The pump don't work 'cause the vandals took the handle

Tomorrow

I wasn't going to mention this, but yesterday, April 12th, was my sister's birthday. She would have been 62. Out of all the people that I have known that have passed away she is the one who sometimes tricks my mind into believing that she is still around, and maybe I should give her a call or something.

Bedroom at midnight in black and white

Go man go

Dribble, dribble, dribble, the brain matter seeps through my pores.
Something, something, something ending up with whores.
Trying to come off as a psychotic beat just doesn't work for me.
Scootley boot doot, later.

Yo, Vinny!

I rented Brown Bunny today, and yeah the bj looked real, but the movie was more than a bj, it was actually pretty good in a desperate, aimless, downward spiraling, life is hell, next step breakdown city, lonely sort of way.

Please excuse my babbling if you've heard it before

Ok, so if you look at the time stamp you'll see that it's very early in the morning and that will probably make you wonder what's that crazy old boz doing up, let alone making a grammatically puzzling post, now.
Well excuse me for breathing, or better yet, excuse me for not breathing, which is pretty much precisely what I am not doing, breathing that is.
Yeah, I woke up and my nose was completely stuffed, stuffed as in major loss of oxygen to the brain which could lead to brain damage stuffed, that stuffed.
So, instead of breathing through my mouth, which I normally do 95% of the time, I panic and try even harder to breathe through my nose, and if your nose has ever been really stuffed up, you'll know just how much that hurts. So instead of breathing through my mouth I continue trying to breathe through my nose while frantically running around the house looking for nasal spray, and as bad as my sinus are you'd think I'd keep a bottle of nasal spray in the drawer of my night stand at all times, if I had a night stand that is, and I think I'm going to make a run to the St Vinny's thrift store and see if they have a suitable night stand in which I would most definitely keep a bottle of nasal spray at all times as I flail away at trying to end this sentence, there.
Yeah, I did find the nasal spray, it was in the top drawer of the dresser located where the night stand I don't have would be located if I had one, so I guess I really don't have to make a thrift store run after all, I mean, all I really have to do is self hypnotise myself into believing that the dresser is actually a night stand, and then count to three and clap, and hopefully I won't start barking like a dog and sniffing everybody's crotch like I did the last time I was hypnotized, and then everything will be alright.
And it is alright now, except for the fact that I can't shake this belief that I have deep down in my gut that the lacrosse team from Duke is some how involved in the disappearance of Natalee Holloway and that Greta Van Sustern is the scariest looking woman in the world.
Other than that, everything is all hunky dory from where I am sitting, which would be right here, in front of my computer, pouring out my thoughts, and hopes, and dreams to you in my hour of need, and yet still wondering where it all went wrong for poor Lester Jenkins.
Amen

The Giant V shaped indentation in my forehead

MB says it has been there since I was a baby and it's not a result of the satantic cult that my parents embraced during the 50s, and that it is only a coincidence that my middle name is Vance, which is short for Vance, Spawn of the Devil.

Chrissakes, could you at least knock!

What's Up Tiger Lily
A movie review, sort of.
Have you ever seen the movie What's Up Tiger Lily?
It was originally a Japanese spy flick, ala James Bond, released in the mid 60's.
Well, Woody Allen, yeah that Woody Allen, the Woody Allen who married his adopted step daughter once removed by marriage, the Woody Allen whose flicks really haven't been relevant since about 1977, yeah, that's the Woody Allen I mean, and you know Woody is kind of an odd name for a guy who probably hasn't sported any since about, yeah, since about 1977.

I'm sorry, but the demise of Woody into a sleazy comic punchline is just too much for me to take.

Did I ever tell you that when I was sixteen years old I ripped the Woody Allen Playboy Interview out of my brother-in-law's Playboy magazine and hid it in my secret hiding place and whenever I felt sad, or lonely, or misunderstood, I would whip it out ... the article, not my ummm, member, and ....
My favorite Woody joke from the interview was when he was asked about the sexual revolution he said something about sporadic guerilla warfare, and I wish I could remember some other really funny things he said in the interview, but hey, I was hopped up on speed and bennies during most of the sixties, nah ...
I just don't remember anything else.

Anyway, that interview appeared in the May 1967 issue of Playboy and yeah, here is the centerfold for that month, featuring the hauntingly air brushed, and minimally puffified Anne Randall, and yeah, this would probably be the part where I talked about Anne Randall and my member, and fuck, I was only sixteen, and unlike Woody I was sporting it almost 24/7, but I wasn't very popular, and I was extremely shy, so how else was I supposed to, you know, right, you know, ummm, quell the urge.





Oh, yeah, What's Up Tiger Lily was a really funny movie dubbed into English by Woody Allen about the top secret recipe for the world's best egg salad being stolen, and other stuff too boring to go into.
Thank you.

I'm running out of ways to appear winsome

Do you see a trend developing here?

Photo Op

A day in the life of me

So, I was driving north on US 23 today between East Tawain and Oscola when a guy crossed the highway to check his mail.
Another mile up US 23 the same guy was crossing back over with a handful of mail.
MY LIFE IS TURNING INTO A BAD STEPHEN KING SHORT STORY!!!

In other news:
MB said she needed my help today.
My god, she's fallen, she's bleeding, she's broken her hip, she needs to be rushed to the hospital.
Nah, she just asked if I would mine making a pan of cornbread for her.
Hey, as long as I don't have to eat it ... why not?
So I did, and it came out golden brown and after it cooled it popped right out of the pan, and according to MB it was delicious, but of course she could be playing me like she did was the laundry, and the time she asked me to wash her ... nevermind.
Is it considered making it from scratch if you use cornmeal?
I am a cooking god!

Lucinda Williams, Cactus Jack, Raising Arizona, and Me

Well, sometimes I get the menstrual cramps real hard.

Weird Dream #1493

I had a dream last night.
I was a contestant on some kind of dating show.
The premise of the show was that a woman picked four finalists out of a group of about twenty guys.
In the three times I was on the show I had made the final four all three times, which totally amazed everyone, including me.
The other three guys were always these good looking smart and loaded with personality type guys, and I was always the Bozzie that you see in here.
Also I was never around when the female contestant made her final four choices. I was always in the restroom, or asleep, or out grabbing a smoke and when I came back into the studio, without my shoes, someone would come up to me all surprised and everything and tell me that I had made the final four.
And on the outside I was all nonchalant, and blase, and oh really la di dah, la di fucking dah about it, but on the inside I was all YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!
And I would always sit apart from the other three finalists and crack jokes with the non-finalists.
And I was like probably in my thirties, because I don't think I am ever old in my dreams.
And whenever I was introduced as one of the finalists the studio audience would always roll their eyes, and laugh, and then finally applaud.
I don't remember if I won the first two times, but that really didn't seem to be important, just making it to the final four was the big thing.
Then on the third show the female contestant came up to the other three finalists one at a time and sat on their laps and asked each of them a few questions, and then when she started walking towards me I woke up with a hard on.
The End

Random Play Randomness

Vashti Bunyan - Window Over the Bay (I don't have the slightest idea who she is, but she has a great name, and maybe someone will be impressed that I so casually bandy her name about and give me love, sweet gypsy love.)
Donovan - First There is a Mountain (You aren't fooling anyone Ken, you're nothing but a suede-o hippie.)
Neil Young - Prairie Wind (Prairie is a very difficult word to spell.)
Cream - World of Pain
Del Shannon - Keep Searchin'
The Mavericks - Here Comes the Rain (Here comes the NEXT button)
Beau Brummels - Cry Some
The Beatles - Glass Onion (The walrus was Paul ... I knew it!)
Neil Young - Birds
The Kinks - Waterloo Sunset
Louvin Brothers - The Christian Life (My buddies shun me since I've turned to Jesus, but I still love them, they burden my heart, I'll try to lead them to walk in the light because I like the Christian life.)
Beau Brummels - Ain't That Lovin' You Baby
Manfred Mann - Pretty Flamingo
Dvl - Santa Baby (Stick with me toots, and I'll make you a star.)
Doc Watson and Andy Griffith - Crawdad Hole
Julie Driscoll and the Brian Auger Trinity - Season of the Witch (Oh man, I had such a crush on Julie Driscoll. I think she was after Grace Slick and before Buffy Sainte Marie.)
Lonnie Donegan - I Wanna Go Home aka The Sloop John B (Dammit, why isn't Lonnie Donegan in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame? You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.)
The Move - Fire Brigade
The Moody Blues - Timothy Leary's Dead (Hey, Ken, that song's about drugs, no shit Ken, really.)
Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous (Man, I love chick singers with a little twang in their voice and a harmonica wailing in the background.)
Richard Hell and the Voidoids - Love Comes in Spurts (Well, ch'yeah.)

G'night.

Video Bozzio

The Dance of the Baby Hippo.

I'm good, what about you?

Ok, I've been off zoloft for a little over a week now, and everything is going very well ... except for one little emotional episode which is really kind of embarrassing to write about, but what the hell.

On Friday the same L. Cohen album was in the car CD player from my drive home on Thursday, and the song The Old Revolution came on.
And yeah, it's one of my favorite songs from the album, so I always listen a little more intently when it comes on.
And I'm fine, and I'm singing along with L. Cohen in my best nasal L. Cohen voice.
And L. Cohen and I are singing:

I finally broke into the prison,
I found my place in the chain.
Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows,
all the brave young men
they're waiting now to see a signal
which some killer will be lighting for pay.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
you whom I cannot betray.

I fought in the old revolution
on the side of the ghost and the King ...

And L. Cohen and I are both into it.
And then we get to the next line:

Of course I was very young
and I thought that we were winning;
I can't pretend, I still feel very much like singing
as they carry the bodies away.

And I ...
I can't sing because I'm starting to tear up.
I mean, yeah tearing up to the point where I think I'm going to have to pull over to the side of the road, because I'm about to start bawling my eyes out.
I didn't understand it.
I mean, yeah, but ...
I don't know.
Just that song, just those lyrics, just touching some chord.
Lost youth.
Lost innocence.
Lost marbles.
It's odd, isn't it?


Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
you whom I cannot betray.

Lately you've started to stutter
as though you had nothing to say.
To all of my architects let me be traitor.
Now let me say I myself gave the order
to sleep and to search and to destroy.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
you whom I cannot betray.

Yes, you who are broken by power,
you who are absent all day,
you who are kings for the sake of your children's story,
the hand of your beggar is burdened down with money,
the hand of your lover is clay.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
you whom I cannot betray.

Personality Crisis

Boz's Johari Window

Use a fake name, so I won't know who you are.

The darker side
Boz's Nohari Window

We were very young and we thought that we were winning

I was listening to Leonard Cohen's Songs From A Room on the drive home last night and it flashed me back to when I was going to tech school at Keesler AFB, down in Mississippi, back in 1969.
I had a cheap record player, and a bunk on the second floor, right next to the fire escape.
And on Friday nights Thornberg, Johnson and I, and whoever else happened to be around, would congregate on the fire escape after lights out.
And we'd drink a little 3/2 beer.
Or if were lucky, somebody knew somebody, who know somebody, and there'd be a bottle of whiskey to pass around.
And we'd chain smoke Marlboros.
And we'd talk.
And we'd laugh.
And we'd rag on each other.
And then someone would put on an album.
And we'd listen to ...
Songs From A Room
Nashville Skyline
Abbey Road
The Band
Crosby Stills and Nash
And I don't know.
It just seemed so right.
It just seemed that we were the only people on earth who understood.
You know, really understood.
But it was probably just the smoke clouding our vision.
Or the booze clouding our minds.
Or maybe it was just the fact that were nineteen years old and were stuck out in the middle of Bum Fuck Mississippi, and we had to believe something just to make it through another Friday night.

This Weeks One Dollar VHS Purchase and kind of review

This week's One Dollar VHS tape from the Dollar Aisle at Sav-A-Lot is
Casa de los Babys directed by John Sayles.



This weeks selection was a hard choice. I was considering two other movies, one was Indian Runner directed by Sean Penn and based on the song State Trooper or Highway Patrolman by Bruce Springsteen, and now that I've thought about it I'm pretty sure it was Highway Patrolman, but really, what does it matter, I didn't get that one, but maybe next week, but ehhh, maybe not, because I've seen parts of it and it wasn't all that good.
And ahhhh, I can't remember what the other movie I was considering was, but it to doesn't really matter because I didn't choose it either.
So Yeah...
Casa de los Babys directed by John Sayles
And yeah, John Sayles is one of my favorite directors with such indie films as ...
fuck it, just read his bio at IMDB.
Casa de los Babys, as is typical in Sayles films, follows several story lines.
All of them pretty good and all centered around a mythical Latin American country whose chief export is babies.
Ok, I'm starting to get tired and confused.
Let me just say, that yeah, this is a pretty good movie and I think everyone should see it, and it's not just a chick flick even though it's mostly about women and babies, but still, yeah, it's still pretty good.
Did you see that Marcia GAY Harden is one of the stars?
I mean what kind of name is GAY, I mean she isn't GAY, but she is a bitch, well, not in real life, but in the movie she is, but no, she isn't GAY, but I'm pretty sure that Lili Taylor's character is GAY, and that Maggie Gylenhalleaictrid's character is rich, and that Darryl Hannah's character is New Age Freaky, and the other Mom Wannabe who I can't remember the name of is Irish, oh yeah, that would probably be Susan Lynch, and funny that doesn't sound Irish, does it, and yeah, I left out Mary Steenbergen, but she is just annoying, and she married a Whoopi Goldberg reject, so I mean, what the fuck!
I think I'm going to listen to that Springsteen song.
Seriously, I haven't been feeling all too well lately, and no it has nothing to do with the zoloft withdrawal, but maybe if I puked or something I might feel a little better.
Oh, I just remembered what the other movie was. It was the 1967 release How I Won The War, directed by Richard Lester, and starring that guy who played in Phantom of the Opera on Broadway, and John Lennon was in it too, and so were a lot of other English guys, and I think the reason I didn't buy it was because I had seen part of it before and the British accents were pretty thick, and it was arty pretentious like a lot of British films were in the 60s. The novel on the other hand was fucking hilarious, it least I thought it was hilarious when I was 18.

Buddy, can you spare me a dime?

Hey, what is up with you people?
I've been checking you out, and yeah, I know, I don't leave a lot of comments anymore, but still, I've been checking you out, and yeah, I've noticed I've been demoted from the exalted upper status of your links list to links list hell, yeah, that's right, you've got me listed under Google Search.
I am a fucking blog god, an icon, a legend, an innovator, I AM BOZ, fucking 4, fucking 8, fucking 7, fucking 3, fucking 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0.
And now I am less than Google Search.
Thanks, yeah, thanks a lot.
Hey, I didn't know you could personalize Google!!!
Cool.

He's the kind of artist rents a groovy little attic and discovers that he can't grow a beard

Don't bother me, leave me alone.
I'm caught in the 60's ... again.
Fred Neil
Richard and Mimi Farina
Leonard Cohen
I mean they're all here with me right now as I type.
Country Joe and the Fish
The Jefferson Airplane
The Stones
It's A Beautiful Day
The Young Rascals and the Rascals ... one group, two names, all grown up, it had to be the 60's.
Spirit
Captain Beefheart
Procul Harum
The Pretty Things - ok, I've never actually listened to the Pretty Things, but I've seen pictures, and trust me, they aren't pretty, but it's the 60's, dammit, the 60's!!!
John Mayall
Cream
The Small Faces ... the Fuckin' Small Faces, they's some crazy fuckers.
The Kinks, the Kinks, the Kinks, the forgotten gods of rock!!!!!!!!!!
The Byrds
Vanilla Fudge
Arlo "What'd ya get kid? I didn't get nuthin, and I had to pick up all the garbage." Guthrie
C'mon, admit, you wish you had the 60's floating around somewhere in your Medula Oblongata
The Paul Butterfield Blues Band
Jeff Beck
And ...
And ....
And .....
And ......
Fuck it, nevermind

I know who you are, and I know where you live

No time to post, no time to post, no time to post!!!
I've got to get my sort of brand new car up to the dealership because the fuel gauge is not functioning properly ... huh, the car is like six weeks old.
So yeah, and did I mention that my head has felt like it is on the verge of exploding all weekend, and it still feels like it, and the tylenol I just took gave me an upset stomach, and I had to buy a fat man belt this weekend too, but in other news there isn't any blood oozing out of any my orifices, so yeah, I've got to run.

A parody of a parody

Not Ready For Real World ... Blogger Style



The Real World ... Blogger Style

Let's do lunch, and then KILL KILL KILL

I think I'm going blind.
I think I'm going mad.
I think I'm going to be sick.
I think I'll sever the nerve just there in the back of my neck and maybe the pain will go away.
Seriously, I think I'll stick a finger down my throat and puke up the bile of 55 years of my wretched horrid life.
Or maybe I'll just have a popsicle.
Or maybe I'll just listen to some happy happy happy HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY DIE DIE DIE DIE music.
Jesus fucking christ, my head feels like it is about to explode!!!
I wonder if the SciFi channel is still running that Twilight Zone marathon.
Goodnight.

Pudding the an back in anarchy since 1971 ... mmmm pudding

I stumbled upon a group political blog just now at 5:46 in the morning.
So much hatred, so much hatred, so much hatred ... so ... much ... hatred.
Ok, I do not like political blogs which probably stems from my disdain for all things political, but it seems a lot of you people do, do like politics, or political blogs, I'm not sure, it's like 5:52 now and whatever sense I thought this post was going to make has gone the way of the Edsel, the Pinto, and the Santa Maria ...
Ok, yeah, a lot of you people are political, a lot of you people who I love and respect are political,
Or ...
A lot of you people who I have developed a certain asexual fondness for are political, and it's good that you hide this from me, but shouldn't you be required to put some kind of warning on these blogs ... huh???
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING BLOG MAY CONTAIN POLITICAL STUFF SO BOZ PLEASE KEEP OUT.
If you think it's easy being an idiot savant try walking a mile in my shoes one of these days when you aren't so busy with your politics and your political blogs, yeah!!!
Thanks, I feel better now.
Did somebody mention pudding?
I'm starved.

Don't get me started, but if you do make mine a Lone Star

Ok, so I saw the VHS version of Bubba Ho-Tep in the Dollar Section of the local supermarket the other day so I bought it. I'm not sure if it was new or used, but since the movie basically sucked the big red one it doesn't really matter.



Even the Velcro Monkey of Doom hated it, that's his hand in the corner trying to wave away the stink of the movie, and the VMD is a major Bruce Campbell fanmonkey from way back.
Actually, Bruce Campbell reminded me more of Kurt Russell as Elvis than he did of Elvis as Elvis, and we all know that ELVIS spelled inside out is LIVES, and if you throw in a superfluous R it spells LIVERS, and how many of you out there remember the message board called Superfluous Tube Socks, well, probably not many, because if you did it would still be around, and that's the first time that you people broke my heart, because I was the heart and soul behind Superfluous Tube Socks, and it still hurts, and I'll never forget it, and if Elvis were alive he wouldn't forget it either, because yeah, Elvis and me were close, yeah, closer than brother's, and no, those rumors about the two of us are totally untrue, in fact, I introduced him to Priscilla back in the day, I mean yeah, I was only eight at the time, but Priscilla was only 12, so it's possible I'm not totally full of bull shit, but yeah ...
Bubba Ho-Tep sucked.

Silly songs for 200

If you were to burn a CD that had to have songs with either the word
Georgia
or
Rain
or
Midnight
or
Train
in the title, what songs would you select?

Dazed and Confused

Ok, I got this great bargain today. A ten dollar pair of Led Zeppelin boxer shorts reduced to 85 cents. The only problem is they are a SMALL and I'm not.

So ...
If anyone would like a pair of MEN'S SMALL Led Zeppelin boxers let me know and they are yours. In case more than one person is interested I'll do a random drawing.
Absolutely no strings.



Front


Back

The little bird that could ...

Couldn't

Block

I'm having trouble with my short story Debbie Does Dallas, the Three Hundred Pound Samoan, and Me.
But I can tell you a little bit about it.
There's a 300 pound Samoan, obviously.
There's a teenage girl running down the street at two in the morning, wearing nothing but a hospital gown, being chased by a very angry nurse.
There's an alcoholic known as Shakey Jake.
There's two porno theaters located next door to each other.
There's a black guy with a secret.
There's a short Jewish guy with an illegal beard.
There's a Hispanic limo driver and part time pimp.
And, uh, there's me.
Oh yeah, and then there's Debbie ... and Dallas.

Buzznet Audio

I'm not pushing Buzznet or anything, but you can now upload mp3s to your account for all the world to hear.
Check out my tunes and try to tell me I don't have my finger on the pulse of America ... nay, the worlds' musical tastes.
Right here ...
Click on Launch Player, or something.

It's as if ...

I don't know what to think now.
I took the cover off the birds' cage at six thirty this morning, and there she was all scrunched up, sitting on the perch, in the corner, all by herself, staring me straight in the eye as if to say:
I'm not dead yet mother fucker.

Don't tell me I don't have any fucking empathy

Ok, this is getting pretty fucking freaky.
The dying bird, right.
So, I'm sitting here, not doing anything, minding my own business when I hear this one lone plaintive little chirp, the kind of chirp that just breaks your heart, and I'm thinking, well, it can't be long now. Then about a minute or so later, I hear another chirp, just as plaintive and heartbreaking as the last one, and I'm thinking, way to go bird, do not go gentle into that good night. Then another minute or so later, and another chirp, I mean, surely this one must be the death rattle, right, and I'm thinking how am I going to break this to MB, I mean she takes this kind of thing a lot harder than I do. Then, I don't know, a couple of minutes later, I hear another chirp, and I mean, I'm just about on the verge of tears here, the zoloft you know. So I decide I'm going to check on the birds, I mean, they're covered up for the night, but dammit, I mean, shit, nobody wants to die alone in the dark, do they? So, I'm in the living room trying to screw up enough courage to look in the cage, and then I hear another chirp ... and I look up ... and it's the fucking smoke detector and the weak fucking battery signal!
Yeah, it's the zoloft, the fucking zoloft!

Bereft of life

I am kind of bummed out tonight.
I had planned on starting a somewhat more ambitious writing project this weekend that I had hoped would lead to a short story that I could submit somewhere for publication.
I was going to call it Debbie Does Dallas, the Three Hundred Pound Samoan, and Me and it would have been a mostly true account about a week I spent in San Angelo Texas when I was in the Air Force back in the summer of 1971.
But like I said, I'm kind of bummed tonight.
I'm pretty sure that one of my two remaining birds is about to die. It's the same bird that I thought was about to die last summer, I mean, that's the trouble with this particular bird, she's such a keep to herself little bird that she always looks like she is about to die, but yeah, this time I think it is for real, yeah, if falling off the perch every ten minutes is any indication, I think it's for real.
I'm not bummed because this particular bird is dying, I mean it's just a bird, not a dog or a cat, or a second cousin, it's just a bird. I get bummed when anybody or anything is about to die ...
Colonel Blake from MASH
Charlotte from Charlotte's Web
Billy Joe McAllister from Ode to Billy Joe
Yeah, they all bummed me out, and of course ...
There's this whole zoloft thing.

Ok, I'll still write the short story, I'll just throw a dying bird into the mix.

Playing right field and batting clean-up for your Cleveland Indians

I think this zoloft withdrawal is starting to get to me.
I saw that guy again today. The guy with the empty gas can.
Only today he was in black face and wearing a Cleveland Indian's baseball cap.
Ok, it is Minstrels Eat For Half Price at the Holiday Inn today, but still ...

Even then, and then even more so

Oh
I can't get over the fact that it isn't Monday. I mean all day has been Monday to me, even after five minutes ago of just realizing that it's actually Thursday I'm back to thinking that it's Monday.
No, not last Monday, but next Monday. I talk about the past a lot, but I don't live in it, thank you very much.
I also feel like singing show tunes from some 50's Broadway musical, like I'm some kind of 21st century Howard Keel.
I hope this can all be explained away as zoloft withdrawal.

An exercise in writing at three thirty in the morning ... Part two

When I was in Burger King this afternoon a man walked in carrying an empty gas can.
He ordered a double cheeseburger and a carton of chocolate milk. He set the gas can down and nudged it along with his foot as he moved through the line. While he waited for his order he shared a joke with the teenage boy behind the counter and they both laughed. When his order was ready he picked up his gas can with one hand and his tray with the other and walked to a booth by the far exit. I didn't see him after that because I was facing in the opposite direction and I didn't want my curiosity to appear obvious. About five minutes later I got up to go get a refill on my coke and shot a glance his way, but he was already gone, along with his gas can, and his fumes.

Dr Hunter Douglas ... the College Years

Dear Penthouse Forum,
I never thought this would happen to me.
Last night I was at the college Laundromat all by myself when all of a
sudden Tiffany the head cheerleader walks in to do her laundry.
Tiffany looked at me and said hi, and I smiled and I answered back hi
too. After Tiffany loaded all of her cheerleader unmentionables in the
machine she realized that she didn't have any soap. So she came up to
me and asked if I had any soap. I told her that I did, that I
had lots of soap, and when I reached over to get my soap to give to
Tiffany I could sense that she was staring at my nine and a half
inches of throbbing manhood as it pressed against the thin material of
my sweatpants, and right then and there Tiffany fell down on her knees, and told me that I was hotter than Brad the college football quarterback.
Tiffany then pulled down my sweatpants and my maroon Fruit of the Loom boxer briefs and proceeded to orally pleasure me.
After what seemed like hours I shot my hot man juice and Tiffany proceeded to swallow every bit of it even though it must have been at least a quart load. We then went back to our laundry totally ignoring each other for the rest of the night.
Then while walking on campus this morning I spotted Tiffany with some of her cheerleader girl friends.
I could tell that Tiffany wanted to say hi to me, but when her cheerleader friends started pointing and laughing at me Tiffany had to pretend to ignore me.
All I know is that I can't wait until the next time I have to do laundry, and you can bet I will take lots of soap.
Yours Truly
Hunter ... College Student

The latest from Doctor Hunter Douglas ... Under Cover Spam Police

I received this email this morning:
Dear Hunter Douglas,

(May the Lord God be with you and your family amen). Thanks for your response. As I told you earlier, because of my illness, I am leaving the process of the transfer of this money from here to be handled by one of the trusted Doctors here in the hospital. I have told the doctor about you and the doctor requsted to talk to you on phone. Please let me have your telephone number so that the doctor will be able to speak with you. Please also remember that, your bank account will be needed for the transfer of the money, so please send your bank account informtion so that I will send it to the bank for the transfer procedures to continue.
I wait for your urgent response.
Yours,
Elizerbeth.

My reply:

My Dearest Elizerbeth,
Thank you for making your last letter so much shorter because
sometimes my attention span is too short to read really long letters.
Don't worry though, I read most of your earlier letters all the way
through, at least the parts that I understood.
Can this doctor man at the hospital be trusted? Because even though I
am myself a doctor I have a hard time trusting other doctors because
of this one time when I was going to doctor school a classmate of mine
who was also going to doctor school and who was named Dr Pepper kept
telling me that Nurse Beverly, she was the prettiest nurse at the
doctor school, anyway Dr Pepper kept telling me that Nurse Beverly
said she would like to have sex with me. I hope I don't offence you
when I say sex just like that, but this was before I was a borned
again Christian and there were many times where all I could think of
was having of the sex. Of course when I asked Nurse Beverly to have
sex with me she laughed in my face and told me if I ever bothered her
again she would tell her doctor boyfriend named Doctor Popeye about it
and he would hit me till I hurt real bad.
So this is why it is important that I know if your doctor friend can be trusted.
You also told me that you would like to send me a picture of yourself
and your now dead husband. I would really like this because I would
like to see what you looked like before you got so sick and before
your husband got so dead. If possible could you send me a picture of
the two of you at the beach, you know, wearing bathing costumes.
I am awaiting your further instructions
Jesus Loves Me, and I'm Pretty Sure He Loves You Too,
Hunter Douglas, Doctor of Lycanthropic Surgery, University of My Lady
of the Screaming Virgins

Read the rest of the thread here.

A tale of two tire irons

Okay, for the most part I think this is a pretty good post.
But, ahhh, it's been pointed out to me that the following line is a bit over the top.

As I stopped and rolled down my window the woman looked at me nervously, reached into the front seat of her car and pulled out a tire iron.

And, yeah, I'd have to agree with that assessment, so, I give you ...

Ten things she could have pulled out of the front seat instead of a tire iron.

1. She reached into the front seat and pulled out a copy of The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.
2. She reached into the front seat and pulled out a reuben sandwich with sauerkraut.
3. She reached into the front seat and pulled out an Elvis impersonator who also happened to be a midget.
4. She reached into the front seat and pulled out ... this isn't going too well is it?
5. She reached into the front seat and pulled out ... I mean when I was driving back from the video store earlier tonight I couldn't stop laughing at the possibilities.
6. She reached into the front seat and pulled out ... but hey, if you're looking for something really good you should try the Dr Hunter Douglas Undercover Spam Police thread right here.
7. She reached into the front seat and pulled out ... so far so good on quitting zoloft, oh yeah, and I'd like to thank Grampa for his encouragement ... worse than heroin withdrawal, yeah, geez, thanks a lot.
8. She reached into the front seat and pulled out ... hey, have any of you heard of a group named Rilo Kiley, I kind of like them, I kind of like them a lot.
9. She reached into the front seat and pulled out ... I watched Family Guy for the first time ever last night, and you know the daughter, well, she'd be pretty cute for a cartoon chick in an emo type way if her boobs were a little bigger, and you know, if I were a teenage cartoon guy I think I could get my freak on for her.
10. She reached into the front seat and pulled out ... TWO HUGE FREAKING TIRE IRONS, AND A GUN, AND A KNIFE, AND SOME OF THOSE NINJA THINGS.

Dear Elizerbeth

Dr Hunter Douglas ... of the Undercover Spam Police replies to Mrs Elizerbeth Rajan.

Dear Elizerbeth,
May I call you Elizerbeth? It's such a pretty name.
I'm sorry to hear of your soon to be fatal illness. If you'll pardon my French, that must really suck.
Yes, yes, yes, I am the one to be entrusteded with your late husbands and your soon to be late hard earned money.
I agree it should be used for the poor orphaned children and that god stuff you mentioned too.
May I suggest that we make a substantial donation to the Jacko Jackson Home for Boys With No Parents and Cute Bottoms? It has always been one of my favorite charities.
You ask about my familybackgrand. I am sad to report to you that it was quite tragic. My original parents were killeded while doing missionary work in the small south sea island nation of St Boz on the Half Shell when they were mistaken for breakfast by a local indigenous tribe. After that I was raised by an older couple by the name of Mr and Mrs Carney Folk.
Alas, you are weak, and ill, and I am afraid my tales of woe can only weaken you more.
Tell me what you need of me, and please hurry, because you sound really really sick.
Yours in God and all Godlike things
Hunter Douglas, Doctor of Lycanthropic Surgery, University of My Lady
of the Screaming Virgins

Dr Hunter Douglas of the Undercover Spam Police is back in business

I sent this email in reply to an internet scam email I received the other day.

Dear Mrs Elizerbeth Rajan,
I am also a borned again Christian, and after thinking on your
propositon for two days without food nor drink, our God, the big man,
came to me in a visison and told me to put my trust in you Mrs
Elizerbeth Rajan.
Yours in Jesus and God,
Hunter Douglas, Doctor of Lycanthropic Surgery, University of My Lady
of the Screaming Virgins

I received her reply today.
See all the correspondence here.

Z is for zombies, and zoloft and z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z

So here's the thing.
I'm trying to streamline my life a little bit, cut out some of the excess baggage, get back to fighting trim, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, and the blah you rode in on.
So, when I had my annual check-up last week I asked my doctor if I could stop taking zoloft ...
Zeke ...
Ziggy Stardust ...
The big Z ...
Zetc, zetc, zetc ...
Ok, zoloft is mostly prescribed for depression, but it's also prescribed for anxiety, and yeah, anxiety, that's why I'm taking it.
And I don't want to hear any of your zoloft horror stories because it's taken me from the brink of insanity to the brink of sanity, and really what more can you ask for from your friendly neighborhood pharmaceutical???
So, yeah, the doctor said I could cut out the zoloft. Right now I'm taking 50 megs every other day for two weeks, and then after that I stop cold ...
Ummm, yeah, things could get strange for awhile, but stick with me, and if I get too whiggy you have my permission to take me aside and, you know, sort of give me a talking to.
Ha, I had to go back because I typed persimmon instead of permission.
Ummm, yeah, so it's been six years, and ummm, yeah, and zoloft has become sort of like the brother I never had, or never particularly wanted, and ummm, yeah, and when did my knuckles get so hairy???
I think I'd better go back to bed now, you know, to sleep, or ummm, sleep, yeah, that's what I need, a little sleep.
So, ummm, don't forget to unplug the coffee maker when you leave, ok.

It's like raisin bran without the raisins

What's it really like?

It's like that song by ABBA that always pops into my head as soon as I step into the shower.

It's like that dream where I get lost in the halls between classes in high school.

It's like that one time I smoked hash and saw Jesus, and Mao, and Che, and Malcolm X, and Lenny Bruce taking on the Harlem Globetrotters at the Garden in NYC.

It's like reading a book in a moving car and getting a headache that lasts a week.

It's like the time I ran head first into a tree while playing touch football and after assuring everyone I was alright I took two steps and passed out cold.

It's like the time I ate fruit cake because there was nothing else to eat.

It's like that time in 1971 when I was in the Dallas/Ft. Worth airport waiting for a connecting flight to Detroit and I couldn't take my eyes off that skinny girls ass who was wearing a way too short pair of cut-off jeans.

It's like sitting at the computer at two in the morning with my feet propped up listening to the wind howl, and the computer hum, and my ears ring, and, and, and, and, and ...

Yeah, it's just like that.

Today

I'm sitting here in this funky old shirt that my nephew, the male model, gave me about ten years ago. I think it was part of the wardrobe he wore in a modeling job he was on for either JC Penny, or Dillards, or maybe it was some kind of college magazine supplement he was involved in, who knows!
I used to make fun of him and call him Kyle the Male Model, which was odd because his name isn't Kyle, but you know, Kyle sounds like a good name for a male model, but he didn't like it, I guess male models are pretty thin skinned when it comes to their craft ...
So I don't know if he gave me this shirt as a present or as pay back. It doesn't matter though because I only wear it when I am desperate to make a post.

Me, in the funky old shirt busting a male model move that my nephew the male model taught me, the nephew that isn't named Kyle, and who has no sense of humor.

An exercise in writing at three thirty in the morning

As I was driving home last night just before dusk and before the fog had settled in I saw a car with it's hood up on the other side of the road. There was a little girl with a toy whistle in her hand leaning against the back bumper of the car. The girl was singing softly to herself while she nonchalantly kicked at the pebbles near her feet. Her mother was talking on a cell phone and gesturing frantically. As I stopped and rolled down my window the woman looked at me nervously, reached into the front seat of her car and pulled out a tire iron. The woman then called towards her daughter. The little girl looked up, then looked towards her mother, and then towards me. The little girl then dropped her whistle and ran for her mother. I rolled my window back up and drove away eyeing the car in my rear view mirror until it was out of sight.

The Three Penny Opera

So, I remember when I was a kid, a kid kid, you know about seven or eight years old, and cigarettes used to cost like twenty seven cents a pack, and if you bought them in a cigarette machine for thirty cents,
whoa, there used to be cigarette machines Uncle Boz,
well, yeah little Timmy of course there were, it was the 50's and anything was possible,
and if you bought them in a cigarette machine for thirty cents there would be three pennies taped to the pack of cigarettes, and if you were a cool teenage guy who had a car you would tape the pennies to the dashboard of your car until you had hundreds of dollars in pennies, which would probably make your dashboard more valuable than the rest of your car, unless of course you were the boyfriend of the cheerleader girl, radiant in her auburn haired ponytail and bobby sox, who lived down the street and you had a part time after school and all day Saturday job bagging groceries at the Wrigley's supermarket in the Eastgate Shopping Center, and you were able to afford a metallic baby blue 1958 Chevrolet Biscayne 2 door coupe that you took to the body shop and had the name Blue Tango three color detailed on the right rear quarter panel, a car which by the way I have still have dreams about, dreams which mostly include the cheerleader girl, radiant in her aurburn haired pony tail and bobby sox, who lived down the street, well then, that would be different.
But I digress.
Click.

(((CLICK)))

Last one out get the light.

Survey

I'm taking a little survey.
Please leave a comment if you stop by.

I don't know why I bother

MB went to get her hair done today, but she wants me to write the check when I go and pick her up.

Boz: How much does she usually charge and how much of a tip do you give her?

MB: She charges ten dollars and I give her a four dollar tip because I don't want to write a check with the number thirteen in it.

Gourmet 911

If you are dying for a Cherry Coke but all you have is regular Coke just add a couple of cherry cough drops, your mouth won't know the difference.
This only works if you have cherry cough drops though, so make sure to stock up on cherry cough drops, and while you're at you should probably stock up on Cherry Coke making this whole post quite a conundrum, or that thing that is something like a conundrum only different.

This just in ...

Reese Witherspoon hides her Oscar in her chin ...



And forgets to floss in like forever.

And it's only 10:30 in the morning

What a crappy day this is turning out to be.
I woke up at about six this morning and for no reason at all my lower back started hurting, ok, hurting probably isn't the right word. I woke up at about six this morning and my lower back felt like someone had stuck a knife in it and ripped out a kidney, or a spleen, or a liver, or whatever organ there happens to be in the lower back region.
So, I took a couple of tylenol and tried to go back to sleep.
I tossed and turned, every move like another twist of the knife and then about 7:55 I started to drift off ...
Fuck this long drawn out narrative......
My back is killing me.
I couldn't fall back asleep.
The power company shows up outside my bedroom window at eight o'clock and start playing the Hallelujah Chorus on a plethora of chain saws as they cut down what seems to be every tree in the free world.
So fine, I get up and turn on the television ... and the fucking power is out!!!
Why is the fucking power out???
Because the fucking power company turned it off ... the right bunch of bastards!!!!!!!
So, I'm laying in bed at nine thirty in the morning, half asleep, in terrible pain, listening to the guys from the power company just out side my window argue about where they should go to lunch this afternoon, and the house is getting cold ... because the fucking power is out, and maybe I should just get up and try to do something ... do what, the power is out you fucking moron!!!!!!!!!!!
So I just lay there and for lack of anything better to do I start obsessing about the drs appointment I have this afternoon. The drs appointment where I will be probed and groped, and generally violated physically, verbally, and emotionally all in the name of preventive medicine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So anyway, the power is back on, but my back still hurts, and the house hasn't warmed up yet, and I'm still obsessing on my drs appointment for this afternoon, and wishing I had a woman doctor so the probing and groping, well you know ...

Is it a sin to want to be popular in a non-person kind of way?

Ok, I've succumbed to the peer group pressure and created a My Space account.
Hey, blogging can only take me so far to where I want to go.

Make a fist

I had to fast last night and go to the hospital for a blood test this morning. No biggie, it's just for my annual check-up next week. However, I did make the mistake of walking past the hospital cafeteria on the way out and I haven't been able to get rid of the smell of hospital food all day ... hospital BREAKFAST food all day.

Just another chocolate pie after midnight dream

I had this weird dream last night
I had asked some girl to go to the prom with me, which in itself was a
surprise to me that I had the guts to do it, and she accepted. I guess
the prom was a pretty big deal, because in the school they had big interactive
displays and dioramas and stuff on what it was it going to be like, and your parents were invited to check out the displays, and they pointed and ooohed and ahhhhed, and everyone was really proud of how the prom was shaping up.
Then I met this other girl who I really wanted to take to the prom instead,
and seriously, the first date was just some
generic girl, a date of convenience, the second girl was the one I really wanted
to take, and isn't this starting to sound like that one episode of Eight Is Enough where Tommy Bradford had two dates for the prom.
Ok, this being a dream and all the time line isn't all that important, you know how dreams sort of ping pong around and everything.
So anyway the dream now flashes forward to the prom and I am sitting at a long table
waiting for whoever my date is going to be to show up.
Edith Bunker, huh, Edith Bunker was sitting three places down from me, and this was not the long suffering Edith Bunker, this was the Edith Bunker from the
episode of All In The Family where she was going through menopause, and Edith was really pissed off. Edith was pissed because everyone else had already been served their
dinner and she hadn't, and she is bitching and cussing and moaning and
yelling at all the waiters. Someone then offered Edith a tangerine as a
means of calming her down, but Edith took the tangerine and threw it
against the wall and yelled ...
"I don't want no damn tangerine, I want my salad".
Then I woke up.

Feel free to lay a little pop psychology dream interpretation on me, I'd be glad to hear it.

The guy who walked into the sea and ended up in Greece

After I had been stationed on Crete for a couple of months I got a new roommate. He was a three striper that had transferred in from Clark AFB in the Philippines.
I really didn't know much about his Philippines past, but I did know that he was a born again Christian who found religion on the roof of a whore house in Manila.
Yeah, he was a born again Christian and I ... wasn't, and we didn't get along so well, or so good, depending on your grammatical preference.
There was no out and out aggression on either of our parts, everything was more on the passive -aggressive side. He'd leave his Bible opened and bookmarked to certain passages, and I'd leave my Playboys out opened to the center fold.
So yeah, we didn't get along so well and after about a month he moved into another room in another dormitory
However, we did work in the same building and our paths did cross on a daily basis, and I guess the part about not having to live in the same room together sort of mellowed both of us out a little, and no we didn't become friends, but we did become friendlier.
Anyway, he started hanging around at the USO Club and he became friends with another three striper and his wife, who were also born again Christians. So it looked like a good deal for the three of them.
A couple of months later my ex roommate transferred to another building and we rarely saw each other anymore.
Then I started hearing rumors about him and the other guys wife, but you were always hearing rumors like that, and so I didn't pay much attention to it. I mean yeah, I knew there was an attraction there, but I didn't think my ex-roomie would ever act on it.
Well, he didn't, but the attraction and the feelings he felt for the other guys wife were real, so he did what he thought was the right thing to do. He downed a bottle of Excedrin and tried to drown himself by walking out into the Mediterranean Sea.
I'm not sure if he was found, or if he had second thoughts, or whatever, but his attempt was unsuccessful and he wound up in the psych ward at some military hospital in Germany.
After his stint in the psych ward they transferred him to Athens which the powers that be figured would be best for all parties concerned, and maybe it was because that was the last I ever heard about him.
But yeah, that still shows you how powerful the act of suicide really is. Even though he was unsuccessful, and even though we were never really friends, and even though we were just barely acquaintances, here it is 35 years later and I still remember it like it was last month.

Do my new glasses make my jaw look square?

My everyday glasses.



My computer glasses.

Take my new Quizilla quiz

Are you a potential serial killer?

Hey Boz, where ya been?

Ok, yesterday I had some kind of 24 hour head cold, actually it could be some kind of 48 hour head cold because I still have it, and I didn't leave the house.
I spent most of the day sleeping, watching a one dollar DVD with ten episodes of Dragnet, or screwing around on the internet.
Yes, I could have posted in here. I could have, but as you have probably noticed my posting standards for The Grand Ennui are extremely high, so I didn't, didn't post that is.
That however did not stop me from posting on two of my other blogs where my standards are much lower.
Much lower where much lower equals non-existent.
So, if you about to dial your local suicide prevention hotline because of your need for boz, STOP ...
And check out
The Real World ... Blogger Style
Jonnie and Boz's 99 Cent Blog
And
The comments on this post of The Rebel Leady Boy Scrapbook.

Oh yeah, don't forget to check out what could be the next adventure on Dr Hunter Douglas ... Undercover Spam Police.

Nurse Ratched, didn't I just take my meds an hour ago?

Calling Dr. Hunter Douglas ... Calling Dr. Hunter Douglas ... Calling Dr. Hunter Douglas

This looks like a job for Dr. Hunter Douglas ... Under Cover Spam Police.

What do you think?
Should he take the assignment?

Not reality

I've got a head ache and the winds outside are gusting to 40 miles per hour.
Just give me the lethal injection now and I'll silently drift away.
Peep, peep, peep.

You You

I've been tagged for a MeMe by RebelLeadyBoy.

Four jobs I’ve had:
1. Landscaper
2. Burger King
3. Clerk in a Record Store
4. Air Force

Four movies I can watch over and over:
I don't watch movies over and over again, but there are some movies that whenever they are on tv, and no matter what part of the movie I tune in on, I can sit and watch for ten or twenty minutes and enjoy.
1. To Kill A Mockingbird
2. A Christmas Story
3. Lone Star
4. Night of the Living Dead

Four places I’ve lived:
1. Roseville, Michigan
2. Keesler AFB, Biloxi, Mississippi
3. Iraklion Air Startion, Crete
4. Hakata Air Station, Kyushu Japan

Four TV shows I love:
There are no current tv shows that I watch regularly, but in the past I couldn't miss these shows.
1. St. Elsewhere
2. Tenko
3. Lou Grant
4. Hill Street Blues

Four highly regarded and recommended TV shows I haven’t seen (much of):
1. American Idol
2. ER
3. Scrubs
4. 24

Four places I’ve vacationed:
1. Tennessee
2. Florida
3. New Jersey
4. South Dakota

Four of my favorite dishes:
1. Pizza
2. Chocolate
3. Potato Wedges
4. HAM!!!!

Four sites I visit daily:
1. Real World ... Blogger Style
2. Stone/Star Strobe
3. Hijacked Frequencies
4. Two Thoughts Before the Epiphany

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Santa Cruz, California
2. Austin, Texas
3. Someplace in Europe
4. Tokyo, Japan

Four bloggers that I am tagging:
1. Francis Pottie
2. Bhagarna, the Foreign Man
3. Dr Hunter Douglas ... Male Psychiatrist
4. Dr Hunter Douglas ... Undercover Spam Police

Beverly, behind the counter

There was this girl
This girl named Beverly
That suddenly appeared in my life out of nowhere when I was ten years old
It was fourth grade
And we were in the same circle
In the same circle but we never quite touched
And she was pretty
And she had dark brown hair
And brown eyes
And the fullest softest lips that made me want to rip open my shirt and show her the tattoo on my chest that read
Beverly, won't you please be mine
But of course I never did
And as ten became eleven and then twelve
Our circles split and spiraled in different directions
And I would occasionally see her in the hall
In school
With some guy hanging on her arm
With some guy hanging on her every word
And as we passed there would be that urge to reach up to my shirt ...
Because she still had the softest fullest lips
But of course I never did
Then, on an unseasonably warm day in late March of 1969
Just a few days before I left for the Air Force
I walked into a bakery?
A deli?
A market?
And there she was, Beverly, behind the counter
She looked tired
She looked pale
She looked bored
But she still had those soft full lips that now shimmered under pink lipstick
And I stammered
And I stuttered
And I placed my order
And I reached up to my shirt ...
And I pulled out my money
And I paid for my purchase
And I picked up my bags
And our circles sort of merged again for a brief moment
And I said, nice to see you again Bev
And she said, yeah, it is
And I walked out the door
And that was that
Unless you count the odd nights when I can't sleep
And I think of her soft full lips
And Beverly, behind the counter

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE
Beverly, in living black and white.
I'm also in there somewhere too.

Tuesday morning at 4 am

I see a girl standing on the corner, her hair just right, her clothes too tight, her whites too white, an angel, a whore, the girl next door, the gorilla my dreams, the who's that knocking at my door, and I stop and blink, and I try to speak, to ask for the truth, to seek out her truth, she is gone like a flash, like a bump in the night, no essence, no aura, just the sweet smell of creosote as she is sucked through some cosmic hole in the ozone, and there I am, the me of fifty years ago, the me of forty years ago, the me of thirty years ago, the me of twenty years ago, the me of ten years ago, ten months ago, ten weeks ago, ten days ago, ten hours ago, ten minutes ago, ten seconds ago, the me that is the present that is now the past, and every me that will ever be me, and there I am, just left to scratch my head, to sit and wonder, to stand and deliver, my eyes wide open and my mouth agape, and man, isn't that some crazy kind of shit.
Spell check complete.
(No Errors Found)

In honor of Presidents Day

Who would you vote for?
1. Hillary Clinton or Jeb Bush
2. Zack Morris or A.C. Slater
3. Coke or Pepsi
4. Ice dancing or break dancing
5. Uncle Jesse Duke or Uncle Jesse Katsopolis
6. Todd De La Muca or Lisa Loopner
7. John Cusack or Joan Cusack
8. Jimmy Stewart or Gary Cooper
9. Radar O'Reilly or Max Klinger
10. Me or someone just like me

The powers that be

The power has been going off and on, due to high winds and ice, since seven o'clock last night.



So I went and picked up some more candles and lighters, and what is it with lighters that you can never find them when you need them.
Whatever

The post that never was

I lost power for 4 hours tonight due to an ice storm. Do you realize just how boring it can get? Well, trust me, it can get real boring.
So I ended up writing a post almost in the dark
[Click for full size image]

Give me an s, give me an e, give me a yadda yadda yadda

So anyway, I was in the store yesterday and there was a mother who kept yelling at her out of control daughter to settle down. The daughter's name was Serenity.
I wonder if the mother understood the irony of the situation?
Her brother Caleb was unavailable for comment.
Child psychologists everywhere are licking their chops in anticipation.

An observation

People who use the computers in the library are very quirky, not in an endearingly Natalie Portman as she appeared in Garden State-ish way, but more in a Tourette's
(fuck, fuck, fuck, blow me, eat shit, whore, bastard, rim job, dingle berry, dingle berry, dingle berry)
Syndrome, reeking of urine-ish way.

But ... but ... but ...

So, what did you do today Boz?

Ehhh, I took MB to pick up her new eyeglasses.

Interesting.
Nah, not really, I asked the glass fitter lady if she could clean this mark off of my glasses but when she came back she said it wasn't a mark, and she said that it looked like the coating on the lenses was starting to come off, which sounds like bullshit with a small b, but I haven't had my eyes checked since David Spade was funny, and that was never except for that one time on Saturday Night Live, but no wait, that was the other guy on SNL that was never funny, but when I say that other guy on SNL who was never funny I guess they could all just about get in line and take a number.
But anyway, I haven't had my eyes checked in a long time, so I set up an appointment for Friday afternoon, and seriously, I could use some snazzy new specs, at two pair for the price of one at all participating Pearle Vision Centers.
But yeah.

Anything else?

Well ...

Well what?

I did go up to Kmart and bought four bags of Snickers that were left over from Halloween, I guess, and they were only a dollar a bag, and ...

And???

Ok, Ok, ok, they had men's shirts that they were practically giving away ...

Boz, you've got a closet full or shirts, and you promised you wouldn't buy anymore!!!

I know, but they were practically giving them away ... GIVING THEM AWAY!!!

Sigh

GIVING THEM AWAY ... GIVING THEM AWAY ... GIVING THEM AWAY ...

Dean, Sammy, Joey, call up Mia and tell her I won't be coming home tonight, and then call up Jill St. John and tell her I'll be right over.

GIVING THEM AWAY ... GIVING THEM AWAY ... GIVING THEM AWAY ...

The End

And as always the voice of my conscience was played by Frank Sinatra.

Audio Bozzio

I've rekindled my old Audio Boz blog from over two years ago. I deleted all the old crap because they were mostly broken links anyway.
There's nothing over there yet, but one day ... one day ... one day!!!

New car blues

This new car owning stuff is harder than I thought.
There is no place to hang a litter bag and MB is all about needing a litter bag for her tissues, and her cough drop wrappers, and her empty shell casings. (MB loves her drive by shootings.)

And have you noticed that I hardly ever use parenthesis?

Oh yeah, and I am having a hard time seeing the speedometer through the steering wheel, and I am pretty anal about knowing the exact speed I am going at all times, and don't suggest that I use cruise control because cruise control is just another example of the man trying to take control of our lives.

But other than that the car is cool, and I opened the sun roof up just a crack yesterday to get some fresh air, and yeah, I know, it's like 20 degrees out, but it was just a crack, and it was only for a minute, and I doubt if that has anything to do with the sore throat I have today.


And I had to pay like twenty bucks for the smoking package which included a cigarette lighter and ashtray even though I don't smoke, but I guess that is better than my last car where I had to pay like twenty bucks for the non-smoking package which didn't include a cigarette lighter and an ashtray.

But yeah, ok, I need a cough drop, and I probably should get dressed, and you know, go out and do something.

Thursday night and the movies

I rented 4 two for a dollar for five night DVDs today.
School of Rock
Rollercoaster
The Passion of the Christ
And
Close Your Eyes
Which one do you think I will like the most?
Or ...
If you've seen any of them did you like them.
Or ...
Tell me your hopes, your dreams, your fears.
Or ...
If you were a character from either the movie of the TV series M*A*S*H which one would it be?
Or ...
Have you ever fallen backwards out of your chair while on the computer?
Or ...
Do you think I should name my BRAND NEW CAR, and if you think I should what should I name it?
Or ...
How do you get rid of a haddock headache?
Or ...
Or ...
Or ...
Or ...
The Red Wings or the Predators?

The New Blue Car

It suits me.

Come on down!

Ok, so I bought a new car yesterday.
A 2006 Chevrolet Cobalt LT Sedan, and don't you just love the name Cobalt, it sounds so virile.
Anyway, it's dark blue with light grey interior, and it has a sun roof, imagine that!
I'll be picking it up from the dealer in an hour and a half.
I wish I had a funny story to go with this, but I don't, except that the salesman looked like eccentric thirty forty something actor Crispin Glover if Cripsin Glover had a buzz cut.



Eccentric thirty forty something actor Crispin Glover sans buzz cut.

Haircut in East Tawian

So I went and got a haircut today at my fourth choice barber shop, the barbershop in East Tawian, which is my fourth choice because the barber, who we will call Jim because thats his name, dyes his hair and sometimes lets his hand linger on my shoulder just a little bit too long, if you get my drift.
I had actually planned on driving up to Oscoda to one of my top three choice barbers, but the weather was crappy and when I drove by the barber shop in East Tawian I could tell that there was no one in the chair. So I came to a screeching halt, jumped out of the car, and started across the street when I saw a big old Cadillac pull in right in front of the shop. So I hitched up my pants and put it in high gear, and luckily for me it was an old guy and I beat him to the door by a step and a half.
When we got inside he said we should flip a coin on who should go first, but I cried "BULLSHIT" I was here first, but it turned out he was joking so I retracted my cry of "BULLSHIT" and took my rightful place in the chair, and damn if Jim the Barber, who actually looks a little bit like Floyd the Barber, except he wears cowboy boots and is alive, well, Jim the Barber let his hand linger just a little too long when he put the whatever the hell they call that thing that they put on over the front so you don't get hair all over ....
Arghhhhhhhhh, I hate when I can't remember things, and it's getting more and more frequent that ummmm, yeah, that too.
So anyway, I'm getting my haircut, trim the eyebrows, and the beard while you're at it Floy ... Jim.
Yeah, I'm getting my haircut, and the old guy started talking, which is cool with me because that meant I didn't have to actually talk, which is really a drag, I mean talking isn't a drag, but making idle chatter while in the barber shop is a major drag ...
Hey, about that super bowl ...
Somebody offered me a ticket ...
You couldn't get me down to Detroit if they paid me ...
I had the best seat in the house right in front of my big screen
Yadda
Fucking yadda
Yadda ...

Anyway while the old guy was talking about the super bowl and how the goddamn blacks have ruined the city, except he didn't say blacks, he casually mentioned, as casually as you can mention when you are pretty much stone cold deaf and you scream at the top of your lungs because you think everybody else is pretty much stone cold deaf too ...
He casually mentioned that he had been a cop down in Detroit back in the day, and then he pulled the biggest gun I had ever seen out of a shoulder holster, walked up to me in the chair, stuck the gun in my ear, and said:
If you ever pull a stunt like that again I'm going to splatter your brains all over the wall .. pardner.
Or did he???

The generation gap

Here is a post I made on my Emo Blog yesterday, followed by comments.
I am dhd_me and anonymous aka FP
Rebel Leady Boy is Buddy_nob
I don't know who sky_line or Frost are, but Frost is such a hater.

Post my toast
Date: Feb 4th, 2006 10:10:26 pm - Edit
Mood: metallic


My dad said if I get any more facial piercings he's going to make me sleep in the garage.
Dad, why are you such a hater?
Comments: (6)


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Comments:
sky_line_ - February 04th, 2006 - Delete
facial piercings are awesome. i once saw this guy on the bus and you could hardly see any of the skin on his face. was totally hot.

buddy_nob - February 04th, 2006 - Delete
you should pierce your face with his socket set if he makes you sleep in the garage

frost - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
If my child did that, I would rip them out of their face.

--FrosT

anonymous - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
As a concerned parent, who just happened to stumble on this blog while checking out my son's computer for pornography, I find Frost's statement ludicrous. Kids need to rebel. The way they dress, the way they talk, the music they listen to, it's just their way of stretching their wings. So what if they make a few holes in their face, they'll heal.
And how about you Frost, with your leg warmers and your MTV when they actually played music, how would you have felt if your parents had ripped out your MTV?
Frost, you just need to chill.

-FP-

frost - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
Who the hell said I watched MTV? I hardly ever watched TV. I was too busy playing with my friends. Honestly, my kids will respect what I say. I will let them know I will not tolerate it. If they disobey that, than yes I would take disciplined action. They need to learn to respect their parents. Not to disobey them and abuse them. Once kids learn that parents cannot really do anything to them, it is all down hill from there.

--FrosT

dhd_me - February 05th, 2006 - Delete - Edit
Frost,
Are you my dad's new girl friend?
Did he put you up to this?

UPDATE

frost - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
I am the creator of this site. =) www.aeonity.com/frost

--FrosT

dhd_me - February 05th, 2006 - Delete - Edit
Yeah, but that still doesn't make you the boss of me.

ADDITIONAL UPDATE

frost - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
Whoever fuckin said I was. I simply stated my point of view. Damn, where in there did I fucking tell you what to do?

As for hte creator of the site. I as responding that I was not your dad's fucking new girlfriend. Damn kids.

--FrosT

misty_rain - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
LOL

david - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
I am too a developer of Aeonity. But, who cares about that...that doesnt seem to be the issue here. Everyone needs to relax and go watch tv or something.

anonymous - February 05th, 2006 - Delete
Or masterbate!

Doctor Hunter Douglas ... Male Emoist

I added a link to my Emo Blog.

Video killed the radial tire

Me testing the 6 in 1 remote control I bought for a dollar at the Dollar Tree in Alpena Michigan.



A 5 mb clip.

It's just like deja vu but different

It's funny how some songs just trigger a memory.
I was driving down US-23 this afternoon when the song Scarborough Fair by Simon and Garfunkel came on the radio, and it was like I jumped into Mr Peabody's Way Back Machine and was transported back to February 1968 when I was a senior in high school, and I had taken my dad to work in the morning, before school, so I could have the car, a 1965 white with red leather interior and snazzy hub caps, Ford Custom 500, for the day.
Anyway, I was driving south down Gratiot Avenue between Twelve Mile Road and Eleven Mile Road in Roseville heading for the Plum Pit in East Detroit, which is now called East Pointe, when the song Scarborough Fair by Simon and Garfunkel came on CKLW, which was the highest rated local Top 40 station out of Windsor, Ontario, Canada, just across the Detroit River from Detroit, and it boasted 50,000 watts of power, and it was pretty boss, as us kids with our slang liked to say, but there was a thing called Underground FM Radio just over the horizon that would practically revolutionize radio programming, and even now I weep for you mighty CKLW and the top 40 format of my youth that you epitomized ...
Ummmm, so I was headed towards the Plum Pit, which was the local head shop that boasted a purple exterior emblazoned with a slightly psychedelic purple plum.
I never bought anything from the Plum Pit mostly because I never had any money, but it was fun just to hang around trying to look hip while I soaked up the suburban pseudo hippie life style vibe.
They sold all sorts of heavy stuff like bell bottom trousers, and lava lamps, and black lights, and psychedelic posters, and love beads, (love beads ... man now that is a flashback) and all that other groovy hippie stuff that all the groovy hippies couldn't do without back in February of 1968.
Ok, yeah, I just remembered I did buy a couple of things from the Plum Pit,
I bought a button, oh man, I loved buttons, I bought a button that read ...
America: Sex, Drugs, Murder, Madness, And The Best Ice Cream In The Whole God Damn World
It must have been a pretty big button, don't you think.
And ...
I also bought a bumper sticker that read ...
Jesus Saves, But Howe Scores On The Rebound
Ok, I really didn't buy that bumper sticker mostly because I just made it up, well I made part of it up, the Howe scoring on the rebound part, yeah, that Howe, Gordie Howe, but if they would have had that bumper sticker I would have bought it in a heartbeat, even though sports weren't cool if you were trying to lead the pseudo hippie life style and on and on and on and on ...

So, yeah, isn't it funny how certain songs trigger certain memories which inspire rambling blog posts almost forty years later.

I just did a Google.
After 40 years The Plum Pit is still in business!

MSRP

I'm thinking about buying a car in the next couple of weeks. I'd really like to wait until spring, but I've got a Certificate of Deposit maturing next week and I'd have to take some money out of that to help pay for the car. Of course I could take the money out of the CD and still wait for spring, but what fun is that, and besides maybe they've got some good buyer incentive programs going now, you know it being winter and all, and yeah, it would have to be a GM product because I get the employee discount through my brother-in-law, which means he is good for something, and it would have to be of the smaller variety car, because cars aren't cheap, and my money is limited, and do they still make the Cavalier, which is what I am driving now, and yeah, I could probably hold off, but the warranty has run out and you know what happens once the warranty runs out, yeah, the car starts falling apart, well, not really falling apart, but in need of repairs, and like so far, I've had to get the front struts replaced, and are you like me in thinking there is no such thing as a strut and the service department just made that up because they saw me coming a mile away, I've also had to get a new battery, and the built in CD player doesn't work, but I can't see getting that repaired, and then there are tires, holy shit, I hadn't even thought about tire wear until I started writing this post, and insurance will go up, it will, won't it, and what else, what else, what else, the price of gas, damn-nnnnnn, so I've got to get 30 plus miles per gallon, and at least this isn't Europe, or Asia, or one of those other places where they sell gas by the liter and you still have to have gay sex with the gas station attendant to afford a fill-up, and ... GAY SEX!!!
Anyway, yeah, I think I'll start shopping around for a new car.

Blurness

Sharpness

Don't try to lay no boogie woogie on the king of rock and roll

I feel like a spinning top that is just about to fall over.
I feel like Thelma and Louise as they approach the cliff.
I feel like the last haiku ever written.
I feel like a computer just before the please turn off your monitor *pop*.
I feel like the phone call you dread.
I feel like I've been slapped senseless by a copy of Moby Dick.
I feel like the lifeless corpse of Buddy Holly lying mangled in a corn field somewhere in Iowa.
Fuck it, I'm going grocery shopping and maybe if I find an inviting enough cliff out there, who knows.

Nick ... nick ... nick ...

Sitting here, not feeling too joyous, listening to Long John Baldry sing Don't Try to Lay No Boogie Woogie on the King of Rock and Roll.
Pronounced Boo-gee Woo-gee.
But I mean fuck, you noticed I said I wasn't feeling too joyous, and I'm not.
And like I said, I'm sitting here, pretending to cry in my pretend beer.
I mean shit, it's February already ...
Ahhh, don't mind me, I'm just wallowing.
I guess that's it.
But still ...

A day in the life

11 am - I call the pharmacy to refill a prescription for MB.
11:10 am - The pharmacy calls and says Blue Cross Blue Shield has denied the claim. I give the pharmacist some new information and she says she will run it again.
11:15 am - The pharmacy calls back and says BCBS is still denying the claim, and that prescription coverage ended on the 31st of December 2005. The pharmacist suggests that I get in touch with BCBS.
11:20 - 11:30 am - I'm on hold with BCBS.
11:30 am - I am connected with a service rep and she tells me that yes the prescription coverage ended on the 31st of December 2005. The rep gives me the Human Resource phone number for the company that the old man worked for and who is providing the BCBS coverage for MB.
11:35 am - 2:45 pm - I try repeatedly to contact the Human Resource department, repeatedly equals at least 25 times, there is no answer.
2:45 pm - I finally figure out that the number that I was given for the Human Resource department is no longer in service.
2:50 pm - I call the company that the old man used to work for, and I am connected with The United States Credit Union. I try recalling with the same result. The old man didn't work for the United States Credit Union, so yeah, I guess the company that the old man worked for has changed their telephone thingie dingie doo.
2:55 - 3:15 pm - I search through all the old man's retirement papers and finally come up with a number for the local branch of his union.
3:20 pm - I call the number and I am put through to a union rep. He listens to my plight, and says he will ask around until he finds out what the deal is. He says he'll get back to me in the morning.
3:45 pm - The union rep calls me back. He tells me that he has been in touch with his contact with BCBS and according to their records MB should be covered for the rest of her life, but it still shows up that her coverage has been cancelled, on top of that, she is the only one of the group of retirees/spouses covered under that plan who has had her coverage discontinued. The union rep then said he will continue working on it until it is straightened out and get back to me in the morning.
4:45 pm - My back hurts, my legs hurt, my arms hurt, my neck hurts, my telephone hand hurts, and my telephone ear hurts as I silently curse whoever it is who has made this day miserable for me.

Same-o, same-o

I guess I'll get ready for bed, take a couple of tylenol, and stare at the monitor until my eyeballs fall out.

It's raining and it's still January

I just realized that the first day of the week and the last day of the week both start with an S and end in a Y, and apart from that they have totally nothing in common except that most of the time they both happen on the weekend.

Friday Night Fetish

Ok, I'm in a fetish chat room using the nickname Fluffy, and I've just been IM'd by someone calling himself professor. I'm assuming it's a him, because why would a her IM someone named Fluffy?

professor> fluffy, Hi! If youre not busy, care to chat?
Fluffy> I guess so
professor> youre a fem, I guess?
Fluffy> pre-op fem

I guess the pre-op comment scared the professor off.

A few of my fetish room chat mates are
ErectInLycraSpandex
JizzEm
ManInPanties
PerfectDick
and
Grant

You know, Grant has to be the sickest of them all, he's probably trying to sell life insurance or something.

I've been in the room about ten minutes and nobody has said anything in open room.

I'm going to log off and log back in as someone else.
>> ManInDirndl has joined room #Fetish

I can't believe that in the 21st century, in a fetish chat room, that a man in a dirndl isn't flooded with IMs.

Maybe Lookng4ASlut will have me.

I speak in open room.
ManInDirndl> Has anyone seen Dr Hunter Douglas tonight?
No response.

>> submaleCD has joined room #Fetish
Wasn't he in Marvel Comics back in the 80's?

>> Melissa has joined room #Fetish
>> Melissa has left room #Fetish
>> Melissa has joined room #Fetish
>> Melissa has left room #Fetish
>> Melissa has joined room #Fetish
>> Melissa has left room #Fetish
>> Melissa has joined room #Fetish
>> Melissa has left room #Fetish
>> Melissa has joined room #Fetish

Could this be our Melissa???


>> TxK9Master has joined room #Fetish
ManInDirndl> Woof, woof, woof.

Nothing ...
Nothing .....
Nothing ..........

>> ManInDirndl has left room #Fetish

The January of my discontent

This isn't a post, it's boredom.

Winds of forty plus miles per hour whipped my mind into a frenzy of vacant thought

So, I'm sitting here, and my internet connection is down, and the wind is blowing, and I could be watching Kinsey on cable, but I'm not because they make sex seem way too wholesome, and it shouldn't be wholesome unless you're doing it in a tub of milk ...
Two per cent milk.

And I've got new sheets on my bed, and why I am telling you this?
Maybe it's because I'm stupid, wait, not stupid, I mean that word sort of like stupid, well, actually I mean that word nothing like stupid ...

And did I mention my internet connection is still down?

I mean what if I miss something?

What if someone stops by and needs me?

What if someone needs to know that Mick Taylor, not Ron Wood, replaced Brian Jones in the Rolling Stones after Jones supposedly drowned in his own swimming pool, and yeah, I said supposedly drowned in his own swimming pool, because, and don't interrupt me because I'm on a roll here, and yeah, I said supposedly drowned in his own swimming pool because I thought all rock stars that drowned always drowned in a pool of their own ... VOMIT!
Yeah, what if somebody needed to know that???

I'm sorry I can't take the pressure.
I'm going to bed ...
But if there is something you really need to know, you know, something you really really need to know, ahhhhhhhhh
My head hurts.
Good night, and please pray for a speedy return of my internet connection.

More ...

Jesus Christ on a Hot Plate.
That Felix, what a little nob.