Steve Danger Moore

@stevenmoore722.bsky.social

Notable expert on nothing. I am the tyranny of evil men, but I'm trying, Ringo, I'm trying real hard to be the shepherd.

Staten Island is considered one of the five boroughs. This is a place that is trying harder to not be part of NYC than anywhere I've ever been. It's like they get off the ferry in the west side of Cleveland and vow to never be a part of that concrete hellhole across the harbor.

Spent a half hour fixing my AC this morning. The blower motor went bad. I looked up the average cost for this and it was $2300. I bought a motor for $350 and put it in myself, so I saved $1950 which I'll probably spend on gas, I'm already back on Staten Island, lunch a Reggianos is in 20 minutes.

Goomba and Dave (Former FBI) are now good friends and have now dug into my birthday bottle of Saki. I'm keeping myself occupied by trying to play Can't You Hear Me Knockin' on the guitar, but keep drifting into Unchained by Van Halen because they're not that different and I've had too much rum.

Goomba and I were out on a walk/talk and a neighbor was headed the same direction. He was the same age (69) and recognized Goomba... by name. Former FBI agent assigned to the organized crime task force. They're still out in the front yard talking in low voices. It's like watching old sports rivals.

I once argued with a priest about being an atheist. He said I'm like a blindfolded man in a dark room looking for a black car that doesn't exist. I said we were similar. He was also like a blindfolded man in a dark room looking for a black cat that doesn't exist. The only difference is he found it

Goomba is bringing his buddies from the Patriarcha family over later for a card game. I'm making Sunday gravy on a Wednesday because they might know some things and also because I like to hear old greaseballs tell me I cook like their mothers. Garlic Parmesan wings are also on the menu.

I went to a funeral as a child and when they were lowering the casket into the ground, the priest said "To the father, the son and to the Holy Ghost." I didn't hear him correctly and for years I prayed saying "To the father, the son, into the hole he goes."

An Irishman is walking into a pub and a nun standing out front yells "You should be ashamed going into a house of sin, what would your mudder and fadder tink?" The man says, "They're dead, they're in heaven." The nun says "Well, you should tink about the damage it's causing to your health."

A nun is walking through a convent on her way to breakfast and as she passes another nun, the other nun says "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed." Then another says the same thing. This happens a dozen times more and she's livid by the time she reaches the kitchen.

Just got home because Goomba is rolling in any minute now. My neighbor's new baby is crying. As a dad, and a grandfather, there is no sweeter sound. We're going back to Staten Island tomorrow morning to have breakfast with some active Colombos. Some are in their 80s. Should be fun.

Just for yuks, how about we open a restaurant that has the common fucking sense to put really hot food on a room temperature plate rather than have a functionality illiterate moron bring you a plate out of the oven and warns you that it's hot as you grab it.