Jack Kukoda

So I don’t know how I missed this since I claim to be an expert on Buffalo and all things Buffalo-related, but my hometown elected a new mayor this fall. I don’t know much about him, but he seems nice enough from this article. And he probably couldn’t be any worse than our old mayor, who was notoriously dumb. Moreover, the new mayor, Byron W. Brown, is black. I think that’s a pretty good step for Buffalo, which for a Northeastern/Midwestern city has a pretty bad record when it comes to race-relations. Not really sure why, but it does.

In the interest of full disclosure, as well as Jack Kukoda-trumpeting, right after I graduated college I got a job with a newspaper that played a prank on the old mayor by convincing him that he was going to play a small part on the Sopranos. I forget the exact details of how it was pulled off, but I do know it involved sending him a small horse statue that we said was made by James Spader. Swear to God.

Not an actual sculpter.

In another instance I tricked the mayor into posing for a picture with me when I was clearly on drugs. We then published said photo with a caption stating that I was on drugs, which eventually led to my being fired from a shitty restaurant job. Salad days, man. Salad days. I’ll post both of those stories if I can find an online archive for the paper. Or maybe I’ll scan the original stories from my back issues. Probably neither, actually.

Oh, Buffalo, how I long for your wintry embrace! I’ll see you soon, this Thursday to be precise, when I fly home for Christmas. If there are any ladies reading this that will be in the Western New York area around Dec. 25th, give me a call and I will sex you good. And you can take that to the bank.

Cute Names For Dogs Dressed In Christmas Outfits.

1. Santa Paws
2. Pant-a Claus
There are no other cute names for dogs dressed in Christmas outfits.

If you liked that one, wait’ll you get a load of this doozy.

Rejected Nogs Before They Came Up With Egg Nog.

1. Leg Nog
2. Bacon Nog
3. Greg Nog
That’s all. They actually came up with the formula for egg nog relatively quickly after only a few unsuccessful attempts.

Merry Christmas, Internet.

Well, not just gave it away. It actually occurred over the weekend. Saturday night I showed up at a Christmas party just as it was ending. That was pretty awkward. But not nearly as awkward as when I took a whole smoked turkey out of my bag and presented it to the host. The four people still at the party were somewhat wary of me and the turkey, but they ate it anyway. It actually made for a pretty good conversation piece.

THEM: Hey, so you’re the guy who brought the turkey, huh?

ME: Sure am.

THEM: It’s pretty good. Smoky.

ME: Yup, that’s the mesquite.

THEM: So…you want some free gold?

ME: As a matter of fact, I would.

THEM: (Giving me gold) Here you go.

ME: (Quietly to myself, while pumping fist) Score!

It’s like I always say: If you’re going to show up just as a party is ending, make sure you bring some smoked meats. Guys, back me up, you know I ALWAYS say that.

Earlier: I Just Received A Free Turkey.

The Starting Defensive Line
AKA “Affirmative Action”

Clockwise from top left: Chris Kelsay, Justin Bannan, Tim Anderson, Aaron Schobel*.

What other reason could there be for starting four slow, unathletic, whiteD-linemen unless there’s some sort of entitlement program designed to level the proverbial playing field? I thought the NFL’s Diversity Program only applied to coaches, but apparently it extends to defensive ends and tackles, too. By the way, this was the unit that was on the field in the Bills’ latest embarrassment, this time to the Broncos. Oh, Bills! Why do I love you so when all you do is break my heart?!

*In fairness, Aaron Schobel is actually pretty good. This is the second straight season that he’s recorded ten or more sacks, becoming only the second player in Bills history to do so. Who was the first? You’re goddamn right it was Bruce Smith.

More Buffalo Bills Nicknames

So you know how when you and your friends are watching a game on TV and they show a particularly ugly player, and someone makes a joke about it and then the conversation turns to the question of who the ugliest athlete in professional sports is? And everyone says Popeye Jones or George Muresan or Randy Johnson? Well, that argument is over thanks to this man.

Introducing Nikolay Valuev, a 7-foot Russian boxer that looks like a cross between a Siberian Bear and a Frankensteinesque monster cobbled together from the body parts of cadavers. Ugly cadavers.

I mean, wow. Just look at him. And I don’t know if you can tell by these pictures, but he’s covered in body hair from head to toe. If you’re curious where he got that fancy belt in these photos, you can read about it here. Apparently it was quite controversial, but I don’t know shit about boxing so I won’t pretend to understand it.

From Yahoo News:

‘West Wing’ Actor John Spencer Dies at 58

John Spencer, who played a dedicated politico on “The West Wing” who survived a serious illness to run for vice president, died of a heart attack Friday, his publicist said.

These guys played my college spring fling! They were awesome!

What, too soon?

West Wing Actor Dead at 58 (Yahoo News)
Related: Jon Spencer Blues Explosion

Roscoe Parrish, WR #11
AKA “The Sheriff”

Whew. Nothing like starting out on the right foot. I’ll admit this is not the greatest nickname, but I don’t really know all that much about Roscoe except for the fact that he shares his first name with sheriff from The Dukes of Hazzard. And the fact that the Bills used their first pick in last year’s draft on an undersized receiver/return man when they already have a 1st round receiver and the best return man in the league.

Some would say it’s decisions like this that have the editorial page of the Buffalo News calling for the firing of GM Tom Donahoe. But not me. I’d say it has more to do with things like blowing a 20 point 4th quarter lead to a Dolphins team led by Sage Rosenfels. That’s right. The same Sage Rosenfels who last year had more fumbles(2) than touchdown passes(1). Go ahead, look it up.

Someone at work received a whole smoked turkey for their work on a project in Texas and gave it to me! In Texas, apparently, the preferred form of currency is smoked meats rather than US dollars. You’re so crazy, Texas! Don’t ever change!

Yesterday, I got home from work and boy, was I in a good mood. I had finally gotten this site up, I was on my way to see a friend at a reading series, and Christmas is just around the corner! I tell you this because my pleasant demeanor was probably the only thing that prevented me from going absolutely crazy with rage yesterday.

You see, I came home, turned on the television and went to the kitchen to get something to eat. When I opened the refrigerator I happened to notice that one of the burners on the stove was on at about medium heat.

“Hmm,” I thought. “Did I start cooking something in the 30 seconds that I’ve been home? Nope, pretty sure I haven’t.”

Then it dawned on me that it must have been someone else. Now, I’ve never claimed to be a world class investigator, but I have seen some Poirot movies, so I figured I would use my excellent reasoning skills to discover who left the gas burner on.

“A burglar, perhaps?” Probably not, I reasoned, as nothing from the apartment was missing and most burglars don’t leave obvious calling cards like this. On the other hand…

“We’re the wet bandits!”

That left only one other suspect: my roommate. From the clues left in the sink, I was able to recreate the crime scene. But first, a little backstory.

Because my roommate was an only child, he has a number of deficiencies when it comes to taking care of himself. I can’t count the number of times he’s lost his keys, he often wears mesh shorts instead of underwear because he can’t do laundry, and, most importantly to the present case, he’s only capable of cooking 2 things: hamburgers and spaghetti.

Now, back to the case.

The dried-spaghetti enrcusted pot atop the stove was a dead giveaway. Same thing with the small sauce pan in the sink. And the leftover spaghetti in the fridge.

Evidence!

Apparently my roommate made himself spaghetti, sat down and ate it not five feet from the stove, then left for work. All of this while the gas burner burned away because he never turned it off. Here’s the best part: He left for work around noon and I didn’t get home until 6:30! That’s 6 and a half hours of flames going unchecked!

Had I been in a worse mood, I would have taken a dump in his pillowcase to teach him a lesson in responsibility and apartment safety measures. Actually, I still might.

The firestarter, by the way, is the same person who has been published in a book that’s available on Amazon. So buy his book. But don’t let him housesit for you.

So I guess when everyone makes their first blog post they write something self-consciously modest like, “I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I hope you’ll take this journey with me.” Or “I don’t know what makes me think I should have one of these, but everybody else seems to, so…”

Well, fuck that. And fuck those people. That’s like trying to pet an alligator before you wrestle him. When it comes to the Internet(yes, it’s capitalized) you don’t dip one toe in like a girl afraid of a cold pool. You dive in headfirst without checking if it’s the shallow end or the deep end. At least that’s how I enter pools. And I got a shiny ass wheelchair to prove it.

So when I got myself my own personalized website(I’ve made two others for projects I’m involved in-more on that later) I went all the way. Registered my last name and last name only. That’s right! No extraneous words clogging up my URL, homes. Just kukoda.com. No tripod, or typepad, or blogspot, or .uk.co, which I think is from Canada or something. I went big time with this address because, well, that’s just how I do things.

Unfortunately, though, I am at a loss when it comes to doing anything but writing simple blog posts. But when I learn more, oh boy! Just watch out. There’s going to be all kinds of stuff on here like photos and videos and show listings…and…I guess that’s it. But it will all be of the highest quality. Or at least offensive. Hilarious, award-winning quality or race riot-provoking offensiveness. Those are pretty good options, my friend. You could do a lot worse.

Oh, and to the other 50 or so Kukodas living in the United States who are disappointed that I got the exlusive web rights to our beautiful last name, let me say this: that’s what happens when you try to pet an alligator. He turns around and bites your hand off. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go think up some more grandiose, yet convoluted metaphors for myself.