Freddogg Off The Chain

Is a Chimp a person is the current argument running around Austria attracting the most interest since Julie Andrews sang “The Hills Are Alive” but everyone knows she was tripping?
I love the Great Apes which include Chimps, Gorillas, Orangutans and Gibbons. Apes have no tails and tell no tales out of school, in fact, they don’t go to school at all.
You can tell apes are relative to humans stupid just by looking at them. See the heavy brow region called the superciliary ridge and the slope of the front of the skull. That is natures ‘stupid’ sign no room for cerebral cortex and abstract thought. All that gymnastic stuff the apes can do is controlled by the back of the head.
Here are words of advice: Don’t prejudge actual humans by the shapes of their skulls because you will find it to be uncannily accurate because if we are related to Chimps in a kissing cousin sort of way those recessive genes will pop out like they did along a dead branch of human evolution introduced in my family by an Orangutan from Fish town Philly other known as Uncle Harry.
You know the only requirement for animals to be considered members of the same species is intra-fertility which in the case of the ape/human split is the result of very few field trials mainly because of the violence associated with foreplay.
If the animal rights people in Austria want a 26 year old male chimp named Matt to be declared a “legal person” than some tree hugger needs to hug Matt’s log and have his baby.
Here’s an addendum to this science abstract: The most intelligent of the Apes is the Orangutan but he won’t play at our stupid human tricks because his ass is by nature lazy. Orangutans remain my favorite animals on the planet.

Professor Freddogg

BOCHUM, Germany, Sept. 24 -- Acupuncture offers an effective alternative to conventional therapy for low-back pain, investigators here reported. However, sham acupuncture worked just as well as verum, or true, acupuncture, they reported.


Ask any drummer if you want to get a lazy assed passive and depressed crowd up and onto the dance floor just scream into the microphone “Uno! Dos! One! Two! Tres! Quatro!” And all the Wholly Bullies will come on up outta there. Sam The Sham is my dog "Little Red Riding Hood you sure are looking good.”

Sham acupuncture works as well as “verum true dat” acupuncture, in other words, “stick some needles into my lower back bitch and I’ll immediately begin to feel better about myself.”

I know now by way of revelation that I must open up an Office “Fredman Sham Psychiatrist.” I may not know what I’m talking about but no one else does either.

Patient Therapy One

‘Fredman I’m depressed.”

“I can see why. How long have you had that wart on the end of your nose?”

“That’s not what I’m depressed about?”

“Really? That would bug the shit out of me.”

‘My husband doesn’t find me attractive anymore.”

“And what does his tractor head look like?”

“He’s dumpy dough boy looking, drinks and chews tobacco.”

“Well then it can’t be a good feeling when he goes into rut every fall, now can it?”

Patient Two:

“Fredman do you think unrealistic goals and over inflated self image is pathological if the person is aware they are tripping? You know walking around in a waking fantasy word”?

‘No. not at all, most of our personal trip odometers are 50 percent of our total mileage.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, I’m Sham Psychiatrist, remember?”

And now for a limited time an online special. “Write to Fredman The Sham Psychiatrist online and like a battery free of charge I will post a therapeutic strategy to help you get well-or not.

"Hello Stranger! Here's my story it's said but true it's about a gal that I once knew."

"Did she take your love and run around with every single guy in town?"

"Yep! Yep! Humdey day de dah de dah dey Yep Yep"

"Better listen what I'm telling you- Stay away from "Run Around Psuedo."

I am a liberal Law and Order advocate and don’t usually come down on the side of police power. But this unrelenting showing and crying over the campus police “Taser Hot Shotting” of a University of Florida student who interrupted a John Kerry speech with a speech of his own has turned me hawkish.
The lesson: All rights are relative and sometimes conflicting in other words” sit down and shut up, no one came here to listen to your dumb ass!”
I’d like to Taser that spoiled bitch myself, the goofy muffler. And that boy was big and young and crazy stupid and he had been warned and anyway Tasers are fun-legalized joy buzzers for cops-and the discomfort only temporary and now what do we have, political activism on the Gator campus? That will only last until the next home football game and all day Saturday drunk.
If I were a cop I’d Taser every smart aleck who talked back to me then deny I did it. Every teacher in an urban high school should have one” would you like an In School Suspension and miss the game or a quick Taser shot for being late? “I’ll take the Taser!”
“Not in the groin Bitch!”
How about long distance laser Tasers that’s what I’m talking about.
“That coach doesn’t play the right people my daughter should be starting!”
“Yikes! I think I just had a hot flash!”

“He died on the road. He was just a poor boy a long way from home. He was a friend of mine.
When I think about it I still can’t keep from crying. He was a friend of mine.” Jerry Jeff Walker


Operation Desert Storm began in January of 1991 when the United States commenced to bomb Baghdad on the holiday of Martin Luther King. Sixty Cape high school students had protested the day before and on “War Commencement to Liberate Kuwait Day” –a full school day-these students were lock downed inside In- School Suspension for their unauthorized demonstration. This was the day CNN was born and inside the school library televisions were fixed to this news station to help students alleviate their anxieties about living inside a nation at war. But when the librarian left for coffee students quickly changed the channel to The Brady Bunch and began petting each other. Such is the world of global awareness for most high school students.
I was teaching several Problems of Democracy classes that school year and my classes always began with a discussion of four current events I had written on the board. I can go head to head with the best extemporaneous speakers on the planet having once done 50 entertaining minutes on a Clark Bar wrapper just to prove I could do it. Show me a veteran teacher talking to students off a detailed lesson plan and I’ll show you 20 teenage boys having sexual fantasies of Florence Henderson.
I saw a headline in the Philadelphia Inquirer “First Philadelphia Area solider dies in Desert Storm.” The date was February 18. I wrote the headline on the board, bracketed the first three paragraphs, and went for morning coffee.
Back in the classroom I read the first paragraph. The story was somber and I was in a good mood but read the news respectfully. Dr. Major John Gillespie, 34, of Yeadon, PA was killed on February 17 in Saudi Arabia when his Jeep flipped over. That is as far as I got. I stood alone in my history. I was on total disconnect. The faces of 1991 Cape students became a frozen watercolor. I was adrenaline alerted, processing every stimuli and hearing every sound, but I was out of body in a different place.
I was in 1974 coaching football and track at the Mitchell School in Haverford, Pennsylvania. Mitchell was on the Philadelphia Main Line, a beautiful campus--converted mansion and grounds. Some students were College prep while most were classified as “Emotionally Disturbed” but actually weren’t; it was a ruse to get state funding. John Gillespie was a defensive end and shot putter. He was one of my guys. Gillespie became a doctor and Gillespie was gone.
Gillespie talked like a doctor writes prescriptions except for his liberal use of the MF phraseology, which always sounded like “muffler.” John was mentally quick as a cat, his writings were indiscernible, and his language delivery made you laugh even though most “mufflers” had no idea what he was talking about.
I always use John as an example of my own ineptness in coaching the weight events in track. I started his senior season with his throwing 48 feet in the shot put, and by the end of the season county meet I had him down to 41”6”. “That muffler don’t know nothin’ bout coaching no muffler shot put,” Gillespie said, shaking his head.
John was a defensive end on my crazy team that played behind warlike face paint. We destroyed most people; we played and had a great blend of colors, languages and talent.
During an afternoon game at Pennington Prep with no scoreboard, I yelled for John to “get the time” from the referee as halftime was near and pugnacious Pennington was on a touchdown drive. I saw Gillespie talking to the official and quickly a yellow flag came out of his pocket.
Gillespie jogged to me first. “It’s twenty after muffler two,” he said.
And then the ref: ”Your kid asked me ‘what muffler time is it and so I had to flag him for his language.’”
“Did you really tell him it was twenty after two? ”I asked. “Because that’s muffler ridiculous!” Pennington scored thanks to a 30 yard muffler penalty 25 yards from our endzone.
I left John in 1974 and remember asking him what he wanted to do with his life. “I want to be a muffler doctor,” he said.
And the muffler man made it and I never thought he couldn’t. I just stared at him shaking my head up and down. John became an anesthesiologist, a muffler hard word to spell and harder word to pronounce. John’s name is on the wall of Gulf War Veterans Memorial beneath the inscription “Some Gave All-All Gave Some”
An annual award is given in John Gillespie’s name recently received by a pair of captains in Pediatrics and Internal Medicine.
“The Maj. John H. Gillespie Award for outstanding intern went to Capt. Karla Adams, WHMC Pediatrics; and Capt. Ryan Haney, BAMC Internal Medicine. The award is named in honor of Major Gillespie, a BAMC anesthesiologist, who was killed in Saudi Arabia during Operation Desert Storm, and recognizes excellence in medical knowledge, clinical judgment and medical ethics.”
Dr. Major John Gillespie was a friend of mine and friend to many. “What muffler time is it?”

No Child Left Behind is a Game Boy approach to “leveling up” academic achievement but like a Detecto at the hoagie shop it is a sliding scale. The precious and precocious isolated inside their honors and advanced placement classes are sprinting to maintain privilege. America is an elitist society but the good news is you can’t buy your way in or even earn your way. It is already too late. Legacy is not a Subaru but rather riding on the coattails of great granddaddy. “You ain’t got the name you ain’t in the game’!
All kids need adversity in their lives, to learn to take responsibility and to not blame test scores or losses in a sport on the closest adult who is not meeting their needs. Sometimes your ass just gets beat-or beaten-so shut up about it.
I have always been a reverse snob. I love smart people but can’t stand anyone who identifies themselves as advanced or honorable. And now this has crept into youth and high school sports. Getting stomped, waxed, housed and humbled happens to all athletes.
I played in a summer league basketball game in Philly where some old fat black guys hung 105 on us and a local grocer went baseline by me then threw a two handed reverse slam in my face saying,” You’re an All Catholic player but not today young man, not today. Today is my day!”
“Good as anyone better than no one,”my grandmother used to say. “Get out there and play hard and if that's not good enough don't cry about it!”

A split second away from incarceration and community ridicule my life as a funny man surely over but my body was tensed and muscles pumped adrenaline surging.
I only wanted to get my dogs wet, just for a second. I pulled into an upscale bay front community that had public access signs because these millionaires with second homes on the waterfront don’t own the beach they just think they do.
My wife and I along with Jesse and Darby dogs were at the waters edge. There was a posted sign on all Lewes beaches with all the don’ts which included “no dogs until after September 30. “
I sensed a white lady broken loose for the Casper tribe heading down to lecture me. And then a voice from behind, ”Can’t you read the sign it says no dogs?”
I looked up to see this older man-big enough- with jug head started to tell me about “the law.”
I asked him,” where did You come from? I’ve been here 30 seconds.” He said,” I followed you in.”
I used to tell my students never mess with a person when they’re at their home, with their family, or with their dog. Because they will most certainly break bad and consider killing you.”
This guy had a retired Trooper plate on the front of his Dodge 2500 and a big American flag decal on the back.
I was of course in violation of a city ordinance but so is throwing a Frisbee during peak hours.
I corralled the dogs to put back in the car and stopped in front of this man and said, ”You need to get a fucking life because you ain’t nothing but a big fucking loser boy!”
And then I waited. I felt juiced on Roids, my big body was all steel come to life. I have to learn to bring homicidal rage to my workouts.
If I had succeeded in provoking this idiot I was willing to snag him in the power German headlock, and then take him to the sand for a five point move. Then there would be the predictable begging “let me go” and a crowd would gather and I would be satisfied to say nothing of under arrest.
I still get mad when I think about it because I would never in a million years bother some big dude with his wife and two dogs I wouldn’t care if they were camping on my front lawn.
Where do these deputy dogs come from?

Freddogg

I have a good friend who is a former Mr.Maryland a football coach and athlete and a lifelong personal trainer with a much better attitude than me when people are looking at him. I am his mentor in journalism and today I looked at his column “Try 10 tips to help lose body fat” and I thought I’d share my own list

Try 10 tips to lower cholesterol.

1. Eat bigger hotdogs and lots of them I recommend Omaha Steaks because they arrive in dry ice which is all the way cool.
2. Ranch dip with Trisketts throw away the lid and stop kidding yourself.
3. A dozen deviled eggs whipped to death laden with mayo and Dijon mustard.
4. Cookie Dough or cake batter real ice cream multiple dishes late at night.
5. A block of sharp white Kraft Cheese melted on a sleeve of saltines slathered with salsa and chased by three beers and a triple shot of Jamison’s and diet coke.
6. Extra cheese with extra fistful pizza six piece minimum and a nearby retriver to snag crust out of midair.
7. Italian sub extra meet and cheese skim coat of oil then mayo like drywall paste, cut in six pieces then eat with six smaller meals throughout the day.
8. If you see a bowl of buttered and bubbling crab dip at backyard barbeque just take it right to your truck and eat the entire thing and bring all the shrimp with you.
9. Eat a cheeseburger right off a fat woman’s plate then be prepared to sumo in the above ground pool.
10. Eat a cylinder of liverwurst with a table spoon alternating a package of Vienna fingers.

I have followed this program for years and my cholesterol is 140 and I’m not hypo or hyper anything not type 1 or 2 and I take no prescription medication and I only breath heavy if you don’t have caller I.D.

Trainer Freddogg

Piture one is surfers selling out to chinese now everyone will be a goofy footer

Picture two is pyramid building which may get out of control on elementary school playgrounds.

Remember right to left

The Cape Henlopen School District, though federal Grant money, will now begin to teach Chinese in the elementary schools. That’s fine but the only way to learn a language is to be dropped inside a culture that only speaks that language with no access to hometown homies. The classroom bullshit is good for counting and days of the week but if you want to learn Spanish get a laborer’s job with a landscape company.

A sent home letter to down home parents selling Chinese as “a great idea” claimed that studies proved learning Chinese improved students math scores. I hit the floor on that one but it had just been waxed and I was wearing black socks. I guess if I learn to bark I will also enhance my sense of smell?

I know that those abacus Chinese Checkers inventors are better at math than English speaking Americans and learning their language is such a backwards challenge with those precisely drawn characters that anyone who could do it would be good at math in the first place.

I want to meet one dumb assed Chinese person because they all can’t be brilliant SAT takers getting perfect scores. I do know that any exchange student or student on summer Visa I’ve ever meet has been flabbergasted at the percentage of clueless Americans who give a really good first and lasting impression of being all the time real stupid.

I love this country because most people speak English poorly, overeat at all hours of the day, can’t find West Virginia on a wall map, can’t name the representatives from their own state and will quickly vote yes to go out a smart bomb any country talking smack at our expense.

It must actually work because look at us then look at them.

How many military Jet flyovers will kick off NFL games this season? Flying over drunks attending games where admission is changed by a private corporation. Do we Americans know the why and how behind all that? We don’t care.

Let’s play football and talk much noise and prove we can spell EAGLES!

freddogg

I am a leg man. No I don’t mean when I look at women I look at legs or when I order chicken I defer to legs I mean I Am A Leg Man and always have been.

Put the pin in the bottom of the stack on the quad extension machine and I will push up 240 pounds all day long and the same for the 300 mark on the calf riser. But lately my feet have been talking back to me and who needs to go through the day with feet awareness?

I have also been wearing white athletic socks around the clock-I said clock- since the fourth grade. But as you get older God in his compassionate wisdom begins to attack long term survivors with a bevy of maladies I can only deduce provides great heavenly entertainment for saints with flat screens.

I am being attacked by my socks. There are constricting blood flow to my feet and some people may say-“well asshole your socks are too tight”- but they were never too tight before? I rip off my socks and there is this indentation circle which I fondle in bewilderment before putting my feet on the coffee table and wiggling them-toes too-for 15 minutes, my wife doing her best to hide her annoyance moving rapidly towards destination disgust.
And whoever invented those socks that just wrap around your heel was a freaking idiot but now I have several pair which I usually rip to shreds pulling them around my heel because in Indonesian sweat sock shops there is no concept of the 13 quad E foot with jagged big toe nail. Represent Yo!

Fred’s Dogs Barking