HEY FORGET ABOUT IT ~ EATING WITH THE BOYS AT THE CASINO

Original posted (c) January 21, 2010 (For'get about it! It still good in 2026)

Hey, you know the guys that talk out of the side of their mouths and wear dark-colored suits with yellow ties and sometimes have striped collars? 

Yeah! 

Thems guys that talk funny from down on Thurday-Thurd and Thurd Street down by the bowling alley.

Weees-guys like to eat with the family yous'noise occasionally. And hey, us guys are wise to good places to eat—yous'a know what'a I mean—bada-bing bada-boom!

Okay, you knows I been working all night. It seems like a racket sometimes: I just work, sleep, eat, have a drink with Vinnie, work, sleep, eat, and have another drink with Vinnie. I calls'er Vinnie, but her real name is Veronica. 

So weees this morning decided that I wanted to do something different than hang around with da boys at the donut hole. So's to change things up, I jumped in the ride with Vinnie and weees went out to visit the guys out at the Cherokee Indian Casino and have a little breakfast. Yeah, youse know those guys, wink, wink.

Walking through the front door, you are hit with a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and temptations all crying out like a siren on the rocks of a choppy sea to a lonely sailor. Them slots, you know, beckoning you with stories of quick fun and pleasures like a cheap stripper at the clip joint—but all the time they will be going through your pocket and hauling your money away faster than a pack-rat on crack. 

Them slots, you know, they knowns your name, but Vinnie and me are smarter guys than them slots. 

Sow'en we made our way past the glitter to the Flint Creek Cafe that is located inside the Cherokee Casino. The Cherokee Casino is located just west of the intersection of Oklahoma Hwy 59 and U.S. Hwy 412.

Now we ain't here to play, baby—weees here to eat. Me and Vinnie were met by a very charming young lady who asked if I wanted to have breakfast and how many were in my party. She seated us just inside the door, opposite the buffet dining area that opens for service later in the day. 

The cafe area was about half full of diners.

No sooner had we been seated than a young waitress asked what weees wanted to drink or if weees were ready to eat. Everyone knew what they wanted, so ordering was quick and simple. I had the second item on the breakfast side of the menu, amply named the "Whole Hog."

Our coffee was delivered quickly and, I might say, served up hot and fresh. Our food was delivered in short order too, to everyone's surprise. The food was hot and presented in a very appetizing arrangement. 

Now the Whole Hog was something else. One whole pound of sliced sugar-cured ham served up on a platter all by itself, garnished with a leaf of purple decorative cabbage and a huge strawberry. On a second—and equally as large—platter, I had three fried eggs cooked exactly as I asked for them: solid whites and runny yellows. A very generous pile of hash-brown potatoes that had been grilled crispy on both sides, and another decorative cabbage and another strawberry garnish.

A third, much smaller round plate had biscuits and white gravy on it. I passed on the toast for biscuits and gravy. 

I asked for some hot sauce, and a big bottle of Louisiana Hot Sauce was brought to the table, and the feast began.

The waitress was Johnny-on-the-spot, filling our coffee cups every time they began to look low. To be honest, I could not eat all the food even though I was hungry. I asked for a doggy bag, and the waitress cheerfully brought me a small box. The total cost was only $10.00 and change. It would have been 58 cents less except for some surcharge on the end. After all, weees guys have to make a little on the end of everything.

"Yous'a know what'a I mean—bada-bing bada-boom!"

(C) January 21, 2010 (For'get about it! It still good in 2026)

Thanks for stopping by — likes and comments are always welcome! After all I need the ego boost. 

© 2025–2026 All     Rights Reserved

“Please repost with full attribution to the author and copyright holder.”

FOOD STAMPS & WELFARE THIEVES

Original posted here in August 2012

Reprinted March 2026

FOOD STAMP FRAUD.

I purchase a considerable amount of my produce and meat from a Latin market here in my small town. The quality is consistently better—fresher fruits and veggies, great cuts of meat—and the prices normality beat the big chains by a noticeable margin. Plus, the owner is a genuinely nice guy: friendly, hardworking, and always up for a good conversation. 

We chat about food trends, local news, Mexico, whatever comes up.

The other day, I was telling him about something I witnessed at another store. A couple in their late twenties or early thirties came through the checkout with four young kids, probably ranging from about 4 to 9 years old.

The husband was a big, burly guy—healthy and strong-looking—wearing blue jeans, a sleeveless cowboy shirt, and a stylishly crushed straw hat like something out of a Toby Keith video. He had a four-day reddish-blond beard and a homemade-looking tattoo on one arm that read "SOUTHERN BOYS KICK ASS" (done with a pocket knife or ballpoint pen, from the looks of it).

His wife was attractive, slim and as they saying goes, "well-put-together," with long light-brown hair, designer jeans, and a nice, newer style blouse. They loaded up a few hundred dollars worth of groceries, mostly beef steaks, judging by the packages.

She paid with what people used to call a welfare card (now it's an EBT card for SNAP benefits, I believe). I guess the term "welfare card" isn't PC anymore—don't want to make anyone feel bad about relying on government help.

I paid for my bologna and processed cheese slices and headed out. Sure enough, their ride was parked right next to mine: a nearly new, massive Chevrolet Suburban. They were loading all those free steaks into it.

I mentioned the scene to my friend at the Latin market. He nodded like it was nothing new. "I see it almost every day," he said. He knows plenty of hardworking folks—business owners, people with new cars, nice homes—who pay with those same cards. He estimates more than three-quarters of his customers use WIC benefits (the program for women, infants, and children) to buy groceries.

He also mentioned that a lot of his Hispanic customers send money overseas through his services. And here's the part that really gets under my skin: most aren't legal citizens, yet they have WIC cards. According to him, there's a church in Springdale (I know the one) that helps walk people through the process of women getting monthly government checks and applying for these benefit cards. The husband normally work but the wives claim they have been abandoned, thus welfare and WIC cards. Whether it's for the kids or something else, it feels like a loophole being exploited.

To me, it's a straight-up scam. And the politicians we elect? They don't seem to give a damn. It's a disgrace.

What do you think—am I the only one noticing this?

Thanks for stopping by — likes and comments are always welcome! After all I need the ego boost. 

© 2025–2026 All     Rights Reserved

“Please repost with full attribution to the author and copyright holder.”

THE WRIGLEY FIELD HOME OF THE CUBS - HOT DOG

If you were at Wrigley Field Home of the Cubs you would have a Chicago Dog. All Beef wiener, tucked into  freshly daily baked poppy-seed bun that is toppped with sweet onions, "Sport" peppers, sliced tomatoes, kosher pickle spears, yellow mustard, neon-green relish, and a dash of celery salt.

Well guess what they have them at Landshark's Coney Island at Siloam Springs, Arkansas.  You can not tell the difference. They are fantastic, and Chris and Marcie buy the components for the Chicago Dog from the very same vendor and manufacture that has sold to Wrigley Field for over 50 years.
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It Ain't just a Hot Dog - It's a Landshark Coney

As a young boy living in Tulsa, Oklahoma, my dad used to treat me and my younger brother to the best coney's in the world.  About once or twice a month on a Saturday he would take us to downtown to the Coney Islander.  It was owned and ran by an old Creek who would scare the living hell out of you when he shouted over the counter "WHAT'DA YA WANT?"  When you gave him your order he would shout it out and everyone one of his brothers and other men on the line would repeat the order in turn.

Two Coneys ---- Two Coneys, ---- Two Coneys, and so on, and so on. When you ordered a drink it was the same you got a Pepsi Cola, no matter what you ordered, Coke Cola, Orange Crush, RC Cola or what ever. These little Coneys were the best little hog dogs in the world. Costing only 15 cents back in the "ole" days before I graduated high school. 

I still drive to Tulsa ever now and again to do business and while I am there I always try to get by one of half dozen or so Coney Islanders scattered across the city.  While I am there I make a side trip down South Mingo Street to 58th st to get my Coney fix. However, you do not have to drive to Tulsa any more to eat the best Coney Islander style Hot Dogs slash Coneys in the world. Yeap! There is fairness and Karma in the world if you live right. The world as many from the Siloam Springs area who know about Coney Islanders will tell you there is fairness. These delicious little dogs are here in the big town of Siloam Springs.
 

  Siloam Springs, Arkansas now has the best Coneys in the world; in my humble and bias opinion. Chris Livesay, known as the "LANDSHARK" during his football playing days at Siloam Springs high school.

Chris and his wife Marcie, have opened a mom and pops business on north Mt. Olive, in Siloam Springs, It is a family owned, family ran, family worked business, where Chris, Marcie and six kids all work there. From the oldest making the best coneys and hot dog in the world, to the youngest washing dishes, sweeping floors, and carrying out the trash. This is a family from the ground up.  Brand new, with a knock out sports decor designed interior supervised and build by Marcie. Arkansas Razor back photos, Jerseys from major baseball teams, antique sports memorabilia, and home town friendly service. Specialty buns cooked daily right here in town for the best custom dog you have every eaten....... PERIOD!  

One of the secrets to their Coneys is the bread steamer or warmer. The Landshark found an original bun warmer that was custom made over 55 years old, had it fully restored by the original maker...........SWEET!  My favorite is the Original Coney just like they made in Tulsa when I was a kid.  Fresh buns, with mustard, wiener, original chile, fresh chopped onions, and the whole pile topped with fresh shredded cheese. I am a big guy and two of these little guys fill me up. Top it off with a bag of chips, and ask for a drink. It want break you bank account, it is fast and you will be back.

I want to post more in the next few days, with a better address, etc. I just follow the smell of the fresh bread and those little golden brown wieners cooking up on that roller cooker to find some great eats.  Located in the shopping center on North Mt. Olive at the intersection of Tulsa Street (Interesting--Tulsa St--Coneys ☺)  between Bell's Office Supply Center, and the Beauty College.       

Okay, I am off to eat a Coney at the Landsharks---- It opened thirty five minutes ago, and I want to beat the rush. I love um!