Dear Piers Morgan

Dear Piers Morgan,

     I have watched you interview many people on your show. I have studied your style, your posture, and your straw man attacks on people ranging from Alex Jones to people in the government. Most recently I observed you talking with George Zimmerman's brother, and every time the man began to make a valid point you interrupted him with some off the cuff remark that was not germain to the discussion. I would like to be on your show. And I would like to be the whole show so as to allow for all of your duck and dodge tactics. Unlike Alex, I will wait until you take a breath, and then calmly make my point. Where I have to  I will gently steer you back into the conversation and try to keep you on point. If you allow me to appear I assure you that I will win the debate. If you ignore this request, and I'm sure you will, well, I've won already, now haven't I? I will discuss a wide range of topics, none of which we agree on. I won't have to bring any notes because I know I'm dealing with you. When I'm done with you, you will be a wiser man. Hope to see you soon.

Weird Wilbur 

In Search of the Perfect Martini

                                       In Search of the Perfect Martini

                                                       by Wilbur Witt

     My affection for martinis is well documented. I ordered my first one at the Berry Creek Country Club in 2005. Up until then I was a whiskey drinker. That went back to my Nashville days. I was living in my studio on Westend Avenue, sleeping under my mixing console and didn't have any means of refrigeration. With no way to supply cold beer, a bottle of Beam was handier. I learned to drink it Nashville style, from a Red Solo cup, mixing it with gums and teeth. http://youtu.be/BKZqGJONH68  

     One night, for no apparently reason, I ordered a martini. I consider this to have been divine inspiration. Now, if you are a martini drinker you will know it from the first sip. It is a taste you remember from somewhere, and you welcome it back. If you are not a martini aficionado you will pass the drink to someone else. From my first sipI knew that I'd found my drug of choice. 

     In no time at all I had my shakers, glasses, and olives, and I was in business! I began with gin. I fell for the marketing and bought Beefeater, but found I actually preferred Bombay. The vermouth stayed a constant, Martini and Rossi extra dry. My logic was simple. First, it had the word "Martini" right on the label, and two, it was extra dry, and that's what the bartender told me during my first encounter with the king of cocktails, so, being a simple old boy from Austin I stuck with it. I tried vodka. Vodka didn't have any "legs" to it, and I've always been highly suspicious of any liquor that doesn't have a "bite." It's like a woman who just lays there. Doesn't matter how pretty she is there's no relationship. 

     At first I only shook my martinis. At some point in time I stirred. I've heard that James Bond recipe for a vodka martini, shaken, not stirred, and one, he's drinking vodka, and two he's just wrong about the mechanics. I eventually fine tuned the mixing process to swirling. I still occasionally will shake, depends on the mood I'm in. If I want ice crystals in the cocktail I'll shake, if I'm after a smoother drink, I swirl. I never waste a martini. In the making of a video I found what appeared to be shreds of toilette paper in my glass, and if you will note, that martini did not go to waste!  http://youtu.be/nhVjw2Itjak.  I can take or leave the olives, depending upon if I've had dinner or not. If not, I do olives. 

     The blend is a preference of mine, also. In the approach to the driest martini possible I've tried several ratios of vermouth to gin, but given my "druthers" I fill the shaker half full of ice, pour in an ounce of vermouth, shake that around to saturate the ice, strain the vermouth out, leaving samples clinging to the ice, and then introduce the gin. This renders the proper martini. I make one drink at a time, changing the ice for each one. I do not like a bar where they bring you the shaker, filled with ice and martini, and the cocktail sits there like a beached whale soaking up water. 

     And the reason it will soak up water is rule number one when co-habitating   with a martini; martinis don't make friends in a hurry. The usual martini has a LOT of liquor in it. Using the shaker cap as a measure, mine are almost two to one when compared to a bloody Mary, margarita. Consequently, you sip the drink with respect. I never drive anything after I drink , and especially after a martini night. And I think the term, "Drink Responsibly" is an oxymoron. Just like the term, "Vomit Politely." The most responsible thing you can do is not drive. 

     Ladies and martinis are an excellent mix. If they are already a friend of the drink you have a highly intelligent partner to share time with. If it is their first voyage you need to explain to them that the martini is a very unique drink in that the introduction of vermouth nullifies the effects of the alcohol. Now, I would never be so unkind as to take advantage of a lady who was under the influence, but I am not saying I wouldn't allow her take advantage of me if I was under the influence. I believe in equality if the sexes. 

     There are many variations of martini. Apple flavors, various vodka recipes, but I prefer my classic blend. It's always there, always straight up, and meets me on equal ground, for about the first two. If there are martini enthusiasts out there please share you ideas, and for those of you of whom have never partook give this classic a try. I think you'll be surprised. 

     

Things I Dodge When Blogging

                                       Things I Dodge When Blogging

                                                          Wilbur Witt

     I think I watch about fifty or more videos a day, read two news feeds, and every blog I'm subscribed to in an effort to find something that strikes my fancy and I find interesting enough to write about. I didn't start out with a list of things I don't touch, they just evolved. However, that having been said there are certain things I have learned to avoid. 

Noah's Ark

     Every year some group of fundamentalists find a match stick on Mt Ararat and go pig-shit crazy. They have bought into the entire boat full of animals, and a universal flood. I don't write about this for two reasons. One, if I'm pro then everyone will think I'm nuts, too, and two, if I speak with a voice of reason I have to spend endless hours deleting idiotic emails from the 100's of Christian denominations that float that particular boat. Bottom line, there was no Noah's ark, it is a child's story, learn it, live it, love it!

Dianne Feinstein 

     I wanted to do a post on her. I don't like her, but I researched her career and found a milk-toast, lack luster, fool, that has slipped by for years because she comes from California and they will send anything to the senate. I wish she would go to Oceanside, get naked, smoke a joint, and let the rest of us run the country. 

The Government Is Amassing Ammo and Death Camps

     Actually all conspiracy theories are on this list. I have found that if you have a vast conspiracy theory then it's usually wrong. I have watched enormously complicated ideas that the planes that hit the twin towers were unmanned drones, JFK was shot by his driver, there is a New World Order running all the banks, and Obama is really a reptile in human form. Please join Feinstein for that joint. 

Any Health or Self Help From California

     I don't care what it is, I don't care how many letters they have behind their names, I don't care how many cable supported infomercials they put out, the moment I see UCLA, or Berkley, or anything originating from California I change channels to something else. Those people are all nuts, and everybody knows it. They are fun to watch, wonderful place to visit, but do NOT ever listen to them on any subject deeper than getting laid. 

Movie Stars Endorsing Anything

     Goes right back to the notes on people from California. Movie stars are shallow, stupid, Narcissistic, and get paid too much money for doing nothing. I don't write about them because I know they have to be fucked up, else they wouldn't be in Hollywood in the first place. And they emerge from their marijuana haze to expound on national issues they are completely ignorant of with full confidence that a lot of people will listen to them because they could remember their lines between, "Action!" and "Cut!"

Anything The Russians Say

     The Russians think they still have a country. Did I miss something?  Didn't they get their asses handed to them some twenty odd years ago?  But they still spout off like they have something to say. Long ago I went out in a trailer park I owned, please no jokes about me being Texan and owning a trailer park, and we shot stray cats who were ruining our sub floors. I hit one right in the side  of the head, blowing his brains literally out!  He walked off like he had good sense. RUSSIANS!

Sandusky 

     Penn State for that matter. Hell! The whole state of Pennsylvania. How'd they miss that? All I can say is they must have some ugly women up yonder. Typical Yankee attitude. "Oh, excuse me sir. I see you're bumping an eleven year old boy in the ass. I must make a note to report this to my supervisor." Even California can't beat that one.  

Aliens

     Any idea that ascribes evolution, God, written language, or pyramids to little green men is stupid. As a teen I had this wet dream about being abducted by aliens, taken up there somewhere, and given my choice of any girl I wanted so they could study breeding. I was nuts, and so are the proponents of alien abductions, and all the rest. 

Anything Pornographic

     I prefer three dimensional girls. It's nice if they're warm, too. 

Arguments Between Atheists And Theists

     Imagine an intellectual discussion between a dog and a cat. Well, there you are. Both sides screaming about something they cannot prove. I used to be a religious, theological writer, but then I met Penn and Teller and I put away childish things. 

     These are just a few of a growing list of things I try not to write about. Do you have any subjects?  I'm sure you do. If you don't, just keep blogging and make a note of which blogs bite the dust, and which ones people actually READ!

The Lighter Side Of Divorce

     One of the beautiful things about divorce is that you don't have to put up with shithead in law's anymore. All the restraints you've languished under all those years are now removed, and you can speak freely. I've found that since my last divorce, wait a minute. . .Charsa, Barbara, Mary, no not her, I forgot to divorce her, Brenda, and finally Pamela, I think Pam's family took the cake. Oh damn! I got them out of sequence, make Brenda number two. 

     I can honestly say that most of my many I laws and I got along, but then, I wasn't around long enough for them to know me. But I had over twenty-five years to get to know ALL of Pam's family, and the one word I can apply is consistent. Her mother became a widow early in my marriage to her daughter. Now, I'd like to mix in two ingredients here. These folks are from Arkansas, and they are Mormon. Already funny, huh. 

     Starting with "Mom," every conversation was an effort to convert me. Now I'm not going into a rant about their faith, but I will say that every encounter you have with a Mormon in law is, well, MORMON. And there is no winning. You give up on that from the beginning. In fact, even trying to placate them, and agree, giving them insight doesn't work either. They march to their own drummer and unless you are in the fold you simply cannot succeed. Now I must add that when "Mom" became a widow she quickly married a man who was devout Roman Catholic, whereupon she had a vision, and  converted. 

     And she was the holiest of holies. After observing her conversion I stopped going to mass. When Pam and I divorced I spoke to her one time and God has granted me the grace of never hearing her voice again. That was preferred over Pam's younger brother. 

     This guy was a motor mouth on jet fuel. He would launch into a speech at any get together, and it was always about how great he was, and about his Mormon faith. If u could put him in a category it would be, "clueless." I actually debated this guy but eventually gave it up when I realized I was dancing with myself. His wife's constant ejaculation on opinion gave me ideas for many funny articles and videos. One such idea was telling me I was going to jail for showing a picture of marijuana in a joke video. When caught in such a stupid attack he would then turn aggressive and threaten punishment on everyone in the state of Texas. I think he's the one I enjoy being away from the most. Every now and then I will hear something he has said or done, and I get this warm fuzzy. Now he's dancing with himself. 

     And let's not forget little sister. I think I was supposed to marry her, or at least have a relationship with her to make babies for the clan. Now, when I married Pam this girl was hot, hot, hot, and at the time I didn't see any viable reason to talk their religion down, if you get my drift. Never panned out, however, because she was also crazy, crazy, crazy. Got her drunk one time, but that's another story. 

     Anyway, I'm free of all these people. Sometimes I actually miss them, but I've found a six pack and Frenchi generally cures those momentary lapses of lucidity. If I ever get married again she will have to be an orphan, with a total loss of memory.   Pictures of Marijuana

Martini's Greatest Hits

Here's a hodgepodge of things that go bump in the night.

I've really never claimed to be an expert on international affairs

Methods of War

Deliberate jab at Jackie's best friend who irritated the shit out of me

Petting a Pussy

I still don't know how the toilette paper got in the martini

Making the perfect martini

Boy, I caught it for this one. We call it the alcohol video. We'd get drunk, out it up, sober up, take it down. Jackie ate the weenies by the way. 

To Catch a Predetor

The National Pussy License Act

Jackie and I put this together. We were drunk. It came off real good until I met with a church sponsored adoption agency and SOMEONE gave them the wrong website!


The National Pussy License Act

Dr Phil's Book

Reading Dr. Phil's book, Real Life. Going through the last two years have been real life for me so I thought, "Good old' Dr. Phil will show me the way!" I settled on the chapter called Adaptability Breakdlown. As I read through the chapter I couldn't find anything that applied to me. Then I read the chapter on anxiety. Nada!  Tried fear, mental disorders, and existential crises and there were no matches, but I KNOW I'm fucked up!  I mean, who the hell loses a wife, five grand kids, three mansions and a Mercedes and walks away with a martini and a silly grin on his face?  Then it hit me. I'm blazing new territory. Just like when they changed shell shock to PTSD, I have a whole new disorder, born of the recession, customized for the 21st century. Don'tgiveashititus! 

The way I see it a lot of us are so fucked that we know it just wastes time worrying about it. We'll probably not live long enough to ever see a dollar worth a dollar again, and forget about employment. Hell! Even bank robbers can't find gainful employment. The banks are full of Federal Reserve Notes. Want a big nice car?  Forget about it. Good luck filling the tank. So you get a don't give a shit attitude. 

The only constant is pussy. If you're a dirty old man (which I am) you can use some pretty moldy, time honored tricks on younger girls to achieve at least a one night stand. To wit:

1. "I'm really a homosexual and just want to be your friend."

2. "I have ED but I like to cuddle."

3. "I am afraid of contracting an STD so I will only use my finger."

4. "It's called a Martini, and the beautiful thing about it is the Vermouth neutralizes the gin...have another."

5.  And last but not least, "My God girl!  You're young enough to be my grand daughter. What kind of a man do you think I am?"

Older women are actually better but they're smart. You have to invest time and time is a two way street. The more time you invest in developing a relationship the more time you have to invest to decompress said involvement. 

But, a healthy, young woman will generally relieve Don'tgiveashititus because at least the relationship between a man and a woman in private has remained unchanged unless you're in California. The cure for the syndrome?  Well, there is none. Sadly it's terminal. Once you fully realize the futility of worrying about shit that you can do nothing about nothing can ever pull the wool over your eyes again. You actually become, well, FREE!

So Dr. Phil needs to add a chapter to his book. Maybe two. A chapter on pussy would be nice. 

Welcome To The Peckerwood Press

For all the seriousness I put into my blogs I need to have one that feeds my diviant side. This is why I write funny, rude songs. I have a bad case of FUCK IT!  When things get so so silly, so out of control, the Texas side of me takes hold and I write something that makes my readers say, "God Damn! Did he really SAY that?". In a lot of my blogs frankly, I pussy foot a bit. I learned political correctness out in California, and I can maintain for a while, but then there's this pop off valve somewhere in my ass that has a whole bunch of common sense. I will say things that I eat later, but I survive. Anyway this is the blog. I think some ofbyounwill like it, and I apologize in advance to those who don't. This is the Mr Hyde side of my personality. Hope you get a smile.

Like Us!