It’s late Sunday night and all the football games have ended. Two of my three daughters are asleep but probably not for long. One is cutting teeth; the other is losing teeth. Daughter #3, the three-month-old is wide-awake, but just gave me a smile that was inspirational enough to start writing. I just poured myself an equally inspirational vodka on the rocks and sat down at my desk. I’ll no longer be brand specific, as they don’t sponsor me, or advertise…yet. But you know what I drink. I’m only allotted one though, because there is a very narrow window that separates closing bartender/writer from opening Daddy. Anyway, I just now realized that I don’t have enough material on any particular subject matter for a full column, so I planned to title this week: Random Thoughts. However my handlers decided otherwise.

This week will be a completely random and miscellaneous compilation of things that run through my head, comprised of observations from the bar, things I think about when I’m alone, (which is pretty much relegated to my showers, and my ride to work), and various laws that would be in place if one day I become “King of the World.”

I believe we’ve now firmly established the fact that my mind works a little differently than that of most people, and that I find humor and entertainment in unusual places. With Shorebilly’s Swill being over a year old now, that fact has been well documented. If you’re an English teacher, or journalism professor, now might be a good time to log off and go grab your Kindle. But if you’re a fan of pointless, senseless entertainment and are willing to spend the next five minutes or so of your life taking a ride into the warped gaping abyss that is my head, then by all means, hop on, strap in and enjoy the ride. Let’s get weird.

On Flavoring…and Vodka…and Bacon:

I believe that the only thing that should be bubblegum flavored is bubblegum. This thought came to me after taking my daughter to the dentist the other day and then working that night. During my little girl’s dental visit, the dentist gave her a fluoride treatment to clean her teeth that was bubblegum flavored. I found it ironic that the same guy who discourages the chewing of bubblegum was now pumping the inside of my kid’s face full of a cleansing agent that is the flavor of Bazooka. From what I hear, to this day only 4 out of 5 of his colleagues have even endorsed Trident and now he’s incorporated essence of Bubble Yum into his regiment. Far be it for me to ever miss a good moment of irony. In fact, later on that night I went to work and had to pour bubblegum flavored vodka for people. It seems the ironies never cease. I suppose it’s intended to save a step for people who want to go out drinking and then mask their breath for the ride home in case they get pulled over. This product is a Godsend to people who have consumed enough alcohol that they no longer possess the ability to operate both their temporal mandible joint and a motor vehicle at the same time.

Keeping with this theme, I believe that the flavored vodka sensation has officially gone too far. You can’t have a picture of a cartoon camel on a pack of smokes because it’s appealing to children, but it’s perfectly acceptable to produce an entire line of spirits that are the flavors of sugary children’s breakfast cereals, and various desert toppings. They’re really going hard after that target elementary school demographic. I now stand behind a bar stocked with approximately 40 different fun flavors of vodkas and I suddenly come to the harsh realization that both I, and the pizza-faced teenager working the counter at Baskin Robbins have roughly the same job requirements. It’s a humbling moment in a man’s life when he realizes that the only thing keeping his career from coming full circle are the words: would you like sprinkles with that? at the end of each transaction.

There’s even bacon-flavored vodka. I’m a firm believer that two of the greatest creations ever to grace our planet are bacon and vodka, but as it turns out, I don’t much care for them in the same recipe. I’ll just have to continue to use both hands at breakfast time. I do however believe that almost anything can be made better with the addition of bacon. I’ll parlay this theory into all aspects of my life. If I have a really bad headache, I’ll drape a few strips of bacon across my forehead and lay down for a little while. If I have trouble paying my bills, I’ll place a strip of bacon in my checkbook…this may be the “get weird” part. I’ll stop now. You get the picture. EVERYTHING is better with bacon.

On Names:

Somewhere, right this very moment there’s a guy with the initials WTF who wishes that the practice of texting had never come to fruition. This poor guy had to throw away an entire set of monogram bath towels with matching robe and about 5 dozen special ordered golf balls.

Just imagine if Brad Pitt had a little brother named Stu. His life would just plain suck on so many levels.

True Random Thoughts:

There are two things that I will never outgrow, even if I live to be 150 years old (which incidentally, I plan on). The first is that if I wake up in the morning to snow on the ground, I will always get excited as if I don’t have to go to school. And the second is that I will always, ALWAYS, laugh at a fart. They will just never cease to be funny to me. I wish I could say I was deeper than that, but we all know I’d be lying.

It troubles me that the inventor of the Snuggie lives in a mansion, and I’m renting my house. Some stoned frat boy has the infinite wisdom to put his robe on backwards on a cold night and next thing you know, he’s catapulted to the “As Seen On TV” hall of fame. While I work two jobs to pay for diapers.

I love the irony of the fact that both Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand have Christmas albums.

I am now, always have been, and always will be troubled by the fact that the word phonetic is NOT spelled the way it sounds.

Syd’s Belief System:

I believe that anyone who adds an extra “C” to the word escape, or uses irregradless as if it were really a word should be forced to stand shirtless against a wall while several Nerf balls which have been soaked overnight in a bucket of warm goat urine are fired at them from a cannon.

I believe that sometimes, pharmaceutical companies create the drug first and come up with the ailment later. Is restless leg syndrome really a major issue? I thought that bipolar meant a large white bear that’s attracted to both guys and girls. Perhaps more time should be spent on drugs to help cancer and AIDS patients and less time on genital enhancing drugs. If I really had use for a 4-hour love mallet, I’d be living in a hotel.

I believe that if you wear your Bluetooth device as a fashion accessory while out on the town, you should be smacked in the side of the head with a freshly caught flounder. I don’t mean one of those barely legal ones either. I’m talkin’ a doormat sized, state-record, still flopping around flounder.

I believe that anyone under the age of 30 who uses the phrases: back in the day, or old school, should have to spend an entire Friday night shampooing a fat man’s back hair. Then braid it, put it in cornrows, and put beads on it.

I believe I’ve lost my mind.

I believe my wife is a really good sport who will one day be sainted.

I believe I am a very lucky man.

I believe that the greatest sound in the world that one could ever hear is a child’s laughter.

And I believe I’ll be back with more next week.

Thanks for playing along,

Syd Nichols

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