All Gut and No Butt

Yo, Yo what up everyone? I’m back in action after taking a few days off last week to do a few family things. These “Family Things” and “Get Togethers” did take me away from my lunch buddy and sometimes stalker “Johnny Wings”, but I think he’s forgiven me knowing I always bring back many stories that we pick apart and thrive on.

As I was saying, the past few days did allow me to "download" a bunch of good material that I can’t wait to pass along so here’s what I’ve been up to….

A few weeks ago I had to buy a new suit for a wedding my wife and I were invited to. So, Thursday I went to pick up my new suit from this local place who did the alterations. The place is run by an older Italian lady who is no more then 5 ft tall, with thick glasses and speaks with a heavy Italian accent. I try on my new suit (it’s a big suit but still looks good) while my little Italian friend is now standing behind me as I look in the mirror seeing how it all fits. She goes on to tell me in her classic old school Italian voice “I made-a da suit look-a nice-a fa you”, “You like-a?”, “How’za da waist-a fit?”, “I took-a lot off-a da leg cause there was just-a too much-a material”. This is her way of saying in so many words “your all gut and no butt”. After hearing all her wonderful compliments I paid for my alterations and hit the road.

Friday was the wedding. 2^nd wedding we had to go to in the past 2 months. Wearing my new suit (again, it’s a big suit) along with having to shell out yet another “envelope” or as it’s said in Italian slang “ah-BOOST” (aka cash gift). The DJ played a lot of good dance music so I decided to hit da dance floor to display my Travolta moves. My moves are a constant head bop, fingers snap, a quick leg move and a clap. Throw in an occasional fist pump in the air and I look like I’m a regular at the club “Karma” down the Jersey Shore. After hearing Maroon 5 “Moves Like Jaggar” and Alexandra Stan “Mr. Saxo Beat” I felt like I was 25 again (with a full head of hair of course) and was ready to audition for MTV’s next casting call. I walked off the dance floor all confident like I killed it, and back to my seat to indulge in whatever the next food course was waiting for me.

Saturday was my son’s last soccer game for the year. The usual crew of parents showed up. These are the same people whose husbands walk over to the side lines and have to let everyone know within a 25 mile radius know that they have arrived. When this happens I go right to my cell phone and call anyone who’ll answer my call (even a cousin I have not spoken to in years) just to make this jerk feel like I could care less he showed up and to not have to hear his annoying tone.

Then you have the one’s who bring an apple to eat while they are watching the kids play soccer. I really want to say “listen buddy, I really don’t want to hear you crunch on that thing for the next 2 mins”. The games are barely an hour; you couldn’t wait until afterwards or bring an egg sandwich for God sake.

Anyway the rest of the weekend was spent getting my fantasy football team ready and eating like I was going to the electric chair.  

Look for John and I to give a full report on our next day back to lunch together.

Pet peeve of the week: Being on line at the store (Let’s say Starbucks for example) and the person in front of you steps up to the counter and goes “Yeah, let me get a Venti ………” when I hear “let me get” I want to walk off the line, leave the store, get in my car and never come back again. But my tough guy side wants to say “Is that how you ask for something?” “Let me get?” are you kidding me or what? Ughhh, Getting worked up just writing that whole scenario.

Later Peeps.

Matt