Oy Vey

I have some rather startling news to report.  My wife and I recently took part in the program that is capable of doing a DNA search for your ancestry.  The program is called 23 and Me. I’m sure some of you have heard of it, in fact, I know that some of you have even participated yourselves. All the program requires you to do is to take a saliva sample, put it in a jar, and send it back to the company.  From that, they are able to determine your family origins. Both the lovely Mrs. Lynch and I have proudly worn our Irish heritage since our childhood. But in our twilight years, it appears as though the Lynch’s are going to have to embrace their inner Jew.  You read that correctly, Suzanne and I are a couple of Hebrews.

I must say, news like this can shake up an entire family.  Believe it or not some individuals in our families are still adjusting to being members of the tribe.  My wife’s sister Ann, who lives in Atlanta, is keeping the news on the down low amongst her waspy socialite country club crowd.  Ann’s response shouldn’t really surprise me, after all, the former My Bowling League star, Mike Hirsch tried to date Ann in high school but she shot him down solely because of his close Rabbi connections.

My sister-in-law Ann (left) Mike Hirsch (right) 

and what could have been their son Abraham (center)

If I had known that I was Jewish sooner I could have made something out of myself. Perhaps I could have been a doctor, a lawyer, or a movie producer. Who knows, maybe a banker, a jeweler, or a kosher deli owner.  Or, God forbid, on the other hand, I could have wound up like Mike Hirsch; a whiney, miserable commercial real estate broker who sells one piece of property every nine years. 

But instead, I have taken a different path.  I have chosen the role of a public servant; a government employee; a man whose livelihood is paid for fully by you the unsuspecting taxpayer. And I want you all to know that I haven’t let you down.  On the days I do show up for work, I always strive to give at least 30% effort, and I have never used more than the three weeks of sick time allotted to me every year. Plus, I only take eleven paid holidays off annually. The three weeks vacation are more than enough when you consider I will likely end the year with an additional six weeks of comp time to use. So, as you can probably tell, this does allow me to have some time on my hands; time, which I might point out, provides me ample opportunity to blog. Moral of the story, if I knew I was a Jew when I was born, I’d be busy writing prescriptions, not writing a blog. And aside from the lovely Mrs. Lynchbergsteinblatt, who amongst us would want that.

This is also hitting home on my side of the family.  My now Israelite sister Beth and her husband Henry did the 23 and Me testing as well, and now both of them are reassessing whether or not they can continue to co-exist in the same house without fearing for their safety. It turns out that the two of them hail from warring nations.  I had my suspicions about Henry long ago but no one wanted to believe me.

My brother-in-law Henry claimed he was Italian. Now that he’s a confirmed Iraqi, 

I can only hope he doesn’t lop my sister’s non-burka wearing head off.

Random Photo Opportunity

Condoleezza Rice testifying before congress, under sworn oath, on the actual 

elongated size of Nick Longo's, err, correction Dick Dongo’s private parts.

Hillary Clinton concurring that our pal should now be 

officially referred to as Little Dick Dongo.

Shabbat Shalom

Maury Lynchbergsteinblatt

The Court Marshal

A Few Snippets

Yesterday, the lovely Mrs. Lynch and I had an opportunity to stop in to see the new bocce parents, Yolonda and Andrew Ryzner, and their new bundle of joy Madison Leslie.  The girl is just beautiful, and I must say, that surprises me. I have to tell you, I was really expecting an ugly Andrew looking kid. But fortunately Madison will not have to go through life looking like a splotchy sun burnt albino like her dad does. Look, I’m not trying to imply that Andrew’s not the father; I’m just implying that he doesn't look like he's the father, so, he’s probably not the father.

Our new mom Yolonda above, said she wants eight kids; 

be careful Octolonda, that shit don’t go away on it’s own.

I have to share a rather frightening experience I had not long ago. I was up at the La Fiesta with a small group of people and we ran into a big cast of Team Hate members. I chatted it up with one of their sisterhood, Dawn Rossi, who was sucking down a margarita looking drink while continuously posting shit on Facebook and Instagram. At some point in time Dawn abruptly decided our conversation was over and she got up, left my table, and returned to her group of happily or soon to be happily divorced gal pals. After the entire group of ladies had departed, I realized that Dawn left the bar without her coat. So, being the kind fella that we all know me to be, I decided that I would get up first thing in the morning and swing by Dawn’s house and drop it off, and perhaps, just maybe, get a peek of her in a slinky little nightie.

Now we all know Dawn to be a very attractive woman at 7pm on Saturday night, after she has had all day to get herself dolled up.  But I must tell you, at 7am on a Sunday morning, before she has had a chance to put her makeup on, Dawn isn’t likely to get a guys wood to twitch. In fact, I believe her mug would most definitely qualify as an immediate boner suppressant.

At 7pm (left) Dawn got my eyes to pop out of my head. 

At 7am (right) Dawn got me to wishing I could rip my eyes out of my head.

Dale Politi sent me an email asking why his team, Sonofa Bocce, who had a better won/loss record than any other team in their division, was in second place behind Long Balls who have fewer wins than Dale’s team.  Now I’m sure Dale received the league rules, just like everybody else did.  And had Dale read those rules he would have been intimately aware of how points are awarded and how placements are made. But apparently Dale chose not to read them, and instead, he decided he would prefer to waste my valuable time.  Time, that I might point out, I could be using to blog about what a dickhead Dale is.

Even the kids at the beach think Dale is a dick.

Random Photo Opportunity

I'm thinking about doing this more often. All it is, is a photo that I get to write a caption for. Sounds right up my alley.

When did Scott Mills grow a beard?

See you next time
Marty Lynch
The Court Marshal

Members Only, Past and Present

We have a couple housekeeping items to quickly cover. First on the upper right side of this page is a poll that I would like all of the readers to vote on.  If you recall, I changed The Squiggles name to The Squirmy Bastards earlier in the year.  They have requested to have their name changed back to The Squiggles.  Being a fair and open-minded guy, I decided to let the people decide.  You do not need to be a member of My Bocce League to vote, so please do me a favor and take a moment to cast your ballot.

Second, beneath the poll is The Weight Room that shows each dieter’s success or failure in their attempt to shed weight. As you can see, only a couple of women gained weight this week; Yolonda the pregnant girl, and Denise DiVita, the Bon-Bon eating girl.

Cristen Kane, of Mission Imbocceball, showed up to bocce ready and willing to jump on the scale for her second weigh in; but unfortunately she was not happy with the results. She had a pretty sad face on when she asked me if it would be okay if she took off her shoes and weighed in again.  Being the kind of guy who is looking for people to be successful, I quickly told her that it would be fine.  She got back on the scale, but she still was not thrilled with the result. She then made yet another request. This time she asked if it would be okay to take off her socks; after all she said, these are those really fluffy socks that are almost like slippers they’re so big.  Looking back, I wish I had said no…

Cristen’s feet clearly explain why the best mate she could land was Brian Kane.

Not everyone participated in the Martin V Diet, and that’s okay with me.  Plus, you have to remember that many people in our league are already the epitome of physical fitness.

Dave Miller of Bloated didn’t need to sign up for the Martin V Diet 

because he already looks great in a bathing suit.

I usually go on facebook every day or two and catch up on what’s happening in the lives of friends. Lately I have been seeing posts from some former My Bowling League members, Tina Brown, Dee Dee Bondra, and Linda Hirsch raving about this place called The Title Boxing Club.  Maybe I’m just a little shallow but I figured these ladies were just looking for a place to go to meet young guys. Anyhow, I called Tina and asked her if she would show me around the club.  After a tour of the place, which I must say, was impressive and appears to be on the cutting edge of physical fitness, I have come to the conclusion that these three chickies are serious about this boxing stuff, and apparently the last thing on their minds is picking up young guys.

Tina Brown used to be able to give guys an erection. Now that she goes to The Title Boxing Club, 

not even a horny teenage boy on Viagra could pop a boner with her in the room.

That goes double for Dee Dee Bondra.

Linda Hirsch, on the other hand, has no trouble picking up young boys.

It looks like it's time for me to just beat it!
Marty Lynch
The Court Marshal

Time to scale things back

As discussed in the previous blog, I showed up to bocce with a scale in my hand and a song in my heart. Twenty-three individuals chose to participate in the Martin V Diet.  Those brave and committed individuals are well on their way to shedding the excess body fat that they didn’t know existed until I was kind enough to point it out to them. You will be able to follow everyone’s success by reviewing the diet progress page, entitled "The Weight Room" located on the right hand side of this blog.  As promised, I will do my part to assist everyone by attempting to make people accountable; how I go about that remains to be seen, but has the potential to fall on the tough love side of the ledger. Having said that, please know that I will never reveal anyones actual weight, come on, even I know when there are lines that can't be crossed.

One thing I can reveal is that the Lovely Mrs. Lynch and I don't have as open and honest a relationship as I once believed.  It turns out that Suzanne has been telling me she has been a certain weight for the past five years; but lo and behold, the weight she has been telling me, and the weight that appeared on the scale, weren't anywhere close to each other. So, unless those pretty earrings she had on weigh 26 pounds, I'm going to have to assume she's been lying to me. Anyhow, stay tuned for those updates.

A close up of Suzanne's "26 pound earrings"

Moving on, I was playing bocce with Cindy Lembach and Sherry Tighe this past Saturday, and I must say, I didn’t realize how competitive these two women are with each other. Both of them were talking about how many sit ups they can do, and how many miles they can run, and how good their appetizers are, and how well they can bake pies.  Each one was trying to outdo the other.  This situation was getting a little heated so I thought I would try to calm everyone down and put a stop to it by saying “look, you’re both beautiful women and this behavior is not making you ladies look attractive.” That’s when one of them says, “well who do you think is more attractive?” This was not what I planned, but to put an end to this constant one-upmanship, I decided to use a tried and true method of diffusing tense situations, and simply asked each of them to stick out their tongue.

Cindy Lembach went first, and I must say, was very impressive.

Sherry Tighe went second, and I must say, she didn’t give me the same

warm and fuzzy that I got from Cindy.

Suffice to say, going forward, Cindy will be replacing Sherry in our starting rotation. In fact, maybe Sherry can just stay home the rest of the season.

After I settled down from the tongue thing, I was telling a story of how I was watching a cooking show with Paula Dean and Oprah Winfrey over the holiday, when all of a sudden Denine Consolo of The Squirmy Bastards says, that’s my cousin.  Almost simultaneously, Susanna Longo of Long Balls also says, that’s my cousin.  So now I’m thinking that Denine and Susanna must be related somehow.  However, after some further digging I determined that it’s not likely that these two My Bocce League members have any real blood connection.

Paula Dean and Oprah Winfrey whipping up some grits.

Denine and her cousin Paula might just share a similar mindset.

Susanna and her long lost cousin Oprah don’t really see eye to eye these days.

Susan Ferrazza of Ba-Da-Bing Ba-Da-Bump, is this week’s proof that My Bocce League members get better looking with age.

Susan Ferrazza (left) just before she had her first “visitor” and (right) getting ready for her last visitor.

By the way, Karen Politi did show up with a tray of cookies and a couple of lame excuses as to why there was a delay in their arrival.  Nonetheless, all of the bocce members who ate the cookies found them to be quite tasty, well that is, with the lone exception being Carl DiVita, who at his kindest said they were incredibly average and at his most honest, described them as the worst tasting hunk of shit he’s ever made the mistake of biting into.  For the record, I found them to be quite delicious, and disagree whole-heartedly with Carl’s culinary review.

I think Carl is mean because he wasn’t loved as a child, go figure. 
Unlike most My Bocce League members, Carl hasn’t gotten better looking with age.

All of the Ryzner baby squares have been sold and you can review the grid by clicking on the tab located at the top of this page.  We will be using half of the proceeds to purchase a baby gift for Yolonda and Andrew, with the other half of the pot going to the person who is holding the lucky square.  FYI, the due date is January 18, 2014.  Good luck and thank you to all that participated.


Spreading good cheer!
Marty Lynch
The Court Marshal

The Diet Craze.....Solved

My wife was talking to Katy Profeta of Sonofa Bocce about the lastest super easy diet book that allows you to eat as much as you want, not exercise, and still lose 20 pounds in four weeks. Oddly enough, over the holidays I ate as much as I wanted, did not exercise and managed to put on 20 pounds in four weeks.  What I’m saying is that I am living proof that Katy’s miracle diet doesn’t work.  But that didn’t stop the lovely Mrs. Lynch from racing right out and spending $19.95 for the book with all the details on how to wash away the weight.

After a quick perusing of the book, I learned the real secret to the diet’s success; it does claim that you do not have to do any exercising, and it does say that you can eat as much as you want, provided, however, that all you want to eat is celery.  Now call me crazy, but that’s kind of a big omission on Katy’s part.  However, given the fact that Katy’s known to have at least one hair-brained idea every week, this should surprise no one.

Let me assure you, that diet could work, but who wants to eat celery for God’s sake? So, being the noble man that I am, I have decided to offer up my services to any person who would like to lose weight over the next 60 days. We’re going to call it the Martin V Diet, and it’s only for people who are serious about losing weight.

Here is how this simple diet works, I am going to bring a scale to bocce on Saturday and you will weigh in for me. I will record that weight, and then each Saturday for the next 8 weeks you will again weigh in for me.  Sounds like Weight Watchers right? I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel; I’m just trying to get the wheel to spin faster for you.  Here is the difference.   I will post the weekly results of your success or failure on this blog.  Should there be failure on your part, I will attempt to give the reader a logical reason for your struggles.  And by logical I mean whatever comes into my head at that time.

The last thing in the world that I would want is for people to feel left out of this incredibly easy way to lose weight. So, for those of you not in the bocce league, please know that you are also welcome to swing by my house to weigh in on Saturdays.

Now, all of you folks who are going to sign up, and I expect there will be several, I want you to know that I am rooting for you.  The last thing in the world I want to do is point out any shortcomings on your part.  Please know that I don’t want to explain to people that your ideal dinner of Lean Cuisine is really a Lean Cuisine, a LaRich’s meat lover’s pizza, and six cupcakes….but, for your own good, I’m willing to do it.

Together we can get you that look you’ve been looking for, and best of all, it’s free to join!

Katy Profeta after 60 days on the Martin V Diet

Katy Profeta after 60 days of NOT being on the Martin V Diet

Can't weight to see you!
Marty Lynch
The Court Marshal

Out With The Old, In With The New

As we begin the New Year, the Federal Government, while perhaps ill-prepared, has officially rolled out Obamacare.  With that in mind, I’d like to officially roll out my own program.  I’m going to call it O’Marty-don’t-care.  It’s not actually a new program; it’s just a formal acknowledgement of an old policy that has been in place since the days of My Bowling League.  O’Marty-don’t-care is short for several things, including; O’Marty-don’t-care if he tells the exact truth; O’Marty-don’t-care if he hurts your feelings; O’Marty-don’t-care if he posts an embarrassing picture of you; O’Marty-don’t-care if he makes fun of you; O’Marty-don’t-care if you think he’s insensitive; and most importantly, O’Marty-don’t-care to let his wife edit his blog anymore.

With that in mind, I’d like to say that one of the subs on my team, Mike Brown, has some breath that smells like nasty shit.  And by nasty shit, I’m talking nose-in-ass nasty.  When you point it out to him, which I often do, he plays dumb and blames it on the gyro he just burped up; or maybe it was the taco, or the garlic bread he ate.  He always has an excuse, yep; he’s got plenty of excuses.  What it appears he doesn't have plenty of, is toothpaste and mouthwash, either of which would likely solve his problem.  Hopefully, Santa and his elves put some of those things under his tree last week.

Mike Brown getting his annual dental checkup from Dr. DePaul’s assistant, Nada.

Speaking of elves, Mimi Miller of Bloated is the only player in the league that doesn’t have to bend down to pick up the bocce balls.  So, as you can see, there is at least one benefit to being 3’9” tall.

Among her many skills, Mimi can pull weeds faster than anyone I know.

Pete Lamb, of the 1-9 Compares, brought three guys to play bocce with him last time. He figured going stag would give his team an advantage over a co-ed opponent.  As usual, Pete was wrong.  No matter how hard he tries, his team continues to suck.  Pete went so far as to dig under a rock and find Rob O’Brien eating a bag of Cheetos and brought him along.  Hey Pete, FYI, if the rock says “lift to find the most out of shape person on the planet,” might I suggest you look under a different rock.

Rob O’Brien (left) as seen at bocce, and Rob O’Brien (right) as seen at the playground.

Speaking of rock, The Rock-N-Roll Hall of Fame has decided to induct Linda Ronstadt into the Hall this year.  She was the first school boy crush I ever had way back in the third grade.  I just saw a recent photo of her, and I must admit, she’s not exactly how I remember her.

Linda Ronstadt, then and now. She’s not giving me the same boner these days.

As you can see, Linda didn’t age quite as well as she probably would have hoped.  The nice thing about My Bocce League is that all of the members do age very well, as you can see from the example below.

Maddie Klingman (left) in her early 20’s and now (right) in her late 60’s.

Before I conclude, I must share some rather disturbing news with you. I spent a few days in Atlanta over the holiday and was surprised to learn of a home invasion that took place at my house while I was gone.  As it turns out, Chris Byrne, formerly of Long Balls, decided it was acceptable to trespass on my private property in my absence.  I knew the dude was a tad bit odd, but I didn’t realize the truly warped proclivities that reside deep down inside him.  My guess is he didn’t want me or anyone else to know about his seemingly uncontrollable behavior, but unfortunately for him, he wasn’t aware that I have surveillance cameras stationed throughout my house.  

Mr. Byrne photographed in my house, lying in my bed, in my underwear, drinking my beer.

Above you will see me lying in my bed holding up the severely vandalized underwear
that Chris Byrne left behind as evidence of his caper.

I had just received those under garments for Christmas and had yet to wear them. The DNA results proving his guilt should be back from the FBI crime laboratory within six weeks, and yes, I will push for the local authorities to prosecute this common criminal to the severest penalties possible under the law. And by the way, he was also seen in my wife’s room wearing her under garments, but apparently, he left with that evidence.

To an amazing New Year!

Marty Lynch

The Court Marshal