I know it’s hard to believe that its already been a year….it soon will be. The greatest spectacle this side of the Mississippi north of the Ohio River south of Lake Erie West of the Sandusky River East of Freddy’s Car Wash north of Ballville  South of the CSYC next to the hospital….it is back!!! Yes my friends I am talking about….

The 2nd Annual Fremont 4th of July Downhill Office Chair Race

We had so much fun (those who raced and those who watched) that we just couldn’t disappoint this year. If the rumors are true…this year will be bigger and better than last year. For those of you who did not get to witness or participate in the inaugural race last 4th of July, this is your chance. Show up Stand up and grab your lawn chairs blankets picnic baskets and red solo cups!!!!!!!!!!    Fremonters get ready… stand by… to see the unbelievable. Be prepared to be entertained or humiliated whichever comes first.  Grab that old office chair out of the basement attic or garage…or borrow your bosses. ..Return condition not guaranteed. It’s time to start having fun in this city of ours.

487931_3665636955580_1169816101_n

564049_3665649955905_1226357767_n

524147_3665626675323_811306761_n

318763_3665639195636_122441425_n

Sound like Fun???? Of course it does! Aren’t you tired of the same old 4th of July activities??? Well get off your ass and join in the fun. Read on for info…. The Date and Time 4th of July  10am. Location (see course below) THE OFFICE CHAIRS Each competitor will ride a non-motorized version of a modified office chair. That’s right every racer must begin as an ordinary office chair. This is where the similarity from office chair to racing vehicle ends. The racer must have the following but not limited to… at least 2 wheels and the seat. This is where rules end. Optional accessories may include but not limited to; more wheels, steering wheel or handle bar, streamers, flags, rockets, desk, sail, sidecar, passenger and breaks if you like… you get the point? And that point is… there is no point. Any modification you can dream up is acceptable…except the unacceptable…motor. You may choose to build from the office chair or start off with an existing form of transportation such as skateboard, tricycle, lawnmower, wheelchair, dolly or the famous radio flyer.  Then add the office chair to it. The Rules (What Rules) Aside from following and the above guidelines you should be at least 16 (don’t need to act like it)(not mandatory though); each racer may receive a 1 step push from a friend. The rest is left up to gravity and the survival skills of the racer. The first one to cross the finish line is the winner. If there are more entries than room to run, there will be heats with the top racers to compete in the championship race. However there will be at least 1 All competitors all out no holds bar race to survive; final race….Provided the office chairs and drivers survive the first races. Helmets encouraged but not mandatory…so are knee pads, elbow pads, pillows, vicoden, alcohol, bubble wrap  …etc. The Prizes Other than bragging rights until the next year…I’ll think of something. The categories for prizes are…but not limited to; 1st Place Championship Race 1st Place All out no holds bar Survival Race Best original design Office Chair Craziest Office Chair And 1 ”I just couldn’t make it to the bottom” conciliation prize….TJ J Or…whatever I say is a prize….. The Course Memorial Pkwy … You got it next to hospital….just in case, Yes the brick road. The race will start off just before the crest of the hill and finish slightly past the bottom. Note: this race is unofficial and this is a street…. This is a One Way Street…and thats good…we’ll only be going One Way (hopefully). On lookers are encouraged to slow traffic :)

Office Chair Race Location

The Goal To have as much fun as possible, survive uninjured and entertain the public and yourselves! Disclaimer By participating in this event either by competing or viewing you agree not to hold the organizers (me) or anyone other than yourself responsible for any type of injury that may occur or any embarrassment you might feel. So get to work!!! See you at High Noon! …..I mean 10:00 or if you want the pre-game at the CSYC for Bloody Mary’s!!!!   WHO’S IN Tim

The Day I Die…A Story of Fiction Truths and Slight Exaggerations

In 1983 I joined the Marine Corps as a part of the delayed entry program and a special project conducted by the Central Intelligence Agency known as Program 224. They took the name from the number of recruits involved in the program. Program 224 was a government program designed to take ordinary Marines and train them to be operational in the event they were needed. Even though I did not leave for boot camp until after graduation the summer of 1985, I would meet with my handler at least once a month and then again during the summer and winter breaks from school. It was at this time I would meet with others like me in the area and we would study codes, communication skills, weapons and marksmanship.

The goal of Program 224 was to develop a Marine that could assimilate himself inside a Marine Corps unit and operate as one of them without notice. To function as a mediocre Marine not bringing awareness of himself  or his abilities to his fellow Marines and command….until called upon. The training continued once on active duty. Specialized weaponry training, surveillance and evasion, survival training and finally SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape) training. They went to great lengths to hide this from the units and fellow Marines in which I was stationed with….my friends.

In 1987 I was contacted by my handler Mr Jacobs. I was to schedule leave (vacation) the following month for two weeks, purchase plane tickets to travel back home to visit my family. I packed my bags picked up my ticket and headed to the Palm Springs airport as anyone would who was leaving for a trip. I approached the counter and passed my I.D. and my ticket voucher to the ticket agent. She handed me some papers a ticket and a boarding pass. She said my plane would be leaving through Gate 224 and would be located at the end of Terminal B. I arrived at my gate and found 2 others waiting. We didn’t speak as we waited. The same women who gave me my ticket arrived at the gate and opened the door and down the ramp we headed towards a plane with no markings awaiting on the tarmac. It was an all white jet about the size of a small passenger airliner. Once inside I proceeded to my assigned seat. There were only the 3 of us on the plane but each seated apart as to not speak to another, the window blinds were closed and we were seated in the middle seats. Our flight seemed to last about 3-4 hours and when we arrived out our destination it was dark. As the door opened we stepped out on the tarmac that was lit up by bright lights from every direction. I couldn’t determine where we were by our surroundings but I could smell the desert air as though we never left our origin.

On the tarmac I was greeted by Mr Jacobs and ushered away from my 2 travel companions. I was taken to a building where Mr Jacobs showed his ID and we walked through a heavily guarded doorway. Once inside we walked down a dim lit hallway that reminded me of a hospital hallway in a horror movie. We walked through another doorway guarded only by a tall lanky man in a suit. The room had a conference style table in the middle and was surrounded by chairs. I could tell that someone was seated at the back of the table but because of the poor lighting I could not make out his face. I was instructed to sit at a seat in front of me. As I took my seat, I was handed an envelope and was instructed to open it. An overhead slide came on the screen across from me…the slide was that of the same face that was on the picture inside the envelope I had just opened. Once the slide came on the gentleman at the end of the table began to speak. The slides began to changed showing the man from different views and various looks. I was given a description of height, weight, hair color, with or without a mustache/beard. I was also briefed about a meeting that would be taking place between this man and another “high value target”.

My instruction; Stand over-watch to insure the meeting takes place eliminate hostiles that appear.

The briefing ended, Mr Jacobs and I left the room leaving the gentleman still seated. We proceeded to another room where I packed my gear; a light pack (20lbs)…water, radio, side arm with 6 mags, my riffle…bolt action Remington 700 with suppressor and Leupold scope and plenty of Lapua .308 Winchester rounds capable of reaching targets 1000 meters away and 2 Snicker bars. I was met by my spotter….I was told to be a Silver Olympian in the 84 games. We didn’t talk much as we awaited transportation by helo to our staging area….from which point we had 3 hours to hump (hike or walk) to our nest (position of concealment  that provides line of site to our target). We set up position 620 meters away from a makeshift runway in the desert….and wait. We ranged the runway at various points and several avenues of approach that could be used by hostiles. My spotter takes first watch as I rest. The meeting was to take place in approximately 3 hours.  I awake and re-range the kill points taking in account for wind, trajectory and spin drift. I wake my spotter, as I hear the plane approach. He checks his figures again against mine and we make the adjustments. Mr Jacobs gives us the stand-by as the plane descends; in the distance I can see a vehicle approach. I can see 3 men, one of which is the face of the man in my envelope. The plane lands as the “High Value Target” emerges from the door the car pulls up. The 3 men get out and proceed to meet the other. They talk for a few moments as 1 man returns to retrieve a package from the car…he returns. They inspect the package shake hands and as they turn towards their vehicle I hear the first shot…then the second. My spotter calls out the targets….I locate, range fire target down. He calls another target…I locate range adjust windage and elevation…this one will be hard. In one second I take my breath relax aim stop squeeze target down.

The “High Value” Target is down and one associate in the car is down along with 2 hostiles. The car races off as the plane starts it’s engines a missile impacts on the plane and it erupts in a fire ball. Mr Jacobs signals “burn it down, burn it down” (code to take out the car) I shift positions range the target fire the driver is down, the car overturns. Target down I radio…as I hear a helo approach; it lands near the car. A Team gets out take up positions and retrieve the package…another shot..this time from the Team….the man in my photo is down. I continue to over-watch as they clean up the sight. A heavy lift helicopter lands, they hook up the car and fly off. The team boards their helo and leave the area. Mr Jacobs signals again….Buster I say again Buster as I pull my side arm and fire one shot into my spotters head. I pack up, clean my nest and head to the extraction point.

After debrief I return to my base as if I just came home from leave. It was then that I realize….nothing will be the same. It has all been paper targets until that point. It was at this moment that I changed, I know longer felt remorse, guilt nor did I have that moral trigger that said this may be wrong. I did and acted as my government told me as they trained me to do….it was at that point that something in me died. I don’t feel pain, compassion is something I no longer feel. Feel…that’s funny, I can’t seem to feel anything anymore!

Its up to you to determine the Fiction Truths the Exaggerations

Tim

 

By Tim Tagged

This Oath I Swear

December 7, 1941; When I reflect on this date, I wonder what was going through the sailors mind moments before the attack. Me, I imagine they were thinking about their family, girlfriend, best friends their brothers. Maybe what they would do that evening or tomorrow….for some it would be their last thought…for others their thoughts would be forever changed. I once entered Pearl Harbor by Naval Ship…the summer of 1988. It was a hot sunny day and we maned the rails while entering the harbor…past all the ship markers (each ship that sank in the harbor has a marker in its place). Manning the rails at attention is an honor paid to those who lie beneath the surface and was an honor of mine to do so.

When I reflect on this date, I think why I couldn’t do more… not on this date ( I wasn’t born) but why didn’t I stay in, why didn’t I do more when I served. Why when I had the chance at the end of the Gulf War didn’t I re-enlist or extend another time??? Maybe it’s because after the Gulf War I thought my job would be done…who would have thought that after the devastation we laid upon our enemy that anyone would challenge us again.

Then came September 11, 2001…. On this date I felt useless watching the events unfold on TV while at a food show in Detroit. I wished I was still in the Marine Corp I wish I could have been there in Afghanistan on October 7, 2001 or in Iraq that day in March of 2003. It’s hard to watch TV sometimes when they talk about the attacks and when I hear of my brothers in arms dying, I feel guilty that I am not there beside them. After all that is what we do…we who took that oath in June of 1985 and all that came before and after.

I often wonder what that oath means to others who said those same words. Did they know what they were saying did they think that one day they would have to do what they swore… will they again? I guess for myself, it meant that I would protect my family and those of my friends that I would protect those who could not protect themselves. I gave my word and swore my allegiance to the United States of America to the Marine Corps and to my brothers and to all who could not stand as we do.

So on this day December 7, 2012 I swear that same oath I swore in the summer of 1985

“I, Tim Honaker, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”

I only hope that the time will never come again I hope that it never comes to our land I hope that it never comes to my door….but I will when called either by nation or neighbor this I swear!

Semper Fi

Tim

Happy Birthday Marines! Semper Fi!

This Saturday November 10th, Join me in celebrating the Marine Corps 237th Birthday. I start out at the CSYC around 6:30 and then off to a few local bars to drink to the Marine Corps and to all my Brothers who served with me and to All those who gave their last full measure of devotion to our country.

For the Marine Corps this a tradition that dates back to the beginning to Tun Tavern in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania the birthplace of the Marine Corps on November 10, 1775. For me this is a tradition that started in 1985 and a tradition that I carry on to this date and hopefully many more to come.

From Wikipedia….According to tradition, Tun Tavern was also where the United States Marine Corps held its first recruitment drive. On November 10, 1775, the First Continental Congress commissioned Samuel Nichols, a Quaker innkeeper, to raise two battalions of marines in Philadelphia. The tavern’s manager, Robert Mullan, was the “chief Marine Recruiter.” Prospective volunteers flocked to the place, enticed by cold beer and the opportunity to join the new corps. The first Continental U.S. Marine unit was composed of one hundred Rhode Islanders commanded by Captain Nicholas. Some three million U.S. Marines have been exposed to the significance of Tun Tavern. Each year on November 10, U.S. Marines worldwide toast the Colonial Inn.

One night while I was in Marine Corps bootcamp in the summer of 1985 my drill instructor Sgt Thompson talked about the traditions of the Marine Corps and he passed on something that was told to him by his drill instructor…he said…on this day (November 10th) whether you are a lifer (a Marine who stays in until required retirement age) or you do your 4 and out. Whether you love or hate the Marine Corps, once you make it through bootcamp and bare the title United States Marine; you will find yourself in a bar and you’ll pick up a glass a bottle and raise it above your head and toast to the Marine Corps to your Brothers and to all that have given their life so that yours could be free.

On this Thursday November 10th if you’re in your local bar…look around, you’ll a group of Marines or maybe the older quite guy at the bar taking his drink…under his breath before each sip he will utter the names of his brothers. He might even tell you a story or two. But either way, he’ll be there…remembering honoring those who have served.

On this day I will be honoring the following;

Gunnery Sgt Mike Wolf (my brother)

Major Sam Hotz

Lcpl Jim Bock

Cpl Tom Coffman

Cpl Ashel Mathew Ammons

Pvt Don Franz

Cpl Glen Young

Cpl Rick Chirigotis

SSgt White

(Gunny) SSgt Byron Coates

Cpl Pena

Cpl Ski

Lcpl Schwamburg

Lcpl Stonecash

Cpl Travino

Cpl Draper

Cpl Manony

Cpl Hodge

Lcpl Billy Coin…RIP

Lt Ralph Croce

Cpl Tim Etter

Cpl Phillips

Pelton

Mitchell Jessie

Hiro Persons

Sat Persons

K-Boy Kamiola

Cpl Cordona

Pvt Diaz

Hi I’m LCpl Roy Ernest Gordon from Vardaman ,Mississippi, sweet potato capital of the world!

Rhodes

Paffenburger

Arthur J. Davey

Guy

David Scheck

To all those Brothers that I left off my list, only because of my poor memory I honor you! Feel free to leave in your comments the names of Marines and I will honor them as well!

Happy Birthday Marines

Semper Fi

Sgt Tim Honaker USMC

Famous Marine Corps Quotes

Reblogged from Thoughts From The Tragically Flawed Mind Of Tim:

There are only two kinds of people that understand Marines: Marines and the enemy. Everyone else has a second-hand opinion.Gen. William Thornson, U.S. Army

Freedom is not free, but the U.S. Marine Corps will pay most of your share.
Ned Dolan

A Marine is a Marine.  I set that policy two weeks ago - there's no such thing as a former Marine.  

Read more… 2,199 more words

For the Marine Corps Birthday this Saturday I reblog this;
By Tim

Will We Be Our Own Demise

I read this article in The New York Times, titled “Self Destruction of the 1 Percent” I tried to just re-post to my blog but it didn’t work so I just copied and pasted.

The New York Times article, Self Destruction of the 1 Percent;

By CHRYSTIA FREELAND Published: October 13, 2012

IN the early 14th century, Venice was one of the richest cities in Europe. At the heart of its economy was the colleganza, a basic form of joint-stock company created to finance a single trade expedition. The brilliance of the colleganza was that it opened the economy to new entrants, allowing risk-taking entrepreneurs to share in the financial upside with the established businessmen who financed their merchant voyages.

Venice’s elites were the chief beneficiaries. Like all open economies, theirs was turbulent. Today, we think of social mobility as a good thing. But if you are on top, mobility also means competition. In 1315, when the Venetian city-state was at the height of its economic powers, the upper class acted to lock in its privileges, putting a formal stop to social mobility with the publication of the Libro d’Oro, or Book of Gold, an official register of the nobility. If you weren’t on it, you couldn’t join the ruling oligarchy.

The political shift, which had begun nearly two decades earlier, was so striking a change that the Venetians gave it a name: La Serrata, or the closure. It wasn’t long before the political Serrata became an economic one, too. Under the control of the oligarchs, Venice gradually cut off commercial opportunities for new entrants. Eventually, the colleganza was banned. The reigning elites were acting in their immediate self-interest, but in the longer term, La Serrata was the beginning of the end for them, and for Venetian prosperity more generally. By 1500, Venice’s population was smaller than it had been in 1330. In the 17th and 18th centuries, as the rest of Europe grew, the city continued to shrink.

The story of Venice’s rise and fall is told by the scholars Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson, in their book “Why Nations Fail: The Origins of Power, Prosperity, and Poverty,” as an illustration of their thesis that what separates successful states from failed ones is whether their governing institutions are inclusive or extractive. Extractive states are controlled by ruling elites whose objective is to extract as much wealth as they can from the rest of society. Inclusive states give everyone access to economic opportunity; often, greater inclusiveness creates more prosperity, which creates an incentive for ever greater inclusiveness.

The history of the United States can be read as one such virtuous circle. But as the story of Venice shows, virtuous circles can be broken. Elites that have prospered from inclusive systems can be tempted to pull up the ladder they climbed to the top. Eventually, their societies become extractive and their economies languish.

That was the future predicted by Karl Marx, who wrote that capitalism contained the seeds of its own destruction. And it is the danger America faces today, as the 1 percent pulls away from everyone else and pursues an economic, political and social agenda that will increase that gap even further — ultimately destroying the open system that made America rich and allowed its 1 percent to thrive in the first place.

You can see America’s creeping Serrata in the growing social and, especially, educational chasm between those at the top and everyone else. At the bottom and in the middle, American society is fraying, and the children of these struggling families are lagging the rest of the world at school.

Economists point out that the woes of the middle class are in large part a consequence of globalization and technological change. Culture may also play a role. In his recent book on the white working class, the libertarian writer Charles Murray blames the hollowed-out middle for straying from the traditional family values and old-fashioned work ethic that he says prevail among the rich (whom he castigates, but only for allowing cultural relativism to prevail).

There is some truth in both arguments. But the 1 percent cannot evade its share of responsibility for the growing gulf in American society. Economic forces may be behind the rising inequality, but as Peter R. Orszag, President Obama’s former budget chief, told me, public policy has exacerbated rather than mitigated these trends.

Even as the winner-take-all economy has enriched those at the very top, their tax burden has lightened. Tolerance for high executive compensation has increased, even as the legal powers of unions have been weakened and an intellectual case against them has been relentlessly advanced by plutocrat-financed think tanks. In the 1950s, the marginal income tax rate for those at the top of the distribution soared above 90 percent, a figure that today makes even Democrats flinch. Meanwhile, of the 400 richest taxpayers in 2009, 6 paid no federal income tax at all, and 27 paid 10 percent or less. None paid more than 35 percent.

Historically, the United States has enjoyed higher social mobility than Europe, and both left and right have identified this economic openness as an essential source of the nation’s economic vigor. But several recent studies have shown that in America today it is harder to escape the social class of your birth than it is in Europe. The Canadian economist Miles Corak has found that as income inequality increases, social mobility falls — a phenomenon Alan B. Krueger, the chairman of the White House Council of Economic Advisers, has called the Great Gatsby Curve.

Educational attainment, which created the American middle class, is no longer rising. The super-elite lavishes unlimited resources on its children, while public schools are starved of funding. This is the new Serrata. An elite education is increasingly available only to those already at the top. Bill Clinton and Barack Obama enrolled their daughters in an exclusive private school; I’ve done the same with mine.

At the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, earlier this year, I interviewed Ruth Simmons, then the president of Brown. She was the first African-American to lead an Ivy League university and has served on the board of Goldman Sachs. Dr. Simmons, a Harvard-trained literature scholar, worked hard to make Brown more accessible to poor students, but when I asked whether it was time to abolish legacy admissions, the Ivy League’s own Book of Gold, she shrugged me off with a laugh: “No, I have a granddaughter. It’s not time yet.”

America’s Serrata also takes a more explicit form: the tilting of the economic rules in favor of those at the top. The crony capitalism of today’s oligarchs is far subtler than Venice’s. It works in two main ways.

The first is to channel the state’s scarce resources in their own direction. This is the absurdity of Mitt Romney’s comment about the “47 percent” who are “dependent upon government.” The reality is that it is those at the top, particularly the tippy-top, of the economic pyramid who have been most effective at capturing government support — and at getting others to pay for it.

Exhibit A is the bipartisan, $700 billion rescue of Wall Street in 2008. Exhibit B is the crony recovery. The economists Emmanuel Saez and Thomas Piketty found that 93 percent of the income gains from the 2009-10 recovery went to the top 1 percent of taxpayers. The top 0.01 percent captured 37 percent of these additional earnings, gaining an average of $4.2 million per household.

The second manifestation of crony capitalism is more direct: the tax perks, trade protections and government subsidies that companies and sectors secure for themselves. Corporate pork is a truly bipartisan dish: green energy companies and the health insurers have been winners in this administration, as oil and steel companies were under George W. Bush’s.

The impulse of the powerful to make themselves even more so should come as no surprise. Competition and a level playing field are good for us collectively, but they are a hardship for individual businesses. Warren E. Buffett knows this. “A truly great business must have an enduring ‘moat’ that protects excellent returns on invested capital,” he explained in his 2007 annual letter to investors. “Though capitalism’s ‘creative destruction’ is highly beneficial for society, it precludes investment certainty.” Microsoft attempted to dig its own moat by simply shutting out its competitors, until it was stopped by the courts. Even Apple, a huge beneficiary of the open-platform economy, couldn’t resist trying to impose its own inferior map app on buyers of the iPhone 5.

Businessmen like to style themselves as the defenders of the free market economy, but as Luigi Zingales, an economist at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business, argued, “Most lobbying is pro-business, in the sense that it promotes the interests of existing businesses, not pro-market in the sense of fostering truly free and open competition.”

IN the early 19th century, the United States was one of the most egalitarian societies on the planet. “We have no paupers,” Thomas Jefferson boasted in an 1814 letter. “The great mass of our population is of laborers; our rich, who can live without labor, either manual or professional, being few, and of moderate wealth. Most of the laboring class possess property, cultivate their own lands, have families, and from the demand for their labor are enabled to exact from the rich and the competent such prices as enable them to be fed abundantly, clothed above mere decency, to labor moderately and raise their families.”

For Jefferson, this equality was at the heart of American exceptionalism: “Can any condition of society be more desirable than this?”

That all changed with industrialization. As Franklin D. Roosevelt argued in a 1932 address to the Commonwealth Club, the industrial revolution was accomplished thanks to “a group of financial titans, whose methods were not scrutinized with too much care, and who were honored in proportion as they produced the results, irrespective of the means they used.” America may have needed its robber barons; Roosevelt said the United States was right to accept “the bitter with the sweet.”

But as these titans amassed wealth and power, and as America ran out of free land on its frontier, the country faced the threat of a Serrata. As Roosevelt put it, “equality of opportunity as we have known it no longer exists.” Instead, “we are steering a steady course toward economic oligarchy, if we are not there already.”

It is no accident that in America today the gap between the very rich and everyone else is wider than at any time since the Gilded Age. Now, as then, the titans are seeking an even greater political voice to match their economic power. Now, as then, the inevitable danger is that they will confuse their own self-interest with the common good. The irony of the political rise of the plutocrats is that, like Venice’s oligarchs, they threaten the system that created them.

End Article

Something to think about

 

Tim

The Official Un-Official Rules for Deal’Ems

A few months ago I wrote a blog about drinking games called Drink a Double. Quite a few people both near and abroad have asked me how to play Deal’Ems…a game I discussed. I have recently come across the rules written by a friend of mine (JuJu).

So here you have it; The Official Un-Offical Rules

DEAL’EMS

(The Game of NO Winners)

 Resolution

A Resolution to establish rules to govern “Deal’ems”,

WHEREAS, Deal’ems was created in the year 1971, by four adventurous Lads from Fremont Ohio. These fine American gentlemen, determined that just drinking their favorite beverage was not enough, and that playing cards for your favorite beverage was more fun, and that the beverages were meant to be chugged quickly and in mass quantities.

WHEREAS, there are no set rules or regulations governing play and the amount of “payments”. THEREFORE, let it be resolved, the following rules are here by established:

Preamble     (Hey whattaya doing . . . Playing Cards??)

A 52 card playing deck shall be dealt, one card at a time in a random manner, at the dealer’s discretion, resulting in ten (10) hands, five (5) hands for the dealer and five (5) hands for the opposing player. These are to be dealt in five (5) stacks of five (5) cards on each side. This will leave two (2) cards, one of which the opposing player will choose, leaving the last card for the dealer. These last two (2) cards will be regarded as “wild” cards for each respective side. These two (2) cards only determine the wild card and are not in play. In order  for your wild card to be in effect, it must be turned over on YOUR side ( it means nothing if turned over by your opponent ). If  BOTH wild cards are the same, then all drinking payments are to be DOUBLED.

Play begins by the opponent choosing one of the outer stacks and flipping over one card, then the dealer (choosing the stack directly across from where the opponent started), flips over cards until he beats the opponent’s first card. Once the dealer has a better poker hand, he ceases activity. The opponent then turns over cards until he has the best poker hand. This continues back and forth until the best poker hand has been determined. All cards must be turned over in the reverse order they were dealt, with the bottom card on top and face up. Whoever won the hand leaves their cards vertical, and whoever loses, turns their cards horizontal. This is needed to keep score of the game. The loser of each hand has to then drink determined units (you can determine your own measure of unit). The game continues until all five (5) hands have been played.

After the five (5) hands are played, the top five (5) cards facing up, represents the sixth hand. A winner is determined if he has won more hands than his opponent ( ex: 4 – 2 ). However, if after the game, each player has won three (3) hands, you have a tie, hence the nickname of the game of “The Game of No Winners”, you must play again until a victor has been rightfully determined.

The next rule is for when playing this game with more than two people in attendance that want to play. The loser of the game must stay on and face the next opponent, continuing to play until he has won. Then whoever lost to him must stay on play until someone finally surrenders.

  • If a player has to drink multiple units, he may so choose to go to the “well” and drink an agreed shot or shots to be negotiated between the two existing players.
  • If a player is taking too much time to drink his payment, his opponent may put him on the clock, this is usually done by the opponent stating the word “ten”, and then the countdown begins, 9. 8. 7. .etc. This isn’t usual practice unless the loser is taking an abnormal amount of time to drink his payment.

RULES FOR PAYMENTS:

Although this has been discussed many times, this is now in effect to simplify things. All payments are determined from the result of each hand played, including the use of wild cards that decide the final poker hand.

Winning hands / payments needed:

High Card                    One Unit

Pair                                One Unit

Two Pair                       One Unit

Three of a Kind          One Unit

Straight                         Two Units

Flush                              Two Units

Full House                   Three Units

Four of a Kind            Four Units

Straight Flush            Four Units

Royal Flush                 Five Units

Five of a Kind             Five Units

As previously stated, there are no set rules regarding payment of units, but the founding 4 used a 1/2 of beer as One Unit. Whereas the accepted custom is now 1/3 of a beer.

There you now have it…The Official Un- Official Rules!

Tim

My Google Earth Vacation To My Three Favorite Carl’s Jr’s

If you don’t know already…I love Carl’s Jr, especially  for breakfast. They make the Fully Loaded Breakfast Burrito…a 2lb (feels like it) burrito filled with egg, cheese, sausage, hash-browns and fresh pico de gallo

This particular Fully Loaded Breakfast Burrito was purchased at my favorite Carl’s Jr located in San Clemente, CA near the entrance to the Trestle Surf Break.

So in honor of Carl’s Jr…I give you in order by Google Earth Vacation Favorite Carl’s Jr’s;

Near the path to Trestles

Dana Point near Doheny (DoHo) Surf Break

Next to I-5 between San Clemente and Dana Point (my first Carl’s Jr)

There you have it. The next time you are fortunate enough to see a Carl’s Jr…We don’t have them in Ohio….Just Hardees…I know they are the same company…NOT THE SAME!!!!! Stop in and tell them Hi for me.

Tim