen hidden in me and so I seized an opportunity to turn the picnic table on its edge.
“You think that is funny! What do any of you understand about the spiritual essence of another person? Why don’t you go find Father Louie and laugh in his face while you’re at it?”
No one could ever figure out how a straight “70 is a gift from god” student and relentless smartass who was never seen reading a book came up with words like spiritual essence, in fact, my grandmother believed I was possessed by the ghost of Homer or was that Homo she used to call me?
Everything changed for me those last months of high school. Friends looked upon me somewhat askance which really worried them because they didn’t know what that meant. Priests who had learned to hate me felt that a miracle walked in their midst. I would neither confirm nor deny what anyone thought. I had them all running the hamster wheel of uncertainty.
Father “Tree Trunk” Wildred gave me an authentic teak rosary handcrafted by a Thai teenager and as I walked out of graduation tears filled his eyes because for four years I had tested his faith and patience and now true to his mysterious ways god had chosen me to sail the sea of the celebrants of celibacy.
I didn’t go to Saint Francis but instead accepted a basketball scholarship to Temple University because I thought it was Jewish.

Father Freddogg

I can be a really good player when legalized collectors pursue me for chump change. My position is that just because you say a procedure exceeded by two hundred dollars the amount allowable by Blue Cross so that lancing my infected finger somehow cost the hospital $1400 instead of $1200 dollars doesn’t make it a reality.
And if that extra $200 is to flow into the coffers of the institutionalized medical establishment then your ass is going to earn it ten fold as in fold your hand and get out of my life..
Back before collection laws went into effect there would be a chance that some menacing looking bounty hunter dog looking sociopath would show up on my doorstep and try to intimidate me for the money or tell me the court gave him a piece of paper to enter my domicile and to remove something of like value to be auctioned off.
And there would be a good chance that I would permanently disable him with the help of two angry dogs who would protect to the death their Milk Bone distributor.
These collectors will call you and call you but caller I.D. hurt their chances of making contact. Sometimes I pick up the phone and put it back down again. Other times I speak Spanish or Indigenous Guatemalan Indian or I pick up and I’m already in the middle of a rant so scary as to infer mental illness at the genius level of intelligence and they hang up because somehow they know I know where they live.
Bottom line is “more fun for me” for I am not freely giving up $200 dollars without the corresponding entertainment value of a Broadway show.
And now that the Steaks have been raised like a steer in a hydraulic harness I feel compelled to stay in the game just to see where it ends. I can gracefully accept the reality of a loss but I am such a good player and so intrinsically well adjusted that I will be hard to beat.
I am now waiting for said legal team of Philadelphia lawyers to step up their weak ass game! And if the Sheriff shows up at my door no problem because he is a friend of mine. Don’t mess with the boys!

Freddogg