Thursday, July 30, 2009

Please!!!! Somebody put a gun to my head and put me out of my misery. Last night I had to sit across from Lou Bacher and hear him go on and on about how insignificant we all are. Lou, I've got news for you, we're significant, you, on the other hand, are replaceable. He just kept talking like he was giving us the keys to the kingdom, pearls from his fruitful years on the planet. Lou, if you've got so much insight, insight me this, why can't you grow hair? Look Lou, I've got a small, imperceivable place in my vastly overcrowded heart for you, but please, you may be Jewish but you're not Moses descending from the mountaintop, stone tablets in hand, ready to lead your people out of bondage (a particular favorite of mine) into the land of milk and honey (mind you, I'm lactose intolerant). In the words of the Great Liberator of the Jews : "Let my people go" from the torment of hearing Lou wax philospical on a Wednesday night. Lou, leave the bad advice to the professionals.

15 comments:

  1. Conor, If I had known you were sitting at the same table I was last night, I would have changed tables. Like most of your "friends" in town, I can handle only about 30 seconds of your pontificating BS at a time. If you had actually listened to what I was saying, instead of starting to formulate your cretan like thoughts, the insignificance I was talking about was the insignificance of every role you've ever played and line you ever uttered on and off a stage. And, for your information, I could grow hair if I wanted to, I just don't want to.
    You're basically an unpleasant fellow (very suitable for your current
    literary endeavors), whatever decent looks you ever had, have faded
    and it's sad you have to pick on senior citizens to draw a little attention to yourself.
    I accept your tearful apology. The flowers were overkill but a nice gesture. By the way, what time are you going to be around for coffee tomorrow. I have a few more theories I want to share with you.

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  2. Bravo Lou, Elaine must be there with you now because it appears you took your balls from her purse and reattached them to your overly wrinkled body. My hat is off to you, exposing my full head of hair, your retort possesses a brilliance far beyond your unusually low IQ. Let's be honest, I'm not just "basically" an unpleasant person, I'm a totally unpleasant person. Also, I never had "decent looks", I had stunning looks and they were usually from guys like you. Bravo Lou, the game is on.

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  3. waiting to be challengedJuly 30, 2009 at 5:59 PM

    Conor, You ignorant slut. Do you really think for even a moment that you are any competition for me? You're like the bullies in High School who bragged about their conquests, while everyone knew they were full of it. Talking loud doesn't mean what you have to say has any value. What are you now? 61 or 62 years old. You'd think you'd have a clue by now. But let's get serious. Is there any thing you really have to say other than your babble at the Aroma bar that you put people to sleep with? You're the bloody cure for insomnia. Too bad you can't bottle it. Have a nice day.

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  4. Excellent volley gentlrmen. A perfect adherence to the Marquis of Queensberry Rules of engagement. I trust not a single hair was lost in the exchange? Athough, I still can't decide who the biggest queensberry is.

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  5. Please leave my balls out of your volley. Ms.Broho

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  6. Dear Frank and Connor,

    My boss is a slave driver. He actually expects me to work at Cafe Aroma as much as possible. The problem is, how can I ever get anything done while I am there? There are just too many distractions-- to name a few--the bearded lady, always coming to greet me, the constant vigilance necessary to protect my meal from the idyll-beast, Dean Martin singing in the bathroom, and the crazy Jewish lady that shows up everyday with her new iPhone-Oy Vey!

    What should I do?

    -Gump

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  7. Dear Frank and Conor,

    I had planned a bromatic dinner with my partner at Aroma. Unfortunately, it was on a Wednesday evening and the brazen belly dancers were performing. Now, my partner wants me to wear only coin bras, sleazy skirts and feather head dresses. I must undulate my belly and carry a
    basket for him to give me my grocery money! Please help me. Broho

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  8. one of the bromanticsJuly 31, 2009 at 5:24 PM

    Dear Lon,

    John would never expect that of you. I, however, would love to see it.

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  9. Dear Gump,Your boss is a slave driver.The question here is do you enjoy being a slave? At Cafe Aroma,every diner is my boss and they can be pretty tough on me. I've been made to defile works of art like the Blu Pine Salad with substitutions like mozzerella and raunch dressing. I sometimes sob in the shower late at night for hours, trying to wash away the stench of compromise.How anybody can get anything productive acomplished on that island of lost boys that passes itself off as a restaraunt is beyond me. I'll take Dean Martin singing in the bathroom over the Britney Spears bobble head in the kitchen chanting"OOPS! I did it again", over and over. Talk about undermining a cooks self confidence.P.S. I honestly don't believe the lady with the Oy-phone is really jewish,I think she she just acts that way to be popular with the boys.

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  10. Yo Broho, I feel your pain.I too have been reduced to jiggling for bisotti at home.Here's the good news. Bad advice in the morning studios is producing a new reality show "SO YOU THINK YOU CAN BELLY DANCE' for the fox network this fall. And "SO YOU THINK YOU CAN HULA- HOOP " later in the spring. Your welcome to stop by the Cafe and audition anytime after midnight , Monday thru Friday. Meals will be provided.

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  11. Dear Frank, There is a Hula Hooping, Belly Dancing Cougar looking for a job for a few weeks at Aroma. No lunch meat, or large kosher salami served. Please provide a walker and oxygen for her auditon. Ms. Broho

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  12. Dear Frank,
    Has your depressed bro gone back to Budapest for a well needed refresher course?
    Hopefully he'll be advised to lose his spandex bicycle shorts. He gives new meaning to the old, "Where's the Meat" catch phrase.

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  13. Dear just curious, What's wrong ? My advice not bad enough for you? As to your question "Where's the Meat ?" Conor gets asked that every time he wears those spandex bicycle shorts.

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  14. Dear Just Curious,
    interesting psuedonym you've chosen, a bit telling, don't you think? Richard Simmons started "just curious" and look where he ended up. As to my short absence from my children here at Bad Advice, I was in Wyoming teaching a wilderness course on how to kill an elk with a dull nail clipper and then how to dress it out with a potato peeler. In Wyoming they refer to me as, "man who can kill anything...and also fills out his buckskins". But don't worry you whiny little cottontail, I'm back and ready with the unsympathetic advice only a man packing for bear can give.

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  15. Thanks guys. Wow, This is old material. Never saw it before. Found it seeing if you would show up if I Googled you. Wow, Bad Advice in the Morning AND in the afternoon. How balance my chemicals. Again, thanks

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