The Gull Reef Club

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9/17/2019 · 2:03 am· Trouble · Good Bye Blue Sky
sometimes waiting and watching is all you can do. The weather has been oscillating quite a bit this... | Read More

9/1/2019 · 1:30 pm· Jaime · Good Bye Blue Sky
It's summer. We don't adventure much in the summer. It's too hot & buggy. We hibernate and wait... | Read More

9/1/2019 · 2:25 am· Trouble · Good Bye Blue Sky
So how goes the summer of adventure? Inquiring minds want to know.... | Read More

6/6/2018 · 12:46 am· Michael (Net2007) · My friend, my friend, (s)he’s got a knife
I've often felt this way, it's strange and divisive times in many ways. As far as this goes, I... | Read More

7/12/2017 · 4:22 pm· Trouble · Half of Us Are Wrong or in the Alternative, Half of Us Are Right
I've been following the saga and cataloging links of interest that contain more than mere rhetoric.... | Read More


Hire The Honey Bears!

Filed under: — Jaime @ 12:23 am

Rejoice, Superfans. Now you too can relive the heyday of Halas’ dancing girls by hiring the Honey Bears to hustle and hoedown at your next function. Weddings, Bar/t Mitzvahs, the Office Christmas party – you pay, they dance. But don’t ask them to cheer for you. They are NOT cheerleaders, but technically trained dancers. Understood?




National Security Threat

Filed under: — Jaime @ 10:32 pm

There was a fire alarm today in the place I go to for pay everyday. This happens every year when it gets just the slightest bit cold (and by that I mean in the 60s), but I reacted and vacated the building, nevertheless.

Being the conscientious patriot that I am, I have practiced getting down multiple floors via the stairs in record time. Seriously. I have. Well, ok, it’s more because of my great dislike for the elevators and want of a bit of exercise, but I have managed to clear seven flights in about a minute’s time. But not today.

Today’s fire alarm and mass evacuation of the building taught me a valuable lesson about homeland security – women in heels are a threat. A very serious and, until now, overlooked threat. My time was slowed to nearly four minutes because of numerous wenches’ poor shoe choice. This is completely unacceptable. If we are all supposed to do our part to help fight terrorism, we better all be ready to run like hell when necessary. I don’t want to be swallowed up in a fire or have a building crash down on me because you refused to wear sensible shoes.

Seriously women – what gives with the heels? First, you look stupid. You may think it makes you look sexy or taller or some other BS like that, but you’re lying to yourself. No amount of sole is going to make that fat office ass of yours look any thinner. Second, no one but you and your catty friends care. Everyone else has better things to do than look at your shoes. Get over yourself. Third, did I mention how stupid you look? Fourth, you are deforming your feet and messing with your posture. Enjoy that bunion surgery at 40 and the walker at 50. Hope those heels were worth a lifetime of foot and back pain. Fifth, and most importantly, you now present a national security threat to other office workers of the world. Which means if you wear high heels, you must be a terrorist or at the very least, you’re an America hater.

I’m going to start lobbying my Senators to enact a law. Obviously, this needs to be legislated…


The Little 3-0

Filed under: — Jaime @ 5:11 pm

I made it beachcombers. The little 3-0. Little because there isn’t anything about me that’s big. So much for live fast die young. I now look forward to getting older and being able to ram others with my grocery cart in Wal-mart and never having to apologize for it. Aging is fun if you let it be.


Rey de Cervezas?

Filed under: — Jaime @ 10:52 pm

If you watch any professional sports in the States, inevitably you have been subject to the new(ish) ads by Budweiser. Bud is apparently trying to change it’s image to appeal to the young and hip and move away from being the swill of choice for rosy-necked NASCAR fans.

As part of this campaign, Bud has opted to commit what some would call marketing suicide – they changed their icon. They have moved away from the traditional and very well branded ‘A’ with eagle and adopted a brinking, well known, gang symbol.

Old Bud:

New Bud:

Latin Kings:

Budweiser, go back to the clydesdales. Horsies = good. Gangs = bad.



Filed under: — Jaime @ 8:03 pm

Partially inspired by Ms. Bucket and partially wanting a reason to have my oven on for an extended period of time, Mike and I baked lasagna this weekend.

Whenever I indulge myself in this heavenly yet heavy meal, I can’t help but think of my very Italian grandma. Grandma was the type of person for whom the word matriarch was invented. When I was a kid, she was at the center of all of my mom’s side’s family gatherings. And Grandma never failed to appear without her army – a battalion of delectable dishes that would render us all useless by the end of the get together. Grandma very well understood that a good meal was the glue that kept us altogether.

On the way home from shopping one afternoon, my long lost friend Mandi* and I were traveling through my grandma’s town. We were thirsty, and being dumb high schoolers, had already spent all our cash. I suggested we stop at Grandma’s so we could gank some cokes off her.

We just so happened to arrive at the same time Grandma was about to put a lasagna in the oven. Grandma, of course, was thrilled to see us, but we felt bad dropping in on her when she was obviously getting ready to have dinner guests. We apologized and she laughed at us. She had no dinner plans. It was just a routine night for her and Grandpa. She was simply making the lasagna because ‘you never know when you might need one’ and ‘it will get eaten eventually.’ So instead of a quick stop for a coke, Mandi and I stumbled away a few hours later with gorged guts.

Grandma was a genius. What I wouldn’t give to be able to eat her food again. I suddenly have a hankering for crostoli.

*Mandi, aka Premiere Rahool Kisov, has been MIA for a few years now. If anyone knows where she is or how I can get in touch with her, please email me – thegullreefclub AT


Grandpa Butter Upper

Filed under: — Jaime @ 7:24 pm

It’s my dad’s birthday today. You regular beachcombers know I’m usually pretty mum about dad. But since it’s his special day, what better way to honor the man than to share a humorous anecdote invovling Daddio? Of course, I doubt my ability to make it as cool as a Velociman Senator story, but my dad ain’t no Senator.

My dad is a lot of things, though, one of which is a Steve Martin fan. Back in the late 70s, when I was but a wee tot, Dad, like hundreds of thousands of other Americans, purchased the Wild and Crazy Guy LP…or maybe 8-track. Probably an 8-track. He was an 8-track kind of guy.

Regardless of its original form, the contents eventually burned themselves into Dad’s brain. By the time my kid sister and I were old enough to parrot understandable english, he had us reciting some of his favorite bits. And what I didn’t realize, until decades later looking back on all this, is what a twisted sense of humor my dad had for making us learn those jokes. See, we were completely niave as to what we were actually saying.

For years, my dad would sing to us in a commanding, deep voice, “Graaaaaannnndpaaaaaa…..” to which kid sister and I would obediently sing in reply, “Butter Upper!”

It wasn’t until high school when I had a chance to listen to and actually appreciate Wild and Crazy Guy that I realized what a hoax my dad had perpetrated on us all those years – Steve Martin wasn’t saying butter upper! :o


The Incredible Growing Pants

Filed under: — Jaime @ 4:56 pm

As the well-to-do-looking, middle-aged, white woman in City Market stared at herself in the reflection of a storefront window, she stated in a very surprised and exasperated fashion to no one in particular:

Oh my god. Look at my pants! They’re going to fall off.

I, of course, looked. They seemed to fit just fine.

The Gull Reef Club