Is Valentine an Italian Name?

This doesn't have anything to do with anything, but have you noticed that there are a lot of Italians living in the Mayfield Heights area. I just went to the Mayfield High School raffle on Thursday and my God there were Italians everywhere. Most of them were woman and I have to tell you, for those of you who are fond of saying all black people look alike, you try and explain the difference between Italian women. They all have long black hair, olive skin, dark brown eyes, gaudy jewelry, fake nails, one eyebrow, a faint to full mustache, and a first name that ends with the letter A. They are all married to, or were married to a contractor, and are, or were hairdressers. The only difference I could tell between these women was the size of their asses; which ranged from bony, to big, to holy shit that poor frigging chair. I'm not one to stereotype, but it sure felt like I was in an episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey.  The good news is St. Patrick's Day is right around the corner, so I will be back in my normal environment, and will spend the day drinking green beer with a bunch of fellow little dick Irishmen. 

A typical Mayfield Heights gathering with Tina, Dena, Marina, and Gina

Well here’s another update in the lives of our corrupt county officials. Our county weights and measures specialist Andy Mellen made another scheduled visit to the Appalachian foothills to visit his buddies Jimmy Dimora and Frank Russo. This time he had an opportunity to see both of them in action as the two former county big wigs co-chaired the annual Inmate Valentine’s Day Party. There usually isn’t much romance going on in the all-male federal penitentiary, but with Russo and Dimora in charge, the sparks were flying. By the time the convicts had finished all the cake and ice cream, there were plenty of love connections made behind the barbed wire fence. Patty Stanger, the Millionaire Matchmaker, better watch out, because when these two cupids draw back their bows no one knows what will develop.

Jimmy Dimora (left) had to make his own outfit. 

Frank Russo (right) brought his with him when he checked into the place.

I ran into an old friend of mine last week, John Zappola. I always liked John because he’s a very entertaining and engaging guy. We used to coach football together 30 years ago, and John always struck me as a great teacher.  The kids always paid close attention to his instructions and the way he would explain things made it easy for the kids to pick up and understand. I asked John why he never became a school teacher, clearly he would have been good at it, and as I remember that’s what he said he wanted to do. He never really answered the question; in fact, he seemed to dodge it altogether. Not being the kind of person to pry, I let it go. But the way he evaded the question kind of bugged me, so I did a little digging.  And as it turns out, John did do a stint as a substitute teacher years ago.

The principal convinced John that maybe it 

wasn’t the best idea for him to be around teenage boys all day.

Is it just me, or do Terry and Sue Wise of Bump My Balls, bitch a lot? It seems that every time I get to bocce, someone named Wise is complaining about something. “How come the bocce balls haven’t been set out yet; why isn’t the waitress here right now; why isn’t the TV on the right channel; how come there’s no music,” it’s always something with those two. I don’t know how their teammates, Jeff and Mares Pokorny, put up with them. If the Pokorny’s knew how Terry and Sue trash talk and lambast them while they’re not around, I’d safely say that they would quit on the spot.  After being in leagues with the Wise’s for the last decade, I suppose I’ve grown to tolerate all of their whining, but what really irritates me about these two is that, without fail, they will show up at bocce and immediately ask me “what court are we on and whom do we play.”  Every damn week I send out a schedule with that information, and every damn week, they don’t read it. Man, am I getting tired of being their butler.

After the lovely Mrs. Lynch read the above description of the Wise’s, she demanded that I say something nice about both of them, so here goes.

Sue Wise is better looking now then she used to be.

Mind you, I never said she was a lot better looking.

And isn’t it nice that Terry looking so fit these days.

Random Photo Opportunity

Melissa Himmel preparing to sniff her fingers.

Melissa Himmel preparing to sniff her fingers, again.

Smell You Later,

Marty Lynch

The Court Marshal

Lord Have Mercy

I have been spending more time on facebook lately, and some things have me quite a bit confused. First there is this facebook movie that everyone has been posting this week. Because I thought it was the right thing to do, I’ve watched just about every one of those 1 minute and 2 second movies that my FB friends have posted. Afterwards I click the “like” button; but I must admit, some of them I didn’t really like, I was just being nice and didn’t want those people to feel like losers. Then I started thinking, if I’m going to hit the like button anyhow, do I even have to watch it? I could have saved myself hours if I just skipped the movie and hit the like button and moved on. The only thing I have learned from watching all of those movies is that people have gotten older, fatter, and balder since they joined facebook.

Then there is the question of do I hit the like button when people post photos and stories about their children. Do I really “like” the fact that the 5^th grade St. Clare girl’s basketball team beat St. Pascal’s 7-4? Should I “like” the picture of your son Billy and his date for the Mayfield prom? What if they had a button that said “amazed.” As in, I’m amazed your goofy looking son Billy was able to find a date for the prom. The worst dilemma I have concerns the mom’s that post pictures of their beauty pageant daughter’s, or their gymnast daughter's, or their dancer daughter’s, in sort of skimpy outfits. I recognize your proud of your daughter’s and I can appreciate that, and I’d love to be supportive, and in fact, I am from afar, but I’m a little concerned that if I hit the like button, that will immediately put me on some kind of pedophile watch list. I damn sure don’t need the 19 Action News truck pulling up my driveway with Carl Monday jumping out to do a report on local predators and my picture being plastered all over town.  I don't think I'm done discussing this social media stuff just yet, but I’m done for now. Stay tuned.

A few weeks ago, my team, Boccelism played Denine and John Consolo’s team. At that time, their team was known as The Squirmy Bastards.  My wife had never met them before and said she thought Denine was a real nice person, despite the fact that she dropped the F-Bomb about fifty times, and played with her boobs all night. She wasn’t so sure about John though; she had a little trouble assessing him, she typically gives people the benefit of the doubt, but in the end, she concluded that the guy is a hot dog. Our teammate, Sherry Tighe was able to offer a little insight into why John thinks he’s all that. It turns out that John was a complete and total dork in high school and was picked on and laughed at by boys and girls alike. Apparently John scrimped and saved until he had enough money to get himself a complete makeover. Now, after his $130,000 investment in himself and his wardrobe, he thinks he can leave his past behind.

John Consolo’s high school photo (left) and his bocce mug shot (right). 

Quite frankly, I don’t see any real improvement.

Linda Richuisa was confiding in me that her husband Mike hasn’t been showing as much “interest” in her as of late. So, as a way to get things heated up, she decided that she would go to one of those glamour photo places and take a few risky pictures of herself and slip them into her husband’s lunch bag. She went on to tell me that even after doing that, things got no better, and in fact, got worse. I had trouble explaining how that could have made things worse, because I know if the lovely Mrs. Lynch did something like that, I would definitely be “interested.”

Very glamorous Linda, I simply can’t explain why 

Mike wouldn’t want to race home and pound that.

I saw Frank Vicchiarelli at the Highlander last month and he told me he wanted to be in the blog. I must say, I was caught off guard because no one has ever said that to me before. He went so far as to tell me that he didn’t care what I said or did, he just wanted some ink.  I told him, as gently as I could, that no one wanted to see him in the blog, quite simply, no one cared about him and it would be a significant waste of my time and probably result in dissatisfied readers. He proceeded to buy me several drinks, and I mean several, and believe it or not, I had a change of heart.  I realized at that moment that I probably wouldn’t let someone buy their way out of being in the blog, but apparently I’m fine with someone buying their way in.

Frank is a butt head, and since she married him, his wife must be a butt head too. 

Meet the Vicchiarelli’s.

My wife and I were recently talking about all the things we would do if we won the lottery. She talked about remodeling the kitchen, the bathrooms, the basement, putting an addition on the house, building a deck and patio in the back yard. She went on and on. Then she asked me, doesn’t that sound great? To which I quickly replied, not if I still have to live next door to Chip Tighe. She called me a stick in the mud, and blamed my shitty attitude and negative energy as the reasons why we’ve never won the lottery. Then she asked me, don’t you have dreams? Haven’t you ever had dreams? Even as a kid? You must have had dreams as a kid. To which I adamantly replied, no. After she walked out of the room in disgust, I began to think back to the days of my youth, and then it dawned on me, I did have a dream.

This is what Sr. Mary Louise looked like 

when I dreamt of nailing her.

This is what Sr. Mary Louise would have looked like 

if my dreams came true.

Random Photo Opportunity

Has everyone had a chance to meet Hugh Daily of Compares? 

That’s right, his name is Hugh, not Huge.

Please God, have a sense of humor

Marty Lynch

The Court Marshal

True Confessions

Before I forget, The Squirmy Bastards are once again The Squiggles.  D9 Consolo was able to rally her troops and get enough votes to reclaim their team name. So, this gives Ole Martin V an opportunity to prove to one and all that he is a man of his word.  End of story. Therefore, please help me welcome back the team with the most ridiculous name in the league, The Squiggles.

Moving on, we are now three weeks into the Martin V. Diet and there have been quite a few success stories. But no one really cares to hear about those, so lets focus on some failure.  First, let me start by saying this; the lovely Mrs. Lynch doesn't want anyone to feel bad for being unsuccessful on their diet. She was adamant when she told me that I would be cut off from her sweet nectar of love if she found out that this diet thing caused anyone to feel bad about themselves. So, to make sure that everyone can point to the list and say, at least I'm not doing as bad as so and so, I have gone out of my way to make sure that I put on some pounds during these past few weeks. Basically what I’m saying is, I’m taking one for the team, or league, as it were, and I have decided that I will be that so and so guy. Clearly that excuses me from any weight gain ridicule, and in fact, is probably cause for me to be celebrated.  What it doesn't do is excuse the likes of Denise DiVita for laying around on her ass for the last 21 days sucking down as many pork link sausages and buttermilk pancakes as humanly possible.  Look chick, you’re on a diet, you're not supposed to gain weight, push the frigging plate away. And for God's sake have the decency to be ashamed of yourself. And most importantly, be thankful I didn't have time to post a photo of you.

By the way, that's me, preparing to woo the lovely Mrs. Lynch 
in to dishing out some of that sweet nectar of love.

I have a confession to make, well; I should say I have a confession to make for someone else.  I was at the Highlander with a bunch of bocce people a few weekend’s ago when Michelle Davis told me about the diet she was employing to try to loose weight.  It entails her taking laxatives everyday, and if laxatives are doing their job, it may result in the need for some untimely, and somewhat uncontrollable rectal releases. Anyhow, after she finished her ninth vodka drink she felt compelled to open up to me and tell me of a little incident that happened at Freeway Lanes earlier that night. Maybe it’s because I’m a good listener, or maybe it’s just that people can sense that I truly care about them, that causes them to open up to me. Regardless, Michelle confided in me that it was her who went to the ladies room at Freeway Lanes earlier that night and proceeded to blow the doors off the hinges.  She said she wasn’t really embarrassed about the smell she left behind, but felt bad for the person who was going to have to wipe down, or maybe chisel off, the explosion she pinned up against the back wall of the toilet.

Michelle’s bathroom exploits are so legendary that Hasbro modeled a doll after her.

Andy Mellen of Bloated has fluctuated in weight for the last several years, and apparently this year is no different. Andy was hoping to commit himself to the Martin V. Diet, but it just hasn't worked out for him yet. Andy tried to explain to me that his 2 pound weight gain is the result of muscle that he has added to his frame. And he claims that the added weight is being much more evenly distributed over his entire body, and that alone has him in a good mood.  Plus, Andy did proudly mention to me that his new look has his wife Edie giving him the lusty eye as of late.

Call me crazy, but I definitely think Andy is thinner in the face.

I was at bocce last night, minding my own business, when Mike Richuisa of Mission Imbocceball said he needed to talk to me about something. Being ever so gracious, I gave him my undivided attention. It was at this time that Mike thought it would be a good idea for him to tell me everything that is wrong with my blog, and kindly offered a couple suggestions on what would make it better.  When he was done, I thanked him for his input.

Mike Richuisa back in the day when he was telling his professors what 

was wrong with their lectures, and today, when he’s just being stupid.

Please be advised, I’m eager to hear from the rest of you about your thoughts on what I should do to improve the blog.

Random Photo Opportunity

There goes Linda Carney showing off again.

You're in my thoughts
Marty Lynch
The Court Marshal