This, That, and The Other

Here’s a quick wrap up of my St. Patty’s Week, that’s right, it’s no longer just a day.

THIS

As some of you know, I have been a judge in the Cleveland St. Patrick’s Day Parade for the last 6 or so years. You might also remember me telling you that My Bowling League would be entering marchers dressed as bowling pins in this year’s parade. Well, that didn’t happen because I realized that having ten pins and no bowling ball leading the way would look a little stupid. I had the pin costumes ready to go, but unfortunately, I couldn’t come up with a bowling ball costume that looked as good or as real as the pins. Then, the day after the parade I saw one of our very own bowlers zipping down the road on his snazzy two-wheeler……………I’m pretty sure I found the missing piece for next year’s parade.


Hey Mike Brown, I have a job for you.


My sister Beth claims I never told her that we pulled out of the parade. She also said that I should have put eye holes in the bowling pin costume. I think she’s right on both accounts.


THAT

Last weekend I went to a restaurant called Stone Mad; it’s an Irish bar on West 65th Street near Detroit Road. If you haven’t been there I would definitely recommend it, well, with one caveat that is. If you order the banana peppers stuffed with the spicy-hot sausage, be prepared to flat out scream the next time you sit on the toilet. If you’re not used to food like that, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get the blow dryer ready and set it on cool. After about 20 minutes of steady blow drying, the pulsating heart beat in my butt-hole finally subsided. This was lucky for me because my son grew tired of holding the blow dryer and pointing it at my ass. The good news for him is that I did keep my word and took him to the Dollar Store right afterwards.


My youngest son just before he learned how to help cool daddy down.


As you can see, my oldest son has had a bit more experience helping dear old dad.

Anyhow, the ambiance at Stone Mad is great; the stone work is incredible, and the menu is terrific. Furthermore, the outdoor patio is beautiful, and believe it or not, this Irish pub has an indoor bocce court for my Italian friends. However, there is one thing that puzzles me; I’m not sure if I should recommend our waitress Rebecca, or if I should tell you to steer clear of her.


Stone Mad Pub, 1306 West 65th Street, 44102…You’ll love it!

Here’s what happened. The hostess seats us, and then our waitress Rebecca comes over and introducers herself. She then points to two other waitresses across the room and informs us that she is training them and don’t be surprised if they come to our table to check up on us and help out with the service. Sounds good to me. Rebecca took our order and by golly, we didn’t see her again until she brought the check. In the mean time the other two servers, Gretchen and Kathleen provided us with outstanding service; we wanted for nothing. Water glass empty, here comes Gretchen, need another round, here comes Kathleen. Shit, when we finished eating the owner himself came to clear away the dishes. This girl Rebecca was doing a great job training and directing the staff at Stone Mad, and I would be certain to tell her what an outstanding job she had done, and to tip her handsomely, which I did.

Now check this out. The lovely Mrs. Lynch sends me out to pull the car up for her, and in the mean time; she uses the lady’s room. Anyhow, Sue’s in the stall when the waitresses, Gretchen and Kathleen come in bitching up a storm about that “lazy ass” Rebecca. Turns out, these two gals have been working there for over a year, and Rebecca is the one who just started last week. Sue also overheard the allegation that Rebecca spent the night going back and forth to the parking lot to provide “service” to her fiancée. Which I might point out, kind of makes me happy she didn’t actually serve me anything. Nonetheless, I have to give her credit, because if it weren’t for her not doing a damn thing, I may have had shitty service.


I’m pretty sure Kathleen and Gretchen had no idea Sue was in that stall. I’m also pretty sure Sue drank too much and forgot to pull her panties down.

So back to the original dilemma, should I recommend Rebecca as your server, I’ve got to go with yes, because if Rebecca’s your server you’re likely to have two well trained waitresses keeping an eye on you all night long. And if I were to recommend Gretchen or Kathleen, odds are they would be too busy covering for Rebecca to actually provide their own tables with adequate service.

Gretchen, Rebecca, and Kathleen; just as Meatloaf sang it, “2 out of 3 ain’t bad.”

AND THE OTHER

The lovely Mrs. Lynch and I went looking for a new stove last weekend. We met a very nice and knowledgeable appliance salesman who introduced himself as Allan. I said, “hello Allan, I’m Marty and this is my wife Sue.” My wife immediately turns her face toward me, smugly looks down her nose at me and says, “I prefer to be introduced as Suzanne.” Now as you can probably imagine, there was a ton of shit I thought about saying to my friendless, bitchy wife, but wisely, I didn’t. Instead, I apologized to her and said let me try this again. At which time I said, “hello Allan, I’m Marty and this is my wife Sue, who prefers to be introduced as Suzanne.” ………. I probably should have left it at sorry dear.

This is the oven that Sue and I originally decided was in our budget.

This is the oven Suzanne “preferred” to break the budget with….Maybe by the time we get done with the 72 easy payments, Sue, errrrrrr, Suzanne will have learned how to cook something besides toast.


Boner Appetit,

Marty Lynch

The King Pin

.

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An Irish Family

Us Irish folk tend to get a wee bit sentimental around St. Patrick's Day, and then for some reason, we tell long winded stories. We also tend to over-indulge in the spirits and usually forget what story we were telling, nonetheless, indulge me if you will, as I share a story I wrote for my two son's a decade ago.....................and trust me, I'll be back to my usual self tomorrow.

These pictures have nothing to do with this blog, I just kinda like them.

Dear Son,

Do you remember the story that I used to tell you about Emmett O'Malley. Maybe it's time to refresh your memory. In a country called Ireland, in a county called Cork, there lived a family called the O'Malley's. Three generations of O'Malley's lived in a large cluster of charming field stone cottages on top of a hill overlooking a valley. At family celebrations, the entire clan would gather at Grandpa Seamus' home, which sat right in the middle of all the other cottages. On one such occasion, Grandpa Seamus was entertaining all the kids with tales of Irish folk lore. When he finished, he took turns asking all the children what they wanted to do once they were fully grown. A farmer said one, a singer said another, a story-teller, a pub owner, a doctor, and the children went on and on. All the children answered, all the children, except young Emmett.

After the children went about doing other things, Grandpa Seamus grabbed Emmett, put him upon his lap and said " and Emmett me fine lad, what is it that you wish to be when you're a grown man?" Emmett looked square into his grandpa's eyes and said "Grandpa Seamus, when I grow up, I wish to be the richest man in all of Ireland." Grandpa Seamus smiled and said, "tis that a fact, so the richest man in all of Ireland you wish to be, aye me lad?" "Indeed I do" said Emmett. A twinkle came to his eye, and a grin to his face as he told young Emmett that he knew the secret to becoming the richest man in all of Ireland.

Emmett's eyes opened wide as he said "you do, why please tell me grandpa, please tell." Grandpa Seamus looked at Emmett quite seriously and said, "Emmett sweet lad, have you heard the tale that there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?" "Why of course" said Emmett, "tis it true grandpa?" Grandpa Seamus nodded his head and replied, "Indeed it is Emmett. All you must do is get to the end of that rainbow and you will find your pot of gold, and I assure you lad, you will be the richest man in all of Ireland."

A few days later the rain came. As the rain was letting up, the sun began to shine, and a beautiful rainbow appeared. It stretched out from above his head, clear across the valley, and over to the other hillside. Emmett set out to find his pot of gold, and become the richest man in all of Ireland. Emmett hadn't gotten far, when the mist subsided and the rainbow suddenly disappeared. He would not get to the end of the rainbow that day. Emmett would try again and again. First he jogged, but to no avail. Then he ran, the result the same. He would try by mule, then by bicycle, yet still he couldn't reach the end of the rainbow. His childhood years and his teenage years would pass, but Emmett kept trying to get to the end of the rainbow. He wanted desperately to find that pot of gold and become the richest man in all of Ireland.

As time passed, Emmett took a wife and became a father. He built himself his own cottage in the thick of the cluster and worked along side his kin on the family farm. Grandpa Seamus became Great Grandpa Seamus, yet he remained quick as a whip and stayed as fit as a fiddle. Emmett still hadn't given up hope. When the next rain came, Emmett decided he would be ready. One morning he was awakened by thunder. He quickly got dressed and made his way through the rain and into the barn. He sat himself on top of his motorcycle and waited with hopes that a rainbow would appear. As the sun began to rise from beneath the valley; the most beautiful rainbow that Emmett had ever seen rose in the sky. Emmett followed that rainbow right from his barn, clear across the valley, and over to the other hillside. Emmett raced along on his motorcycle. He was more than half way there when he realized he'd never made it this far before. He began talking to the rainbow, please don't disappear he yelled to the sky. The rainbow heard him, and Emmett made it to the other hillside while the rainbow stood bright in the sky. Emmett got off the motorcycle and hurriedly looked all over for the pot of gold. Where is it grandpa, he said to himself. I've made it to the end of the rainbow, where is it, where is the pot of gold. Emmett search frantically, yet he saw no pot of gold. Had his grandpa lied to him, or did someone else beat him to it?

Emmett looked back up to the sky to ensure that he was at the end of the rainbow. His eyes slowly followed the beautiful colors up, and up, and then over across the valley. Finally, he followed the colors back down, and as his eyes reached the bottom of the rainbow he simply stared. What he saw were the roof tops of a cluster of field stone cottages, all of which were occupied, by members of his family. He had never seen a rainbow from this vantage point. And now that he had, he finally understood what Grandpa Seamus was talking about. You see, Emmett never considered that there were two ends of a rainbow. For all these years Emmett was looking for his pot of gold at the wrong end of the rainbow. It was only then that Emmett realized that he was ever so fortunate to have a strong, caring family. A wonderful wife, an adorable child, brothers and sisters, parents and grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, all of whom loved him so very much. It was that very day that Emmett O'Malley finally made it to the end of the rainbow.

He knew in his heart that he did find that pot of gold, and yes, he realized that he was the richest man in all of Ireland.

.

It took me awhile to realize it, but I am Emmett O'Malley.

.

I hope one day that you are too.
.

Love Dad

This picture does mean something. It's the outfit that the lovely Mrs. Lynch will be wearing when I get home tonight!

Marty Lynch

The King Pin

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February 28, 2010 Recap

For those of you who didn’t get a chance to get a good look at the new haircut the lovely Mrs. Lynch surprised me with, here’s the lid I’m walking around with these days.


I told Sue she gave me a shitty haircut. She told me the haircut was fine, I just need to touch up the grey………then she said; oh by the way, now we’re even.

There really is no good way to say this, so screw it, here goes. For the third straight year, “The Spare Me’s” are bowling in the My Bowling League Championship game; but that’s not the bad part. The bad part is the fact that Dick Dongo and “Team Hate” are also playing for this year’s title. It didn’t take me long to realize that no one wants either of these two teams to be crowned the champions, so here is the alternate plan we are going to utilize this year. I’m sure most of you folks are familiar with it because we talked about it last season. This year we are going with the Obama plan.

Very simply put, whoever wins the contest will immediately give their championship title to the team that comes in last place; which this year will be either “No Spare Time” or coincidentally, my squad, “Minds in the Gutter.”


I can’t get the winner on the cover of the Wheaties box, but Campbell’s did agree to name a soup after Dick Dongo if his team prevails. (Actually, they said they’d do it even it his team loses)

When I realized that this week’s My Bowling League Queen was none other than Highland Hts. Mayor Scott Coleman, I gotta tell you; I was kind of embarrassed for the guy. Now, the fact that he was 19 pins under his average doesn’t embarrass me; furthermore, the fact that his team, “The Eliminators” could have been playing for the championship had he not choked, doesn’t embarrass me either. What concerns me is that after his horrendous performance, My Bowling League may now have the weakest kneed Mayor in the history of Freeway Lanes.

Considering Cleveland Hts. Mayor Ed Kelley (left) sports a Lady Bug like 102 average, and former East Cleveland Mayor Eric Brewer (right) sport Lady Bug like lingerie, you’d think we’d be proud of Coleman.

By the way, Coleman wasn’t the only person to piss himself last week. Tom Rudibaugh, with the 4th highest average in the league was batting clean-up for “Gutter Done,” and merely needed a mark plus 2 in the tenth to keep his teams hopes alive. After leaving the head pin with his first ball, Tom stepped back to calm himself. That’s when I noticed a very Curt Shilling like scene. Just as Shilling came to the mound in the World Series with his blood stained sock, similarly, Rudibaugh took to the hard wood with shit pouring down onto his tri-colored shoes and ankle high socks. Then, not eight feet down the lane after releasing his second ball, like a magnet, Rudibaugh’s $160 Brunswick was sucked directly into the gutter; game over.

Contrary to the rumor circulating at the lanes last week, we are not renaming The Lady Bug List, “The TJ Sell, Dave Miller, and Patrick Getty List;” but we probably should, but we’re not.

After posting a 212 in game one, Kathleen Getty cruised to this week’s My Bowling League King award. Her 22 pins over average were just a tad better than Mimi Millers 17 above average.

Once again, Kathleen Getty happily straps on the sausage.

It won’t be official until after next week, but it’s a pretty safe bet that either Dawn Rossi or Ann Marie Mills will win the “I Suck More Than Anyone Else in the Entire League” award.

See you at Freeway Lanes on Sunday March 14, 2010 for our final week of bowling for My Bowling League, Season Three.

Short and Sweet,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin


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Save The Date?????

Check this out.

Last Saturday night Andrew Ryzner takes Yo Yo, his fiancée to the St. Ann’s reverse raffle and gets her all liquored up on the cheap $2 wine. At 11pm she starts asking Ryzner to take her home because she’s not feeling well. After pleading with him for two hours he finally agrees, begrudgingly, to leave at 1am. Yo Yo quickly falls asleep in the car; meaning that Andrew is going to have to figure out a way to get her into the house, right? Wrong; he has to figure out how to close the car door without waking her when he gets to the Colony Tavern for a nightcap.


Andrew Ryzner at The Colony, doing a little night capping with a couple of perfect strangers.

When they close the bar at 2:30 he returns to the car to find that Yo Yo got, as he puts it, “just a little bit sick on her shoulder and on the inside of the car door.” Because he loves her so much he decided that he should clean her up a bit. Unfortunately there is nothing in the car to wipe her down with. So does “Mr. Knight in Shining Armor” take off his Hugo Boss pin-point shirt and use it to clean her up? Nope, does he use his 100% cotton Hanes undershirt? Nope, how about the Cleveland Brown’s ski hat he found in the glove compartment? Nope, Ryzner decides that he loves her enough to take off his sock and wipe her face down with that.


As Ryzner puts it, Yolonda got “just a little bit sick.”

Here’s where it kind of went bad for the recently engaged Ryzner. When Yo wakes up, is she nestled all warm and snug in her bed? Au contraire; she’s on the floor of the garage, with her feet under the car, she has a sock stuck in her right ear, and her left jug is half way out of her top.


Maybe it’s just me, but Yolonda looks pretty comfortable.

She goes inside to find Andrew lying on the couch with an empty Stouffer’s macaroni and cheese dish on his lap, and a bone dry 2 liter bottle of Dr. Pepper on the floor. She wakes him and learns that after leaving the raffle they came right home; he brought her inside, put her in bed, and fluffed the pillows for her. So all he can figure is that she was so over-served that she must have gone back outside on her own during the middle of the night. She actually believed him, and then apologized for ruining his night. He graciously accepted and thought he was in the clear until someone from the Colony Tavern left a message on their answering machine saying that Yo had left her purse in the bar.


Hey Ryzner, I hope that couch is comfortable, I’ve got this feeling you’re gonna be spending a lot of time there. Now go wash your hands.

Totally busted, Ryzner decides it’s time to come clean. After which, Yo Yo asks him why he took her purse into the bar with him? And this my friends, is the problem with today’s youth; they don’t think before they speak. He looks her in the eye and says, “What do I look stupid, that’s a dangerous neighborhood and I didn’t want someone breaking into the car and stealing the purse; it’s a total pain in the ass to have to cancel all of your credit cards.”


FYI - Ryzner’s previous engagement to Brandi Glass ended after similar circumstances.

Some marriages are made in heaven, but I absolutely, positively guarantee, this ain’t one of them.

I’m still saving the date, but I’m not sure I need to.

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

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Celebrity Look a Likes Phase 4

I’m not sure if anyone else will see the resemblance, but I do.

Kate Gavin (left) and Ohio State graduate and comic writer Bruce Vilanch; two peas in a pod.


Then there’s always Dave “The Salt Man” Koski and his celebrity look-a-like.

I’m thinking the Rod Blagojevich picture on the right looks more like Dave Koski than the actual Dave Koski picture does.

I didn't realize that Al Roker was a man of so many faces.

Michelle & Bill Davis , meet your animated stunt doubles, Natasha & Boris.

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

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A Minor Correction

It appears that the lovely Mrs. Lynch has lost her sense of humor. In the February 19th blog, the picture I used of her after an exhausting night of bowling did not go over well. Unfortunately she saw it right before we left for the Cooperstown Fundraiser at Casa di Borally last Saturday night. The first thing Sue does when she’s mad is to pull out the old silent treatment. Now, is it just me, or do all men look forward to the silent treatment? It’s like the most peaceful time of my life, shit if they could bottle it, I’d use it every day.

Anyhow, after a nice quiet ride to the banquet, Sue immediately bumps into Sherry Tighe and the whole blog thing comes up. This did not go well for me either. After Sue bends Sherry’s ear about what a dick head I am, and promising that I’ve seen the last of the ole snatchola, Sherry volunteers that she’s quite happy with the photo I used for her. In fact, she said it made her look and feel young and vibrant, and put her in a great mood. Now in Sue’s girl brain that obviously means I must want to screw Lady Tighe, otherwise I would have found a fat, hairy, ugly picture for her as well.

I’m not sure why that old saying, “when you’re in a hole stop digging,” didn’t pop into my head, but I sure wish it had. But no, I decide that I’m a pretty smooth talker and that this was a simple misunderstanding that I could clear up in no time flat. So what did I come up with? I told Sue that I found that picture a while ago and was gonna use it on Mike Brown, but she told me to lay off the fat jokes with him. Then I told her I was gonna use it on Carla Bondra but couldn’t come up with anything; and, since it was such a good picture I hated to waste it. Everything went perfect, Sue seemed to calm down, she even put a little grin on her face; that was at 8:30 that night. I didn’t realize it then, but it turns out, at approximately 8:31, she got in the car and left.

So, in an effort to ensure I don’t go blind, I’d like to offer this editorial correction and updated picture of the lovely Mrs. Lynch.


I think exhausted is the best way to describe how Sue felt after a long night of bowling.


Marty Lynch
The King Pin

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February 14, 2010 Recap

At 12 pins over her average, the lovely Mrs. Lynch was the winner of this week’s My Bowling League King award, and was therefore given the rights to the league sausage. Quickly realizing that she’s the last person in the world who would need any additional meat in her life, Sue graciously has placed the big fellow on loan to Sherry Tighe, who as we all know, has been stuck with “the stub” for all these years. Anyhow, Sherry was absolutely thrilled when she got the news.


I think ecstatic is the best way to describe how Sherry felt after Sue gave her the sausage.


I think exhausted is the best way to describe how Sue felt after a long night of bowling.

This week’s Queen will go to our brand new papa, Irv Treibatch. Apparently Irving is not getting much rest these days as his 17 pins below average were just a little more pathetic then Ryan McKinley’s 14 pins south of average.


Hopefully, Queen Irvabella can get some rest soon.

The lovely Mrs. Lynch was able to persuade me (in a Barry White sort of way) to forego this week’s Lady Bug List. It was most certainly an in-disguisable attempt to save TJ Sell and Dave Miller the embarrassment of being repeat recipients of this less than prestigious designation. Though not typically my style, I nonetheless, acquiesced to her wishes.

Now might be a good time to say your goodbyes to the Himmel’s and Sirselle’s who, because of their demanding schedules, won’t be able to participate in the league next year. We will all obviously miss them; that is, assuming you remember who they are. The Kane’s are clearly busy as well, but they will be joining another team next year so that they can continue to accompany us on the annual booze cruise.

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

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This, That, and the Other

REALITY

I’m not one to pry into other people’s business, but every now and then I like to check up on the lives of my relatives. I was talking to my 24 year old niece last month, and being the caring uncle that I am, I inquired as to whether or not she was dating anyone. She quickly said “no I’m not seeing anyone and I don’t plan on seeing anyone.” I figured I touched a sore spot and decided to let it go. She’s not a homely girl and should be able to get a date every now and again, so my gut was telling me she probably has a ton of character flaws, or anger issues, or something along those lines. Nonetheless, I gracefully backed off.

It wasn’t until last week that things came into focus for me. I was doing a little creeping on Facebook; you know, checking up on all of my nieces and nephews, making sure that they’re not getting into trouble. I found every one of them, except for Catie, the 24 year old. Turns out, that after hopping around I see her picture in one of my nephew’s friends list; and she’s using an alias. I’m not going to divulge how I made my way onto her page, but suffice to say, Sherlock Holmes ain’t got nothing on me.

As I scoured her Profile, her Wall, her Photos, things became painfully clear; the girl needs professional help. I learned that she is seeing someone, a man she gleefully refers to as her “little Guido Rican.” It also became clear that she is trying to hide her 16 years of Catholic education, (that her parents are still paying off) and worse yet, disavow her Irish heritage. Thank god my dad’s not alive or this would kill him. I don’t have the heart to tell my brother that next month she plans to quit her job, her good job, a job for which she is over paid, and under-qualified. Her brilliant plan is to take out a huge loan and start a local reality TV show called Erie Shores. Apparently her name on the show is going to be Ms. Noogie and her boyfriend will be called The Destination. Well, if you ask me, her life’s destined for failure and misery, but like I said, I don’t like to pry, so I’d prefer if one of you told my brother.


If Erie Shores works, I’m starting the reality show “The Housewives’ of My Bowling League,” and yeah, there will be nudity.

THE FIRST MARTIN V INVITATIONAL OF 2010

I had a Martin V Invitational at the Sell’s house last weekend; I called it a Marty Gras, pretty clever huh? Anyhow, Dick Dongo was there and by golly he just keeps getting dumber. He was complaining about how tough his life is with all this travel he has to deal with, and blah, blah, blah. Anyhow, I asked him what his wife did while he was on the road. Now I’m guessing that every other guy on the planet would have at least looked over his shoulder before answering that question, but not Dickie D. I’m going to try and condense his response, but it went something like this:

“Susanna begins her day with a pot of coffee, followed by dropping the boy off at school. When she returns home, she drains another pot of coffee while she curls up and reads for a couple of hours. She then proceeds to sleep off the caffeine with a refreshing three hour nap. She wakes up about 1pm for the Young and the Restless, or whatever the soap opera is. During the commercials she vacuums; which technically takes two hours, it’s just not continuous. Then at 3pm she swings by the BP station for a 48 ounce coffee to get her to and from the drive to pick up Junior at school. Then it’s back to the couch for some Oprah till dinner time, which apparently is a Lean Cuisine for her and whatever the kids decide to make for themselves. Then Queen Susanna plops her tail back down on the couch for an evening of Lifetime Television Entertainment and a couple of bags of chocolate covered pretzels.”

Now I suppose I could have given him the high sign to tip him off that Susanna was standing behind him the whole time, but for whatever reason, I didn’t. As I watched her mouth begin to grit and her face turn an odd shade of purple, I decided that I would remind motor mouth that it was his wife’s birthday and he might want to cut her some slack. To which he replied “her birthday, I don’t give a shit about her birthday, every damn day of her life is her birthday, she doesn’t do shit.”


Dick Dongo may have thought that a rolling pin was a good birthday present, but I have a feeling he’s going to regret giving her that gift.

THE LAST MARTIN V INVITATIONAL OF 2009

By the way, I had another Martin V Invitational at PJ Buynack’s house at Christmas, and Dave and Diane Koski made their way onto the list. It wasn’t because Diane is my dentist; it was because Dave is PJ’s dentist. Anyhow, I learned a couple of interesting things that night. First, for some reason, one which I can’t actually explain, I mistakenly thought that Diane was Jewish. This new gentile information leaves me with a rather large dilemma; do I break my doctor, dentist, accountant, attorney, Hebrew only rule, or do I ditch Diane and go to the phone book and find the first Rabinowitz DDS that shows up? Fortunately, I only go to the dentist every 7 or 8 years so I’ve got some time.


Diane Koski is nice and all, but I’m thinking Stanley Rabinowitz is a much safer bet.

Another thing I learned was that Dave has decided that since Diane only works 32 hours a week, she should be considered part time. Therefore he pays her at an hourly rate of $8.25, and believe it or not, makes her punch a time clock. The worst part is that she has to use that money to buy groceries and household supplies. Which means that while Dave zips down the road and puts his 2 hour Harry Buffalo lunch on the company visa card, Diane is back at the office brown bagging it in between patients.

By the way, try not to schedule any appointments at their office during the winter; but if you do, make sure you park right next to Dave’s car. This cheap bastard refuses to spend money on rock salt so his parking lot is a sheet of ice from November until April; except of course that little trail of salt that goes from his car door to the back door of his building. I never thought I’d find a person who could make Chip Tighe look like a big spender, and truth be told, I still haven’t. At the same time, I never thought I’d meet someone as cheap as Chip, but thanks to Dave Koski, I have.



That tight-wad bastard Dave Koski prepares to frugally de-ice his parking lot.



Don't forget to watch Miz Noogie, coming this Fall


Marty Lynch
The King Pin




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January 31, 2010 Recap

I’d be willing to bet that all of you folks enjoyed the Super Bowl; well, with the possible exception of Brian Himmel and Brian Kane that is. If you recall from last year’s banquet, these two guys shared the “Queer Little Bitch of the Year” award for 2009; and, as I was making my friendly rounds at the lanes last week, I noticed that I was getting the cold shoulder from these two Brian’s. I tried to make a little small talk, I tried asking about their kids, about how the jobs going, you name it; Ole Martin V went out of his way to be cordial. Nonetheless, these two guys wouldn’t talk to me; so I gave up trying.

It wasn’t until later that night when I bumped into Cristen Kane that I learned what was going on. These guys were pissed at me and were pouting all night because they had to bowl instead of going to some Grammy Award party at some little sissy bar they hang out at. Apparently, they had heard that someone named Pink was supposed to put on a spine-tingling performance that would be talked about for decades; and they knew they were missing it. Somewhat, but not entirely shocked, I explained to Cristen that we bowl every other week and as I prepared the schedule, I had to chose between bowling on the night of the Grammy’s or the night of the Super Bowl. She understood completely and said very matter of factly “that’s why they won the queer little bitch thing last year, and that’s probably why they’ll win it again this year.” It sure is tough to argue with that logic.



Kane and Himmel when they realized that the TV monitors at Freeway Lanes weren’t working, and they wouldn’t be watching the Grammy’s this year.

I don’t mean to harp on Himmel, but I may as well get this over with now. Brian is the My Bowling League Queen this week and gets to picture himself in that edgy black sequin dress that Taylor Swift sported on the red carpet runway last week. Brian was a whopping 23 pins below average, and I’m sure much of that off night had to do with the forlorn state he was in. Unfortunately, it gets worse; Melissa Himmel is this week’s Co-My Bowling League King as she wiped up the polyurethane pine wood runway with her 19 pins over average. Good news for Melissa is she finally has a real sausage in her life; perhaps now she’ll have some manly company to hang out with during the Super Bowl, while Brian is busy raiding her clothes closet.


Yo Melissa slow down, remember, you have to share the sausage this week.


Brian Himmel is whipping up an espresso and getting ready for the exciting half time show.

There’s big news in the Getty household as well, as Kathleen tied Melissa at 19 pins over average for her share of this week’s sausage. Mrs. Himmel said she has no problem sharing the meat, and in fact, she kind of looks forward to it.

We also have a nice Lady Bug List this week. The good doctor, Patrick Getty is back where he belongs as he headlines this week’s cast of failures. I will give Getty this; he was at least at his average, so he’s not on the list because he has a huge vajayjay, he’s on the list because his wife’s pecker is just way bigger than his.


Patrick Getty and his thumbtack (left) get ready for a swim; while Kathleen Getty and her junk get ready for a little stationary bike workout.

Other lucky Lady Bugs this week include previous recipients TJ Sell and Matt Creech, along with; you guessed it, Brian Himmel. Once again, Dave Miller was able to squeak his way off the Lady Bug List this week. So for the record, Dave, the 6’3” - 275 pounder, has out pinned his wife Mimi, the 4’ 3” - 81 pounder by a total of 5 pins over the last 6 games. Way to go Miller, you’re showing her who’s the boss aren’t you?

Dave and Mimi Miller all the way back on their first date.

Last Thursday, my wife was reading some crazy French tabloid newspaper with a photo of Angelina Jolie looking way-way hot on the cover. Figuring this might be a good opportunity to score some brownie points with the lovely Mrs. Lynch, I tell her that she looks just like Angelina. She said “honey aren’t you sweet,” then she says, “what a coincidence, I’m looking at a picture of Brad Pitt in this paper and he looks just like you.” Thinking that she was giving me some coded mating signal I sauntered over to her and said “really, let me see the picture.” This is when I realized why my wife doesn’t have any friends; she’s just a mean, insensitive bitch.

The lovely Mrs. Lynch will be sorry when I trade her ass in. I can change being fat, but she can’t change being a miserable nag.

Alright people, you know the drill, mum’s the word, I’ll see you this Sunday.

With warmth in my heart,

Marty Lynch
The King Pin

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A Little More This and That

A LITTLE THIS

One of the new couples, Natalie and Irving Treibatch welcomed their first child into the world on January 16th. They have named their healthy 7lb. 6oz. son George, a family name on Natalie’s side. Irv called me yesterday to say that he kept the New Year’s resolution that I gave to him, and has already completed the DNA testing. He proudly reports that the boy is definitely his. Congratulations from all of us!


The curious young fella is clearly the spittin’ image of his dad.

A LITTLE THAT

Scott Mills called me the Thursday before bowling and asked if anybody needed subs, and by sheer coincidence, Brian Himmel had asked if the Mills were available. Finally, people having their shit together,…..or so I thought. Then at 4pm Sunday I get a text from Mills saying something “unavoidable” just came up, sorry, can’t make it. Apparently he thinks the Dee Dee Bondra rule doesn’t apply to subs.

I decided not to call him back and give him shit, but I started thinking; what does unavoidable mean? He could have said, people came in from out of town; forgot the kid had a game; I’ve got the flu. He could have even done what that idiotic wench Dawn Rossi did, saying she was surprised with tickets to a show at the last minute; but no not Mills, he says something unavoidable.

After a week, I can’t take it anymore, I‘ve got to know what was unavoidable. I decide to call his cell phone and asked him what happened. It was a shitty connection but I was pretty sure he said “me and the misses went out to Niagara, and won’t be back around for 36 hours.” That didn’t make any sense, why did he wait till the last minute to call me? Later that night I was watching TV when a commercial came on, and boom, I figured out what he said.



“Me and the misses tried out some Viagra, and it won’t go back down for 36 hours.”


A LITTLE THIS

I went over to watch the St. Paschal’s 8th grade basketball team play last Saturday morning. Chip Tighe and Tim Salcer are the coaches; and from time to time Chip gets upset with the CYO officiating. Now Tighe is a card carrying member of the Ohio High School Basketball Officials Association, so he is supposed to know the rules, but trust me, he’s absolutely clueless.

Anyhow, Chip thinks one of his players got fouled and starts screaming at the ref, and ultimately, proceeds to drop an F-bomb on the poor guy. The ref comes over to eject Chip from the game for using foul language; that’s when our little wussy boy Tighe tells the ref he didn’t say it; he points to Salcer and says “he yelled it.” So the ref tosses Tim out of the gym and makes him wait in the parking lot until the game is over. Now Salcer has to serve a three game suspension because of Tighe’s behavior. And I thought being his neighbor sucked.


Hey Chip go back and look at your manual, this is not a basketball hand signal.

A LITTLE THAT

You know what, speaking of Tim Salcer; the guy kind of irritates me. He’s one of those goody-two-shoes fellas, who’s always trying to do the right thing. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard the guy swear, which I should point out is tough to do when you have twenty-five 8th grade kids on a football field all screwing around at the same time. But that’s not what really bugs me about the guy. The fact that the guy doesn’t own a T-shirt that he hasn’t cut the sleeves off, which he obviously does so he can walk around flexing for people all day, doesn’t bother me either. When he moved into his new 5 bedroom, 3,500 square foot home, this dick sent out those “I’ve Moved” postcards with a picture of him standing in front the place. It didn’t even bother me when I read the back of the post card saying that he registered at Crate and Barrel for anyone who would like to get him a house warming gift; what a d-bag.

I can deal with all that shit, but here’s what bugs me; I coached football at Paschal’s for 4 years, and the worst part about it was having to wait around every night for the parents to pick up their kids. However, my last year of coaching was Tim’s first year, and guess what? We never had to wait around for parents to pick up their kids, because once Salcer started coaching, all of the mom’s dropped off their kids, and oddly enough, decided to stay and watch the entire practice. Now the guy is like 28 years old, has little to no body fat, is somewhat attractive in an ugly sort of way, and has probably spent about $40,000 on his teeth. But let’s face it people, he’s still no Marty Lynch, and the fact that these old biddy’s overlooked a stud like me for a guy like Tim, who I should point out, is incapable of loving anyone other than himself, pisses me off.

So let me give you ladies a tip; a tip that Tim, the “self” proclaimed charming, eligible bachelor, appears to be far too kind to tell all of you old broads. A tip, which would be pretty damn obvious to you saggy breasted hags if you weren’t so damn delusional; he’s not looking for some 45 year old wrinkled-ass married woman who has to put 8 pounds of make up on just to look presentable. So unless you got it like Terry Hatcher’s got it, or like Courtney Cox got it, you better wake up and realize you ain’t in Cougar Town.


I’m not sure what all the fuss is about, I mean come on; Salcer ain’t got it like the King Pin got it. Hell, he should have been in the celebrity look-a-like blog.


By the way, Tim asked if I would be willing to link a couple of his YouTube dance videos on this blog. I was more than happy to honor his request. By the way, I’m sure some of your kids who played for him will enjoy these too.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-jVMDLIB0o

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0lN0gKTiWvQ&NR=1

A LITTLE THIS

Brian Kane can’t wait to go back on the Booze Cruise this year. Not simply because he does nothing but eat, drink and gamble all day, but rather, he enjoys making new friends. Brian must be a real guy’s guy because all the fella’s wanted to hang out with him by the pool. I suggest that those of you who haven’t signed up yet, get moving because you’re running out of time; and it is a great time!

Brian says that when he smothers his face in this area for 2 or 3 minutes, he can’t help but make new guy friends.

A LITTLE THAT

I hate beating a dead horse, but my god this Dick Dongo may be the dumbest person on the entire planet, if not the universe. I was talking to him about the earthquake in Haiti when he says that I should start texting some 90999 number because each time I do it the cellular company donates $10 to the relief effort. He then tells me he’s done it tons of times. I said to him, “you realize that the cellular company isn’t donating that money, you are.” He says “what are you talking about.” So I explain to him that each time he text’s that number, his cellular account is charged $10. You should have seen the look on his face when he said “you’re bullshitting me, right?” He obviously thinks I’m kidding, so I suggest he pick up the phone right now and call the cell company and find out what his current account balance is. I almost, that’s right, I almost felt bad for the guy when I heard him scream into the phone, $47,000…..$47,000…you’re out of your mind, I’m not paying you $47,000. I’m not sure what he’s going to do to get out of paying that bill, and quite frankly, I don’t care. Perhaps this is just what he needed to finally pull his head out of his ass and start paying attention to shit.


Yo Dickie D, this is no way to go through life.


With all my love,


Marty Lynch
The King Pin

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