The Passion of the Chris

‘The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm’ by Chris Gay

It’s a Wonderful Life is a treasured celluloid classic, with its annual broadcast eagerly anticipated by many. However regardless of the typical happy Hollywood ending, many viewers are still left unsatisfied with the evil Mr. Potter nearly ruining George Bailey’s life out of pure greed only to get off scot-free.

This humor blog post/sequel seeks to address that issue by theorizing what may have occurred after the good tidings wore off. We pick up the story just after George is given the money, and the townsfolk have finished singing their rendition of Auld Lang Syne in the Bailey’s living room.

By Chris Gay

“Oh, George. Wasn’t this just the most wonderful surprise?! The town really came through for us tonight; I couldn’t be more proud.”

“Yeah. They did. Could you hand me my hat, Mary?”

“Your hat? Where could you possibly be going?”

As George buttoned up his overcoat he turned to Mary and, under the cover of the drunken revelry in the background, answered her.

“When these guys sober up tomorrow they’re gonna realize how much dough they just coughed up here tonight. And in the clear light of day and without the influence of Christmas and its spirits, they’re gonna be irked.”

“Whatever do you mean, George? These people love you; they’d never ask for the money back!”

“Maybe not. But from here on out every time I stop into Martini’s for a cold one, I’m gonna hear his cracks about how he “busted the jukebox” for me. You think Sam Wainwright’s gonna ever let me live down that offer of $25K? I’ll be hearing that damn “Hee haw” line till the end of my days. No. Wherever I go in this town I’ll see the looks; the stares. And the people pouring into the Building and Loan trying to guilt me into dropping the interest rate on their mortgage. I’ll never live this down.”

As Mary had made no move to get his hat, he stepped around her, picked it up off the desk, and put it on.

“That’s an awful way to think, George! How could you? These people are your friends! And even if what you’ve said were true, how would trudging out into the snow solve anything?”

“It won’t, Mary.” He paused momentarily to scoop a mug of rum-soaked eggnog out of the bowl, and then downed in two quick gulps.

“But Uncle Billy finally remembered about the eight-thousand. That idiotic simpleton just handed it right to Potter. And that evil bastard just sat there in his office and mocked me while I begged him for a loan. He had my cash the whole time! The son of a bitch even called the sheriff!”

Mary put her hand to her mouth in surprise. “Oh my God. That’s…awful.”

“You’re damn right it is. I’ll be back in a while, Mary. Save me some of that turkey in the icebox, will ya?”

“Wait, George. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find that bastard and take eight-thousand dollars out of his ass!”

“You can’t!”

“I can. And save me some gravy, too.” With that George pushed his way through the crowd of inebriated do-gooders toward his front door, opened it, and stepped through.

Bedford Falls, Bedford River Bridge

The snowfall had intensified as Mr. Potter’s car pulled to a stop at the toll taker’s cabin in front of the Bedford River Bridge.

Before it could proceed, George Bailey stepped out of the shadows and walked to its front bumper. There he stopped, remaining silent and stationary. The lanky 6’4” banker, standing there in his hat and overcoat, made for an imposing figure.

From the back seat of his car, Henry F. Potter squinted as he tried to make out the the identity of the man before them.

“Joe, check it out.”

“Yes, sir.” As Joe exited, Potter rolled down his window enough to be able to hear the upcoming exchange.

Once out of the car, Joe recognized the man now facing him. Knowing that he had, George broke the momentary silence between them.

“I’m not here for you, Joe. Sit your ass back in that driver’s seat.”

“You know I can’t do that, Bailey. Either back up, or you’re going down.”

“Not tonight, bitch.”

From the open window in the rear of the car, Potter’s raspy voice cut through the wind.

“Bailey? What are you doing here? Get out of the way and let us pass!”

“Listen up, Potter. I know what you did and you’re gonna pay, you avaricious ass-clown. Just as soon as I dust your pet goon here.”

Potter went quiet as the grave, and only the roar of the Bedford River could be heard as George sized up Potter’s bulky manservant. Joe had the build and oft-broken nose of a man who may have boxed at one time or another.

But since that information was never disclosed in the story or on the DVD liner notes, he had no way of knowing for sure.

As the chauffer moved toward him, George realized the best approach was to go on the offensive. As soon as they were face to face he slugged him in the gut, causing Joe to double over. Immediately George followed the blow with an uppercut to the chin, knocking his opponent backward where he laid sprawled out on the hood of the car.

With the bout over, Bailey walked around the side of the car toward the back seat. He stood on the narrow sidewalk, his back two feet from the low steel barrier of the bridge he’d jumped off only hours earlier. He looked into the automobile and locked eyes with his nemesis.

“Your turn,” he growled in a sinister, yet still awkwardly shrill voice. As he reached for the door he noticed at the last second Joe lumbering at him through the snow like a linebacker; albeit not a very good one.

George used Joe’s own momentum against him by lowering his torso so that when Joe struck him it was shoulder to waist. In one beautiful maneuver Bailey stood up, bringing the butler with him. He hoisted him six feet off the ground, and then neatly flipped him over the guardrail, sending him plunging headlong into the raging, frigid waters of the river below.

Having fallen into the guardrail in the process of dispatching the caretaker, George got up, dusted the snow off his pants, and resumed walking toward Potter’s car door. Just then, he heard a voice to his left. Turning, he saw that it came from the cherubic of his guardian angel, Clarence Odbody, AS2.

“You can’t do this, George. You know that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t get my wings if you do.”

“Jesus, man. Is that all you ever think about you, selfish SOB? After three hundred years, did you ever think that maybe you’re not cut out to be an angel? Maybe you could be a heavenly custodian or librarian. It’s obvious you’re too incompetent for the position.”

Clarence shrugged at him sheepishly. “It’s for the benefits, mostly. With your wings you get full dental and vision coverage.”

It was then that Potter chimed in. “Do I need to be here for this? Why don’t you guys go down to Gower’s drugstore, get a malted, and talk it out.”

George turned toward him. “Shut up, Hank. I’m going to tear you a new one.”

“Wait, George Bailey! I can explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. You took my money.”

“Yes, yes I did. I took it. But it wasn’t my fault.”

From behind them, Clarence seconded Potter. “He’s right, George. It isn’t his fault.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” He shouted, flustered.

“I had to take it, George. It was in the script.”

“The what?!”

“The script, George” echoed Clarence, who then took over the narrative.

“There is no Mr. Potter. That’s Lionel Barrymore. There’s no real snow, no Building and Loan, no Mary. She’s Donna Reed. In fact, it was supposed to be Jean Arthur in her part, anyway. There’s no eight-thousand dollars. And ‘Uncle Billy’ isn’t really a simpleton. In fact, he played the intellectual opposite to your own naïve congressman just seven years back in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.”

“Don’t you remember, George?” Potter continued for Clarence. “You’re not even “George.” You’re Jimmy Stewart, a war hero from Indiana, Pennsylvania.”

George looked around for a moment, stunned. Then at last, he spoke. “So that’s why it’s snowing laundry soap in 90 degree weather; and why Mr. Gower looks so much like that guy who played Jesus Christ in The King of Kings.”

“Yes,” Potter jumped in. “I myself have played Ebenezer Scrooge several times. Hell, my great-niece was in E.T. Anyway, tomorrow the storefront sets come down, and you’ll go back to your comfortable home.”

George Bailey turned back to look at Clarence, as if to look for some further confirmation. “Clarence?”

“No, I’m Henry Travers. Soon, you’ll marry a model and live fifty more years. You see George, you really have a wonderful life.”

“I guess…I guess I do at that.”

“You’ve been given a great gift George. A chance to see what this sequel would’ve been like if it had been made in the 1990’s. All Steven Seagal-ish and whatnot.”

“Yes, I see. So what now Clarence? How do we fix this for the movie?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one of those cheesy dream sequences that sucked on Dallas but worked surprisingly well on Newhart. Anyhow, I’m an actor, not a writer. What the hell do I care?”

“And Joe?”

“He’s fine. He landed on a mat and then headed off to the commissary for lunch.”

“Tell you what,” Potter said, “let’s get out of here and head out for a few beers.”

“Sounds good to me,” Clarence said as the three of them walked off the set together. “By the way, Jimmy; where did you come up with “avaricious ass-clown”?

“I don’t know. I guess the line came from the guy writing this blog piece. Catchy though, ain’t it?”

The three of them shared a hearty laugh in agreement as the scene faded to black.

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

* * * *

Featuring such taste-bud tempting recipes as:

Popcorn Salad

Meat on a Bed of Rice

Cheese and Crackers

Spaghetti Sandwich

Plus Miscellaneous Cookbook Humor, too!

* * * *

Chris Gay is an author, freelance writer, voice-over artist, broadcaster and actor. He writes and broadcasts a daily, minute radio humor spot in Hartford, Connecticut. He’s also written the paranormal, theological thriller novel Ghost of a Chance and three humor books: And That’s the Way It Was…Give or Take: A Daily Dose of My Radio Writings, Shouldn’t Ice Cold Beer Be Frozen? My 365 Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota, and The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm. He’s been published nationally in Writer’s Digest and is currently writing his fourth and fifth humor books, Another Round of Ice Cold Beer: My 365 More Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota and Something Witty this Way Comes; the latter being a collection of pieces written for his humor blog. His book Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal, is an original, extraordinary short story on the great detective. Also, he’s writing the Ghost of a Chance sequel Perdition’s Wrath, and has written and voiced radio commercials, authored both comedic and non-comedic freelance articles, scripts, press releases, website, media and technical content, done occasional radio color commentary for local sports, and acted in a couple of movies and plays. His website is chrisjgay.com, and his humor blog can be found at chrisgay.wordpress.com.

Twitter: @chrisgay13

Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

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on November 25, 2013 at 12:41 am Leave a Comment
Tags: Auld Lang Syne, Bailey, broadcaster, Chris Gay, chrisgay.net, chrisjgay.com, Christmas, Christopher Gay, Christopher J Gay, Clarence Odbody, comedy, Connecticut, CT, Freelance Writer, George, George Bailey, Hartford, Hartford Connecticut, Holidays, humor, Humour, It's a Wonderful Life, Manchester, New England, Potter, Radio advertisement, sarcasm, thepassionofthechris.com, Voice acting, voice-over artist, writer, Writer's Digest

A Fabricated History of the First Thanksgiving

‘The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm’ by Chris Gay

Each November, millions of families and friends get together to give thanks on a holiday conveniently created for that very purpose. (October, if you’re Canadian. But that’s another faux history.) In honor of Thanksgiving, I’ve written a brief, albeit fictitious, history of Turkey Day. Enjoy.

The Freedom to Shop

During the early years of the 17th Century, Englishmen and women were subject to the overtly restrictive shopping guidelines set by the British Crown. When traveling out to purchase cheap, unnecessary trinkets for the upcoming Christmas holiday, the King’s subjects were limited to the few Royal strip malls that were mainly located around suburban London.

Most of the citizenry complied so as not to rock the boat, but for some who felt they should have the freedom to purchase as they saw fit, the frustration began to mount. These people were labeled “Pilgrims”, for their desire to be granted the right to make “Pilgrimages” to the United Kingdom’s big box stores deemed off-limits to the common folk.

The Secret Plan

These brave Pilgrims began to meet in secret to discuss ways to throw off the King’s heavy yoke, and end his persecution of purchasers purchasing unsanctioned purchases. Eventually, they opted to form a new settlement on the distant shores of the New World…America. But the burning question was, how could they ever afford a ship and the cost of supplies? Then, one day, it hit them. Sponsorship.

The Mayflower Compact

Ultimately, they were able to carry out their plan with sponsorship money from multiple sources. First, they contracted with the Mayflower Moving and Storage Company. This allowed them to stock the boat with food, clothing and first aid in exchange for the ship’s naming rights. Later, this became known as the Mayflower Compact.

The ship itself was built by materials donated by The Home Depot on the condition that upon arrival in Virginia, (the colony they were originally slated to settle in) the Pilgrims would grant them exclusivity rights to the entire Chesapeake Bay region. And also that the official Virginia state motto be permanently changed to “More Saving. More Doing. That’s the power of the Home Depot.”

The Voyage to America

In the summer of 1620, the Mayflower and her crew loaded on two sets of travelers; the British Shopping Separatists, and another group from Holland. The latter assemblage was added because the ship’s Captain, Christopher Jones, (No relation) thought the trip would go much smoother and the passengers more manageable if everyone on board had a steady supply of Dutch cocoa…and those tasty, cool-looking windmill cookies.

The trip lasted several long, arduous months, with the crew and passengers alike suffering everything from Cabin Fever to Scurvy. In fact, this might’ve been the one time a group of people would’ve been ecstatic if Life had handed them lemons. (Trust me, that joke will get funnier the more you think about it. Unless you’re stupid.)

At long last, the Mayflower came upon Cape Cod, Massachusetts, where it dropped anchor on November 21st. Captain Jones and future Plymouth Colony Governor William Bradford went ashore with a search party to find a Denny’s, as well as a place to establish their permanent settlement.

The question of why they didn’t continue south as planned was answered by Bradford’s journal entry dated 21 November 1620: “T’is unbearably cold. The journey took months longer than anticipated, and we are completely out of beer. Screw Virginia, I’ve decreed that we shall settle right here. Sorry, Home Depot. You win some, you lose some.”

Land Ahoy!

In early spring 1621, the remaining passengers joined the scouting parties on shore and built cabins on their new settlement grounds. Shortly thereafter, an English-speaking Native American named Samoset came by to welcome the settlers at the Plymouth Colony. He asked William Bradford if there was anything he could get them and, according to witnesses, Bradford replied: “Sure. How about some pumpkins, a little squash, a few turkeys…and the entire Eastern Seaboard?”

With the help of another English-speaking Native American, Squanto, the Pilgrims were able to not only successfully farm the land, but also pour the foundation for the very first Papa Gino’s fast food pizzeria in North America.

Summer of 1621

Throughout the summer of 1621, the Pilgrims labored furiously to erect their dream settlement. By early July, they had already constructed an Applebee’s, Ruby Tuesday’s and, for a taste of home, Arthur Treacher’s Fish & Chips.

By late August, the ‘Plymouth Colony Mall & Buckle-Focused Haberdashery’ was completed in its entirety. Its grand opening featured a ribbon-cutting ceremony attended by Neil Diamond, who happily performed ‘Sweet Caroline’ for the assembled crowd.

The First Thanksgiving

In November, Plymouth governor William Bradford extended an invitation to Wampanoag chief Massasoit (namesake of Massachusetts) to join the Pilgrims at a banquet to celebrate the success of their initial harvest, as well as the completion of the glamorous new mall and adjacent 18-theater Movie Cineplex.

For the main feast, Massasoit sent four men to the North Truro Boston Market (then known as Boston Chicken) to pick up the dinner they’d called ahead and ordered the day before. Bradford had planned to make popcorn as an appetizer, until his wife reminded him that they’d left their microwave oven back in England.

When they returned, the Pilgrims and Wampanoags gorged themselves on turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes with gravy, cole slaw and the awesome macaroni and cheese Boston Market makes using that spiraled pasta.

Dessert was Dutch apple pie (forgot about that Holland group, didn’t you?) with a topping choice of Hood Cookie Dough ice cream, or Cool Whip.

Post-Feast Activities

After the meal had been eaten and the plastic plates and utensils placed in the recycling bin, the members of both groups retired indoors to watch the Dallas Cowboys play the Detroit Lions on a 52-inch HDTV Bradford had bought from Best Buy. By halftime, the effects of the poultry’s tryptophan kicked in and both the Wampanoags and Pilgrims alike had passed out asleep on the floor, and the three available couches.

Later that evening, both groups toasted each other continuously with huge mugs of Narragansett beer until Bradford broke up the party, announcing that he needed a few more hours of shuteye so he’d be rested enough to fight through the early morning Black Friday crowds.

The Day After

That Friday afternoon, after all the shopping had been done and the Christmas trees set up throughout the settlement, Bradford gathered his people around the ‘McDonald’s Gazebo’ in the middle of the ‘State Farm Insurance Town Square’ to address them

An excerpt from his journal entry that day chronicles his speech:

“Fellow Englishmen and Hollandaise; no wait, I think that’s a sauce. Fellow Englishmen and Dutch persons. Today we gather to celebrate the completion of a dream. We have at long last shaken off the reigns of Great Britain and here, in the New World, we can now shop where we choose without fear. This is what America is all about: Commerce. The freedom to buy what we want, where we want, when we want and in the quantities we want. However, for no reason whatsoever, aside from perhaps the perpetual annoyance of this blog post’s author, I resolve that liquor stores in the Colony of Connecticut will remain closed on Sundays for the next 400 years. Amen.”

And that my friends, is the fabricated history of the first Thanksgiving.

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

* * * *

Featuring such taste-bud tempting recipes as:

Popcorn Salad

Meat on a Bed of Rice

Cheese and Crackers

Spaghetti Sandwich

Plus Miscellaneous Cookbook Humor, too!

* * * *

Chris Gay is an author, freelance writer, voice-over artist, broadcaster and actor. For 7 years he wrote and broadcast a daily, minute radio humor spot in Hartford, Connecticut. He’s been published nationally in Writer’s Digest and has written the paranormal, theological thriller novel Ghost of a Chance, Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal, (an original, extraordinary short story on the great detective with a spectacular twist) and four humor books: And That’s the Way It Was…Give or Take: A Daily Dose of My Radio Writings, Shouldn’t Ice Cold Beer Be Frozen? My 365 Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota, and The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm & Another Round of Ice Cold Beer: My 365 More Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota. He’s written and voiced radio commercials, authored both comedic and non-comedic freelance articles, scripts, press releases, website, media and technical content, done occasional radio color commentary for local sports, and acted in a couple of movies and plays. His website is chrisjgay.com, and his humor blog can be found at chrisgay.wordpress.com.

Twitter: @chrisgay13

Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

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on November 8, 2013 at 12:37 am Leave a Comment
Tags: broadcaster, Cape Cod, Chris Gay, chrisgay.net, chrisjgay.com, Christmas, Christopher Gay, Christopher J Gay, christopherjgay.com, comedy, Connecticut, CT, Food, Freelance Writer, Hartford, Hartford Connecticut, History, Home Depot, humor, Manchester, Mayflower, New England, Pilgrim, Plymouth Colony, Radio advertisement, sarcasm, Sherlock Holmes, Television, Thanksgiving, thepassionofthechris.com, United States, Voice acting, voice-over artist, William Bradford, writer, Writer's Digest

Halloween Fun: My Obituary

‘The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm’ by Chris Gay

October 31, 2137

Hartford County: Gay, Christopher J

Chris Gay, the local bestselling author and hugely popular radio/television personality who was well known for maintaining ruggedly-handsome good looks throughout his lifetime, passed away this morning at 165.

He leaves behind his impossibly-buxom 31 year-old wife, who said of her husband’s passing, “It’s obvious God needed a talented right-wing for His hockey team and He just couldn’t wait any longer.”

Christopher James Gay was born in Hartford, CT on July 21 to Susan and James Gay and, until Hollywood super-stardom came calling, had lived in Greater Hartford for most of his life.

For over two and a half decades, the 2002 Connecticut School of Broadcasting graduate worked soul-sucking jobs in retail and cubicle hell, where his disgust with political correctness, distaste for BS, and penchant for honesty kept him from advancement despite his titanic intellect.

He taught himself how to read by age four and, despite never having attended college, went on to become the literary voice of several generations. His talent for effortlessly shifting between comedy, sarcasm, and serious writing allowed him to provide a variety of literature to suit everyone’s tastes, and is what elevated him to his monumental status. It’s widely believed that he single-handedly reintroduced reading as a popular form of entertainment back into world’s consciousness.

His peerless voice and lightning-quick wit assured that he wouldn’t spend his lifetime entirely behind the keyboard. In 2014 his serious books Ghost of a Chance and Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal were optioned by Tinseltown, and subsequently made into blockbuster movies; ultimately winning Gay a pair of Best Screenplay Oscars for adapting his own books into scripts.

Having already appeared as a drunken lobsterman in the Meryl Streep/Tommy Lee Jones vehicle Hope Springs (2012) and a nearly illiterate 18^th Century constable in Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town, (2009) Gay was the obvious choice to star as the hero in both of his own films, as well. Indeed, Ghost of a Chance still holds the #2 all-time box office sales record, second only to its own sequel, Perdition’s Wrath; (2015) the movie version of which Gay also wrote and starred in.

With his popularity soaring, Gay later simultaneously became America’s #1 radio and television talk show host. But he never forgot his roots, writing thirty-nine more novels and humor books for his adoring fans; as well as doing all he could to bring attention to his beloved Greater Hartford.

As the saying goes, women wanted him, and men wanted to be him.

In 2016, after having gone from a lifetime of rags to multi-billionaire status, he bought an NHL expansion team for Hartford, CT, named it the Whalers, and became the team’s first GM and head coach. In 2017, he became the first man to ever coach a first-year expansion team to the Stanley Cup Championship and, in fact, scored the Cup-winning goal himself after deciding on a whim to suit up and take an overtime shift in Game 7.

His media dominance continued for decades and, having little desire for big city life, the born-and-bred New Englander instead spent most of his non-working time shuttling between his oceanside mansion in Maine, lakeside mansion in New Hampshire, and garden variety mansion in central Connecticut.

On his 100^th birthday, his home state honored him with a 21-foot solid gold statue on the grounds of the Old State House in Hartford, and also renamed a section of Manchester, CT “Christopherville.” In appreciation of the gestures, Gay arrived at the Old State House that day by water-skiing up the Connecticut River and performing an amazing jump onto its banks; where he then tossed $1,000,000 of his own money at intervals into the gathered crowd.

A lock of his incredibly thick hair-which never turned gray-and a picture of his sparkling blue eyes, will be placed on permanent display at the Smithsonian Institute so that future generations of women can see what they missed out on.

In 2086, Gay’s off-the-cuff suggestion to the Department of Agriculture resulted in an end to World Hunger.

To celebrate, he cut a song with the descendants of Stevie Wonder, Cyndi Lauper, Bruce Springsteen, and Dionne Warwick, which went double-platinum in its first week of release.

He donated his share of the profits to his fund for building heaters under I-84, so that Connecticut highway drivers could commute without fear of ice. Well, I mean going east and west, at least. He selflessly left I-91 as is, so that some other philanthropist would have the chance to get recognition for do-gooding.

Gay generously granted Medical Science’s request to be cryogenically frozen, in their hopes that they will someday be able to give him back to the world.

Reportedly, his last words were “I never did learn to iron properly; and I couldn’t care less. And incidentally, it’s “couldn’t.” When you say you “could care less,” it means that there is something you care less about, which is not what you’re trying to say. How could that not be obvious to everyone by now? And don’t get me started on ‘loser’ vs. ‘looser’ or ‘your’ vs. ‘you’re.’ It’s basic grammar, people; learn it!” After which, he expired peacefully.

In lieu of flowers, Chris Gay specifically left instructions asking mourners to buy dinner for random homeless people. That’s just the kind of guy he was.

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

* * * *

Featuring such taste-bud tempting recipes as:

Popcorn Salad

Meat on a Bed of Rice

Cheese and Crackers

Spaghetti Sandwich

Plus Miscellaneous Cookbook Humor, too!

* * * *

Chris Gay is an author, freelance writer, voice-over artist, broadcaster and actor. He writes and broadcasts a daily, minute radio humor spot in Hartford, Connecticut. He’s also written the paranormal, theological thriller novel Ghost of a Chance and three humor books: And That’s the Way It Was…Give or Take: A Daily Dose of My Radio Writings, Shouldn’t Ice Cold Beer Be Frozen? My 365 Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota, and The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm. He’s been published nationally in Writer’s Digest and is currently writing his fourth and fifth humor books, Another Round of Ice Cold Beer: My 365 More Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota and Something Witty this Way Comes; the latter being a collection of pieces written for his humor blog. His book Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal, is an original, extraordinary short story on the great detective. Also, he’s writing the Ghost of a Chance sequel Perdition’s Wrath, and has written and voiced radio commercials, authored both comedic and non-comedic freelance articles, scripts, press releases, website, media and technical content, done occasional radio color commentary for local sports, and acted in a couple of movies and plays. His website is chrisjgay.com, and his humor blog can be found at chrisgay.wordpress.com.

‘The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm’ by Chris Gay

Twitter: @chrisgay13

Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

Published in:

Uncategorized

on October 31, 2013 at 10:36 pm Leave a Comment
Tags: broadcaster, Bruce Springsteen, Chris Gay, chrisgay.net, chrisjgay.com, Christopher Gay, Christopher J Gay, comedy, Connecticut, CT, Dionne Warwick, Freelance Writer, Greater Hartford, Hartford, Hartford Connecticut, Hartford Whalers, History Christopherjgay.com, Holidays, Hope Springs, humor, Manchester, New England, Old State House, Radio advertisement, sarcasm, Sherlock Holmes, Stevie Wonder, thepassionofthechris.com, United States, Voice acting, voice-over artist, writer, Writer's Digest

25 Things I’ve Learned from Watching the ‘Die Hard’ Movie Series

By Chris Gay

Generally when starting one of my humor posts I ease into it with a sarcastic paragraph; then finish it up with several more sarcastic paragraphs. In this case however, the entire post is simply a list; even I can’t really stretch it out.

So read it and laugh. Or don’t. I don’t care; you’ve already clicked on it so I get credit regardless.

Luckily for you though I do have integrity, and as such actually made an effort here. Don’t thank me, my name is on this. I have to at least try. So without further ado, I present:

25 Things I’ve Learned from Watching the ‘Die Hard’ Movie Series

25. While in your 30’s, walking barefoot over broken glass can cause a serious, debilitating injury. In your 50’s however, you can crash through multiple panes of glass at various high rates of speed, and emerge almost completely unscathed. Then make a wise-crack and continue on with your day.

24. Villainous German henchmen seem to better understand commands given to them in English, rather than in their native German.

23. No matter how many times you spend Christmas vacation single-handedly saving your wife from the clutches of unsympathetic, highly paid professional mercenaries, she’ll still call you selfish and want a divorce.

22. After faking out the entire NYPD and walking off with billions in gold, never try to hide your army in a Canadian truck stop long enough to have a quickie with your mistress. It’s better to just keep going and wait till you’re back in Germany.

21. A limo driver will allow himself to remain stuck in a parking garage; and then easily break through the gate hours later after all of the villains have been defeated.

20. Movie grenades used against the hero will inexplicably have a 40-second long fuse.

19. A lobby security guard will watch you spend 5 minutes struggling to figure out how to use a computerized directory before casually mentioning that the only people left in the building anyway are on the 30th floor.

18. When trying to thwart a villain who has taken over our entire computer infrastructure and whom no agency can stop, it really pays to know Silent Bob.

17. Apparently, some stores sell 60-gallon bottles of maple syrup.

16. A guard assigned to watch one of the world’s biggest criminals will be paid the compliment of being an “excellent soldier,” simply because he was smart enough to deny that criminal’s own request to remove his handcuffs for him.

15. Seemingly, you can buy dugout tickets to Yankee Stadium for days they’re not even playing. Then just walk right down, take your seat, and watch the grounds crew manicure the lawn.

14. When leaving your adversary to an unverifiable doom, never toss him a bottle of aspirin with the name of your hotel stamped on the bottle.

13. A cop coming across an angry, menacing right-handed villain who has already escaped a vicious hanging, will believe that the best way to stop him is with 5 straight rounds to the same spot in his left-shoulder.

12. The highly-educated head of the American division of a billion dollar corporation will be too busy making wise-cracks to notice that his third-in-command is a blatantly drug-addicted slime ball womanizer.

11. After barely surviving your own efforts at bringing down an entire platoon of corrupt soldiers and mercenaries in order to get your wife back safely, you’ll pause momentarily with real concern over whether the police chief whose job and backside you just saved will or won’t forgive your earlier $40 parking ticket.

10. A villain who is precise enough to take out a deodorant spray can held by John McClane from 50 feet away, will still not be good enough a marksman to strike McClane himself.

9. While checking out the rooftop in a building he completely controls, a villain will take time to memorize a few random names from a wall directory; just on the off-chance he needs an alias if unexpectedly confronted by a previously neutralized, shoeless cop.

8. While in a room desperately trying to remain hidden in an effort to evade villains who are diligently searching for you, it’s a good idea to chain smoke cigarettes.

7. After finally securing the grizzled detective and his Agency son who you’ve been chasing, the most effective way to intimidate them is to eat a carrot and do a nice little dance.

6. After a broken-down cop has spent hours alone risking his life to take out your entire crew of mercenaries one by one, and then finally gets to you-who he finds holding his wife-it’s safe to assume that that’s the point at which he’d decide to laugh and give himself up with no backup plan whatsoever.

5. When trying to get the jump on a group of villainous mercenaries, your best ally would be a dim-witted janitor who somehow has access to the all of the extensive blueprints and architectural floor plans necessary for you to do so.

4. A villain will believe that if he hires someone to drop billions of dollars worth of gold bullion 30 feet to the bottom of Long Island Sound, the state, feds, and every single person with a scuba license or a snorkeling mask the entire world over would just leave it there, forever.

3. Of all possible moments, it’s with mere seconds left to figure out how to escape their near-certain, mutual doom that is the best time for two men to get into a heated debate on race relations.

2. The odds of running into the same narcissistic, adversarial news reporter during two separate but similar evil mercenary schemes, one apiece on each coast, are not nearly as long as you might think they’d be.

1. Instead of assisting in any way, the ranking officer at the LAPD Emergency Dispatch Call Center will tell a man, who is under fire, to hang up and phone a slightly more appropriate Emergency Dispatch Call Center.

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

* * * *

Featuring such taste-bud tempting recipes as:

Popcorn Salad

Meat on a Bed of Rice

Cheese and Crackers

Spaghetti Sandwich

Plus Miscellaneous Cookbook Humor, too!

* * * *

Chris Gay is an author, freelance writer, voice-over artist, broadcaster and actor. He writes and broadcasts a daily, minute radio humor spot in Hartford, Connecticut. He’s also written the paranormal, theological thriller novel Ghost of a Chance and three humor books: And That’s the Way It Was…Give or Take: A Daily Dose of My Radio Writings, Shouldn’t Ice Cold Beer Be Frozen? My 365 Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota, and The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm. He’s been published nationally in Writer’s Digest and is currently writing his fourth and fifth humor books, Another Round of Ice Cold Beer: My 365 More Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota and Something Witty this Way Comes; the latter being a collection of pieces written for his humor blog. His book Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal, is an original, extraordinary short story on the great detective. Also, he’s writing the Ghost of a Chance sequel Perdition’s Wrath, and has written and voiced radio commercials, authored both comedic and non-comedic freelance articles, scripts, press releases, website, media and technical content, done occasional radio color commentary for local sports, and acted in a couple of movies and plays. His website is chrisjgay.com, and his humor blog can be found at chrisgay.wordpress.com.

‘The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm’ by Chris Gay

Twitter: @chrisgay13

Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

Published in:

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on June 14, 2013 at 10:21 pm Leave a Comment
Tags: A Good Day to Die Hard, broadcaster, CBS, Chris Gay, chrisgay.net, chrisjgay.com, Christopher Gay, Christopher J Gay, comedy, Connecticut, CT, Die Hard, Die Hard II, Die Hard with a Vengeance, Freelance Writer, Hartford, History Christopherjgay.com, humor, Humour, John McClane, Live Free or Die Hard, Manchester, New England, Radio advertisement, sarcasm, thepassionofthechris.com, United States, Voice acting, voice-over artist, writer, Writer's Digest

Excerpt from ‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

Author’s Note

A short time ago I was given an extraordinary set of recordings to transcribe by a courier who stipulated that, in exchange, I must maintain his anonymity. After agreeing to the condition, I was commissioned to set down the spoken words in book form and then publish them under my own name. To this I also agreed.

We then listened to the audio (it had been transferred neatly onto a compact disc made from the antique tapes out of which it was recorded) so that the courier could be certain I fully understood the gravity of the content. When the disc had run its course I could barely believe my own ears, and asked him why I specifically was chosen for the task.

I was informed that he represented the wealthy British gentleman who possessed the original recordings, and to whom it was of the utmost importance that a foreign, overseas writer be utilized; if at all possible an American. That was the only explanation I received as to how I was selected for the assignment. After some consideration I thought it best not to ask any further questions, and so now that brings me to the matter at hand.

The words you are about to read were spoken well over seven decades ago by none other than Dr. John H. Watson, M.D., friend and confidant to the world’s greatest detective, Sherlock Holmes. With them, Dr. Watson explains that the decision as to whether the tale contained within his recordings should ever be published would be left entirely to fate. Clearly fate has at last opted to intervene, and has made its choice.

Not to belabor or overstate the point, but the story which lies ahead is simply astonishing. I’m not certain that I would have believed it had the words not come directly from Dr. Watson himself. I now invite you to decide for yourself whether or not you believe.

Christopher J. Gay

April 13th, 2013

Hartford, Connecticut USA

Foreword

In the years since the demise of my cherished friend, it has been frequently inquired of me just how many of our great adventures remain un-catalogued. While there was a long period in which I might confidently offer an accurate rejoinder, the present truth is that as more time passes even my best efforts can provide merely an estimate. Still, at this late stage I seem to find myself with more occasions to reflect on the rather diminutive selection of our stories that, for one reason or another, I had failed to chronicle. In point of fact, to be precise, one tale in particular.

As I now embark on my ninth decade of shuffling across this mortal coil, I have little doubt that the time is nearly upon when I shall once again have the opportunity to reminisce with my old companion in person. Time and its inexorable connection to mortality is a reality from which no man escapes. That truth being what it is I feel the moment has now arrived to set the record straight.

You’ll forgive me if I appear hesitant to continue, as I’m quite certain that this will prove the concluding narrative to cap off what has been called of late, somewhat to my amusement, the Sherlock Holmes “Canon.” (A generously over-descriptive noun which elevates my writing skills to an undeserved level) As such, I may linger somewhat in relaying the facts of this case, just as I might had I the foreknowledge that on a given day I would be viewing my last sunset.

As arthritis has stolen nearly all of my power to write, I’ll instead take this opportunity to use my Dictaphone to document what I am about to relate. This wondrous machine was a gift to Holmes, later bequeathed to me, in appreciation for his solving a case for the American inventor Alexander Graham Bell. That case in itself was worthy of the telling, and surely would have been if not for Holmes’s promise to Mr. Bell to forever maintain its secrecy. In that spirit, I too shall carry it to my grave.

Moreover, I will be so bold as to state that the following account will certainly prove to be the more memorable tale; in fact it’s likely to top them all. If you are wondering why it hasn’t been previously disclosed, the reason will become self-evident as the story unfolds. If not, it surely will by its conclusion.

As I have no desire to see the publication of this communication prior to my own end, once completed these tapes will be carefully concealed within my current residence in London. I shall leave it to fate that they should be discovered by some future owner and transcribed for public consumption. In the event they someday are, I should like to state for the ages that I have never known a more talented man; a greater champion of good, than my friend Sherlock Holmes. If only I could have measured up to his standards, I should have been much the better for it.

Dr. John H. Watson, M.D.

30 June 1940

Chapter 1

It was a seasonably warm day, which was to be expected as the calendar page had recently turned to July. I had only just entered my study and sat down when my housekeeper knocked upon the door.

“Come in, Sara,” said I.

“There’s a telegram for you, Doctor.”

I glanced around while simultaneously patting the breast pocket of my shirt, and realized I’d left my reading glasses in my bed chamber. Sara, having been witness to this same act of forgetfulness on my part for some time now, right away understood its meaning.

“Shall I retrieve your glasses for you, sir?”

“No, thank you. Please read the missive aloud and save us both some inconvenience. I apologize for having grown old and absent-minded in your care, Sara. The steady erosion of one’s faculties is indeed a nuisance.”

Having heard on many prior occasions my complaints on the matter; she offered a silent smile in acknowledgement as she unfolded the telegram.

“It is dated 3 July, Doctor.”

“Yes. Please do go on.”

Sara cleared her throat and proceeded. “Watson. My end draws near. If no bother I should like to say good-bye to my dearest friend. If you’re agreeable, please call on me soon. Holmes.” Sara read the last part with a slight tremor in her voice. She then walked over to my desk and laid the paper down upon it.

“There, there now,” I offered in an attempt to comfort her; but my heart wasn’t in the effort.

“My sincerest condolences, sir. When will you be leaving?”

“At once.” I picked up a train schedule from the corner of my desk and looked it over. “There’s a 3:30 to Sussex; that’s the one. I’ll go pack.”

“How long will you be gone?” She asked in that same slightly quivering voice.

“As long as it takes, my dear. As long as it takes.”

* * *

A motor-carriage taxi brought me to the station, at which point I boarded the 3:30 train for Sussex Downs. Once situated in my compartment I was finally alone with my thoughts. I am set to turn seventy-eight next week, and yet it seemed no more than a fortnight since Holmes and I had spent our first night together as flat mates in Baker Street. But as the saying goes, time and tide wait for no man. And as the wheels on the track drew me closer to my friend and his last dance with life before facing the inevitability we all must, I found myself in a state of reflection.

There were so many cases; so many adventures. Though I could not have known or at least appreciated it then, I realized now that I was indeed a lucky man; and in more ways than one. Having access to such a titanic intellect for so long was a blessing. Still, there was one thing on which I pondered greatly. A still-unsettled case that Holmes never fully solved, though on that fact I am quite certain he remains completely oblivious. The question became should I bother him with it, or let him go to his reward believing his perfect record remained intact? (While he has always considered the Irene Adler case a loss, I do not. And as Holmes’s de facto biographer, what I say literally goes.)

As the scenery rolled by I thought further on this; even moreso as the train reached the Sussex station. I hired another motor-carriage taxi to take me the rest of the way to the farm and it was there, on the final leg of my journey, that I decided Holmes should know. Moreover, that he deserved to know. At several times throughout our lengthy partnership he made it a point to mention that, for honour’s sake, I should register his mistakes along with his successes. And while I was reticent to do that, fearing a reduction in the high esteem with which the public held him; in this instance it was all but certain only he would ever know.

As the taxi took me down the long driveway to the main house, I could see the remains of Holmes’ once-thriving apiary. A few wooden hives, long bereft of bees, were all that was left of his post-detecting occupation. I was let out near the door and paid the driver. As he pulled away I turned and stared for a moment at the front door; at a threshold which I had not crossed for some time. I might have stayed in my stationary position for an hour longer if I didn’t hear a very familiar voice carry through an open window.

“It’s open, Watson.”

Without response I stepped forward and entered the dwelling; not sure in which condition I might find him. I walked through the front hallway and into his ground-floor living room, where I was surprised at the sight before me. If not for his affliction it might have been the 1880’s in Baker Street once again. Holmes stood near the unlit fireplace; pipe in hand, a fragile, gaunt figure leaning against its mantle for support.

My instincts as a doctor involuntarily kicked in and, without applying much thought, I chastised him. “Really Holmes; smoking during the end stages of cancer?”

He smiled. “The operative words in your rebuke are “end stages,” Watson. The fact is I would have been better served to have taken more seriously your reprimands on this filthy habit years ago. Now though as a man of medicine I must ask you: really, what difference does it make?”

Of course he was right. “Not much, I’m afraid.”

“To deny myself even the simplest pleasures at this stage would be utterly pointless.”

“Quite so,” I agreed.

‘Now then Watson, please. Have a seat.” No sooner had he gestured toward an overstuffed chair did he break out in an ugly cough.

“Goodness, Holmes. Let me call for your nurse.”

“I’m all right, my friend. Besides I’ve dismissed her from her duties for the next week.”

“Dismissed her? What on Earth for?”

“It was not an easy task, Watson,” he stated as if he hadn’t heard my question. “As I have been in decline for some time, she has been with me for quite awhile. And I am rather certain I’ll not see her again in this world.” Holmes continued. “What for, you ask? My answer is two-fold. There is no need for her to see the sight which will shortly come to pass, and surely you’ll be staying with me to the last. Who better should I hope to have by my side than the talented Dr. John H. Watson?”

Now it was my turn to smile. “A “talented” doctor who has long-since retired but, yes; of course I will be staying on with you as long as need be.”

“Excellent. Before dispatching my nurse with your telegram I asked her to prepare an upstairs bedroom for you. I trust you will find your accommodations satisfactory, Watson. If not, take comfort in that you will not need to endure them very long.”

“Come now, Holmes. A simple cot would be satisfactory. My only concern here is for your welfare.”

“I’m afraid we are past that, my good fellow. Now, pray unpack your things and re-join me here for some brandy and reminiscing.”

“Certainly. Ah, Holmes-“ he cut me off.

“Second door on your right, Watson. Do take your time.”

Want to read the rest? Click here to purchase your copy of Sherlock Holmes and the Final reveal by Chris Gay, either in paperback or on Kindle. Also available on amazon.com. All Rights Reserved. No portion of this book or excerpt may be reproduced in any way without written consent from the author.)

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

* * * *

Featuring such taste-bud tempting recipes as:

Popcorn Salad

Meat on a Bed of Rice

Cheese and Crackers

Spaghetti Sandwich

Plus Miscellaneous Cookbook Humor, too!

* * * *

Chris Gay is an author, freelance writer, voice-over artist, broadcaster and actor. He writes and broadcasts a daily, minute radio humor spot in Hartford, Connecticut. He’s also written the paranormal, theological thriller novel Ghost of a Chance and three humor books: And That’s the Way It Was…Give or Take: A Daily Dose of My Radio Writings, Shouldn’t Ice Cold Beer Be Frozen? My 365 Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota, and The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm. He’s been published nationally in Writer’s Digest and is currently writing his fourth and fifth humor books, Another Round of Ice Cold Beer: My 365 More Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota and Something Witty this Way Comes; the latter being a collection of pieces written for his humor blog. His book Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal, is an original, extraordinary short story on the great detective. Also, he’s writing the Ghost of a Chance sequel Perdition’s Wrath, and has written and voiced radio commercials, authored both comedic and non-comedic freelance articles, scripts, press releases, website, media and technical content, done occasional radio color commentary for local sports, and acted in a couple of movies and plays. His website is chrisjgay.com, and his humor blog can be found at chrisgay.wordpress.com.

Twitter: @chrisgay13

Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

Published in:

Uncategorized

on May 5, 2013 at 10:59 pm Leave a Comment
Tags: Alexander Graham Bell, Arthur Conan Doyle, Arts, broadcaster, Chris Gay, chrisgay.net, chrisjgay.com, Christmas, Christopher Gay, Christopher J Gay, comedy, Connecticut, CT, Doctor Watson, Freelance Writer, Hartford, Hartford Connecticut, History Christopherjgay.com, Holmes, humor, Humour, Manchester, sarcasm, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, thepassionofthechris.com, Voice acting, voice-over artist, Watson, writer, Writer's Digest

Enjoying Super Bowl Parties for the Sarcastically Inclined

By Chris Gay

Super Bowl Sunday Arrives

There are many ways in which to maximize your comfort and amusement while watching the game at a Super Bowl party. In that spirit, listed here are a few helpful hints to help you enjoy our unique football holiday. (Listen, if others cared enough about their own Super Bowl party comfort, they’d be reading this instead of you. They snoozed, they lost.)

Play the Food Fool

If you generally spend Super Bowl Sunday with the same people, this works along the same principle as Thanksgiving does. Either make it a point to loudly mock your own pathetic cooking skills, or prepare a dish so bland that it’d make a plate of raw zucchini drizzled with maple syrup seem more appetizing.

If you’re successful in this effort, no one will bother asking you to cook anything ever again. Then the most you’ll ever have to do in the future is make a quick stop for some whipped cream or a few bags of potato chips. (By the way, in the latter instance buy your favorite brand. As there are usually plenty of varieties to choose from at any party, you might as well assure yourself of there being a flavor that you like.)

Mockery

Have some fun at the expense of the resident Know-it-All. Each year, there’s usually someone at every party who loves to show off his or her sports knowledge. (Most often, it’s a his) There are even rumors that, sometimes, that arrogant bastard is me. Whatever. Jealousy is an ugly color.

But I digress. Make the party experience more pleasurable for all by occasionally asking him legitimate-sounding football questions.

First feign your sports ignorance, and then specifically request his expert definition of an Incarnate Interception. Or even better, ask him to explain how the Secondary is employed in the Penny Defensive Package. Even though no such terms exist, there will still be a decent chance that rather than admitting he has no clue what you’re talking about, he’ll actually try to answer. If so, it’ll provide everyone there with years of laughter as you all reminiscence annually. (“Hey, remember the time this clown tried to tell us that…”)

Clean Up and Leftovers

As the party winds down, it’s vitally important to always make a sincerity-laden request to your hostess to help clean up. The benefits of this faux generosity are twofold.
First, she’ll almost always say “No, thank you,” anyway; especially if you’re a guy. Our well-earned reputation for being uncaring, lazy cleaners really pays off here. Plus you’ll get credit for volunteering without even having to do anything to earn it. (Note: If the host is a guy, don’t bother asking. He won’t expect you to anyway, and if you do ask he’ll accept because he doesn’t care either and just wants the mess cleaned up.)

At the end of the evening, you’ll probably be asked to take some food home with you. If so, don’t decline. I mean really, why would you? You could easily snag a few days’ worth of simple meals and/or snacks for yourself. However:

Beware the Cookware Trap!

If at all possible when packing up your gratis party leftovers, use disposable plates and plastic wrap. No guy wants to be stuck with a plate or over-sized casserole dish he’ll have to chip “Mary’s Famous Chili Cheese Dip” out of for an hour, once it’s hardened into a victuals-based cement.

Not to mention having to remember its whereabouts while simultaneously ensuring it remains intact for six months to a year.

Saying Goodnight and Your Sham Promise to Host Next Time

On your way out make sure to not only thank your host/hosts, but also to mention your requisite promise to return the favor.

Yes, you’ll both know that it ain’t happening, but there is that annoying etiquette requirement thing to consider. Besides, it’s a small price to pay if you’re walking out of there with an entire plate of Buffalo wings.

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

* * * *

Author Page (on Facebook)

Chris Gay Author/Writer/ Humorist (on Facebook)

Ghost of a Chance (on Facebook)

Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal (on Facebook)

The Bachelor Cookbook: Edible Meals with a Side of Sarcasm (on Facebook)

And That’s the Way it Was…Give or Take: A Daily Dose of My Radio Writings (on Facebook)

Shouldn’t Ice Cold Beer Be Frozen? My 365 Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota (on Facebook)

Another Round of Ice Cold Beer: My 365 More Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota (on Facebook)

Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

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on February 25, 2013 at 7:55 pm Comments (1)
Tags: Big Mac, broadcaster, Chris Gay, chrisgay.net, chrisjgay.com, Christopher Gay, Christopher J Gay, comedy, Connecticut, CT, ESPN, Freelance Writer, Hartford, Hartford Connecticut, Home, Jack the Ripper, Manchester, New England, sarcasm, Satan, Super Bowl, Super Bowl Sunday, Television, Thanksgiving, thepassionofthechris.com, United States, Voice acting, voice-over artist, writer, Writer's Digest

The Hartford County Diet: Chris Gay’s 1-Step, Guaranteed Weight-Loss Plan for the New Millennium

The Hartford County Diet: Chris Gay’s 1-Step, Guaranteed Weight-Loss Plan for the New Millennium

Dedication

To Irony. This humor pamphlet, (The antithesis to my upcoming humor book ‘The Bachelor Cookbook’) was written years before I decided to take my food comedy in the opposite direction. Initially this was to be a full humor book, and pre-dates all those which I’ve already written and published. Look for ‘The Bachelor Cookbook’ in 2013; look for ‘The Hartford County Diet’ blog post directly below these words.

Prologue

This book was conceived for two simple reasons: to make money and help people; necessarily in that order. The notion of the ‘self-help’ book has been around for decades. Just recently we’ve been inundated with the likes of The South Beach Diet, The Atkins Diet and their endlessly multiplying cousins.

While these diet plans may be initially effective they are, in fact, little more than glorified, temporary shortcuts. And not the beneficial kind either, such as deftly avoiding mall traffic by taking an alternate route to a Buffalo Wild Wings in order to make it in time for the opening face-off.

Diet Shortcuts and Dating Advice

These ‘shortcuts’ most often fail for the same reason that changing your persona on a first date ultimately does: No matter how hard you try to be someone you’re not, it’s nearly impossible not to eventually revert back to your true nature. And in the case of food, take that to mean your established eating habits.

With dating you might as well be yourself and hope she falls for the real you. Then, she won’t be surprised when three month’s later you’re still the same chore-avoiding, video game playing, non-communicative couch potato she thought she’d be able to change whom she first met. With victuals, you might as well eat whatever junk you like, ignore the sarcasm, and be happy.

So, you ask, “How do I eat what I want then and still lose weight, Chris?” This is a great question; one easily answered in the following page with great accuracy. In fact, no reputable doctor could refute it.

If followed correctly, you can absolutely eat anything you’d ever want and still shed pounds. What’s better, you can maintain it for life as well. No more PLINKO chips crop-dusted with cheese powder, (rice cakes) or energy bars chalky enough for use in writing mathematical equations on a blackboard. Unless you enjoy those things. Hey, some people like anisette-flavored licorice, so to each his or her own. I guess.

Well, Obviously

If, at this pamphlet’s conclusion, you wonder why you paid good money for the blatantly self-evident, please bear this in mind: professional comedians get paid, some quite handsomely, for pointing out the obvious. What makes you laugh is their assistance in helping you see common happenstances in a new light. Kind of makes you hold them in a somewhat greater esteem, eh?

What you shouldn’t forget though, is that the obvious is still true. Why should you buy this then, when you can simply read it in a typical wait on line in a grocery store check-out line? For one, I would appreciate the money, and two, eventually, you’ll realize that this book is the bargain of a lifetime, if I do say so myself. And I do. Good luck to you, Reader, and God bless Capitalism.

Chapter One

The first and only step to consistent and enduring weight-loss is the following:

1) Burn off more calories than you consume.

Epilogue

Well, now you know. That’s all there is to it. It is mathematically impossible to gain weight if your various activities cause you to expend more calories than you take in. It’s foolproof! However conscience compels me to add this little tidbit: I’m certainly no doctor or nutritionist, and I must speculate that if you asked one, he or she would likely recommend eating the proper amounts of fruits, vegetables, lean meat, grain, dairy, less junk food, blah, blah, etc, etc. There, got that out of the way.

Which is the more correct of these methods is a subject for debate in the sequel to be written later for an additional cash-grab. This book only concerns itself with the weight-loss aspect of dieting. I mean, who am I to judge you? Especially since the only time I eat fruit is when it’s on the inside of a Pop-Tart. So if you want to eat a cheese danish with lemonade three meals a day, go ahead. And while that can work for you, I would think it through a bit first.

Here’s a nickel’s worth of free advice: if you work in an office where every woman has a bowl of chocolate on her desk that she herself never seems to eat, ignore them. (The candy, not the woman. You never know where a relationship might start) Keep a large, ice-filled cup of water by your side. Eat the ice too, as it tends to be considerably low in calories. And although your dentist may discourage this particular practice, well, I’m not a dentist either so it makes me no never mind.

Add a lot more lettuce to your sandwich. It’s filling, with much fewer calories. Iceberg lettuce gets a bad rap, incidentally. Some smart-alec will always tell you it’s the ‘junk food’ of lettuce. Really? It’s essentially green, solidified water, so how bad can it be? Unless you’re allergic to it in which case yeah, avoid it.

Also, go to bed earlier, wake up later,or both; as fictitious studies show it’s difficult to eat while sleeping.

If you order a pizza, share it. If you manage to change your eating habits enough to make a real difference, who knows? You may end up as an annoying yet highly compensated spokesman for a national submarine sandwich chain. But hey, if you do, don’t worry what others think of you as long as the checks clear.

Bettercreme Frosting

If you’re going to eat cake, eat cake-with real frosting. Not one with that horrifying Bettercreme. Sure, people drink a lot of diet soda, so that’s a practical switch. But how much cake do you really eat? If you learn one thing and one thing only from this book, please, let it be that life is much too short for Bettercreme frosting.

In Conclusion

Okay, last thing: Some habits are good. If you can hang on to this mathematical solution long enough to make eating less a habit, it will then become routine. Oh, and don’t eat when you’re not hungry. In fact, here’s a formula to cut out and magnet to your refrigerator. Not Hungry=Don’t Eat.

That’s it. Off you go. Oh wait, one more thing. Get off your backside and move around once in awhile. You’ll thank me later. And if you don’t, who cares? I don’t even know you. Ciao.

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out my new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

Chris Gay is an author, freelance writer, voice-over artist, broadcaster and actor. He writes and broadcasts a daily, sponsored minute radio humor spot in Hartford, Connecticut. He’s written three humor books: Shouldn’t Ice Cold Beer Be Frozen? My 365 Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota, And That’s the Way It Was…Give or Take: A Daily Dose of My Radio Writings, and The Bachelor Cookbook: Recipes with a Side of Sarcasm for the Single Guy. He’s currently writing his fourth humor book, Another Round of Ice Cold Beer: My 365 More Random Thoughts to Improve Your Life Not One Iota, along with the Ghost of a Chance sequel Perdition’s Wrath. He has written and voiced radio commercials, authored both comedic and non-comedic freelance articles, scripts, press releases, website, media and technical content, done occasional radio color commentary for local sports, and acted in a couple of movies and plays. He lives in Connecticut.

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Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

Published in:

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on January 9, 2013 at 8:15 pm Leave a Comment
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Exit 2016, Enter 2017

As we bid adieu to another year, it falls to us writers/ humorists to throw something out there to elicit a laugh. After all, we don’t make anything useful, such as digital toaster ovens, so we might as well toss some words together for your amusement.

At any rate, here we are. Once again, the earth has completed its annual 365 day journey around the sun. The unspoken truth is however, that it does this every day. For instance on December 4th, it had been a year since the prior December 4th. But no one cares about that. (Except, of course, those who were born on December 4th. But it’s not very likely that that’s you.)

So now we all look back and take inventory of what went wrong, what went right, and how we might change things for the better. Also, we buy gym memberships that will be used less than an avocado juicer purchased while watching a 3 a.m. infomercial.

Resolutions

This is the time of year in which we make numerous promises to ourselves that have zero chance of being fulfilled. That’s okay, though. No one fulfills them. If it makes you feel better we all go through the motions. However if it helps, just set the bar very low. For instance, I’ve never smoked in my life. So I resolve not to smoke. Simple. But since I love junk food, I tend to avoid making those kind of unreasonable resolutions.

I also resolve not to listen to rap music or heavy metal, cliff dive off the Rock of Gibraltar, snorkel down to the Titanic’s wreck, or drive 580 miles per hour on the Bonneville Salt Flats. See? It’s easy-that’s if you know how to play the game.

Chinese Take-Out Food

On those New Year‘s Eves in which you find yourself either divorced or too lazy and/or uninspired to go out, Chinese take-out food is essential. Nothing goes better with a DVD, followed by whatever hack hairdo is hosting ‘Dick Clark‘s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve’, than a sea of sweet and sour chicken. Plus, while you’re waiting for your order, you can usually help yourself to a generously provided, free Styrofoam cup of tea, which completely wipes out any calories you’re about to consume. *

Live TV Specials

If you do stay home this New Year’s Eve, there’s likely to be a slew of year-end specials featuring untalented singers that, if you’re in your 30’s or 40’s, you’ve never heard of. Or if you have, you could not care less about. (Though a few of the divas may be hot enough to justify some cursory viewing.)

Your best bet is to either throw in a DVD or watch whatever’s still taking up space on your DVR. Then around 11:50 p.m., switch over to watch the countdown. Though many stations will show it, who is kidding who? You’re going to go back to the network you grew up watching this Times Square spectacle occur on, ABC, with or without Dick Clark. (RIP) If you don’t remember doing that, you’re probably not reading this blog, anyway.

Times Square

At some point during the evening, you’re likely to reminisce on long ago promises made to yourself to attend in person the ball dropping on New Year’s Eve. Don’t screw with yourself. If you were born during Reagan’s first term or earlier, it’s just not happening. Who needs all of that hassle, anyway? Especially if you live in, like, Iowa.

Champagne

Some of you may wish to celebrate the Earth’s most recent revolution with a bit ‘o the bubbly. If so, more power to you. I’m a vodka man myself. If you’re home, or out with a group that includes a designated driver, whatever floats your boat. In point of fact it’s water that floats my boat; but there’s much less fun in consuming H2O.

New Year’s Day

When you awaken late morning (or more likely early afternoon) the new tradition is to watch the National Hockey League’s signature game, the outdoor Winter Classic. Or you can catch one of the TBS showings of 24 Hours of a Christmas Story. No, wait. Scratch that. I got my holidays mixed up. Give me a break; as I edit this it’s after 4 a.m. And also, May.

Biblical Implications

Technically, I’m an Agnostic Catholic. But I did attend Catholic school, and (blatant plug alert) wrote a theological, paranormal thriller novel. (Please see the even more blatant reference in my Author Biography.) So I’m fully authorized to delve into this topic with sarcasm.

You may not realize it, but our system of measuring contemporary time begins with the birth of Jesus Christ. It goes: B.C. = Before Christ, A.D. = Anno Domino, A.C. = Air Conditioning.

Having never taken Latin, I can only assume that the middle one translates to After Domino’s, & references how my early Christian brethren and sister-en ordered their more recent pizzas.

Anyway, what we’re actually celebrating each January is the number of years that have passed since Jesus’s birth. The only issue there is that He was almost certainly born in the spring. But that’s okay. Like all good writing, it got cleaned up during the editing process.

Plus it’s more convenient this way. Since Earth is over 4 billion years old, if we counted from the actual beginning of time imagine how long it’d take to write out personal checks. Not to mention the looks you’d get in the express line at the supermarket. I guess it will become an issue for those people living here in 8 Billion A.D., but who cares? That’ll be their problem.

In Conclusion

Just go with it. Enjoy the day, be responsible, and be safe. And if you sleep through it all, that’s okay. Super Bowl Sunday is only five weeks away.

* I’m not even close to a doctor, so there is a slight chance that my statement is wholly and completely inaccurate

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

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Movies:

2012:

Hope Springs (Barfly)

2009:

Testimonies of a Quiet New England Town (Constable John Gilbert)

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on December 31, 2012 at 6:25 am Leave a Comment
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A Toast to Carrier, the Patron Saint of Air Conditioning

It’s hard to believe that a century has passed since Willis Carrier bestowed upon civilization its greatest man-made gift. Looking back on the 20th Century, it’s not hard to discern its most important contribution to mankind.

Okay, I’ll grant that maybe penicillin is up there. And maybe…okay, okay. Let’s just stipulate all the medical advances. And definitely yoga pants.

So, what’s left?

Before you all answer at once, (which would be odd, as this isn’t a traditional conversation) remember that the telephone, radio, motorcar, movie camera, record player, fax machine, Coca-Cola, Pepsi-Cola, and even television (well, technically) all have their roots planted firmly in the 19th Century and therefore don’t count. Nice try, though.

If you care about my opinion on the matter and, since you’re reading the fourth paragraph I’m guessing you do, (unless you’re just bored, which is still cool; as either way you’ve already increased my page views) it is without question air conditioning.

Yes, I’d give up DVD’s, stuffed crust pizza, the treadmill-and even the microchips that allow me to write these very words before I’d ever part with my AC.

I was born and bred in New England. So I’m sure there are people reading this in Georgia, Texas or Louisiana laughing heartily at my inability to abide our semi-annual fluctuating inferno by comparison to Southerners’ ability to handle the relentless, even sweltering-er version, of theirs.

Fair enough. In fact, I’ll even showcase our famed Northern Hospitality by not mentioning it’s their ridiculous choice to live there.

Ironically Mr. Carrier, the man who made possible such a large exodus to our South, invented modern air conditioning in Buffalo, New York. In fact his company remained a mainstay in nearby Syracuse for decades. These, of course, are two cities where spring and autumn are myths, summer is encompassed between July 16th through July 20th, and in which winter resides the rest of the year.

The reality is that nothing can truly be enjoyed when you’re surrounded by oppressive heat. I’d rather be comfortable and bored than lose a quart of water weight sitting on the couch watching a ballgame in 50-inch high definition. Besides, there’s always a book to read. (Though I guess it does depend on the game.)

So the next time someone comes up for Canonization or Beautification, (As I’m about 25% Catholic and 75% Agnostic, I can never quite remember which one applies. As a writer though, I did know to capitalize them) I’d like to nominate Willis Haviland Carrier. At the very least he was truly, literally, one cool dude.

God. The Devil. The Bet. The Fate of Mankind in the Balance. Check out Chris Gay’s new theological, paranormal crime thriller, Ghost of a Chance.

* * * *

‘Sherlock Holmes and the Final Reveal’ by Chris Gay

* * * *