It's too late to do any good, but here it is anyway.

Things that I want
1. I want a monkey sippy cup but only because it rightfully belongs to me.
2. I want an ink pen that I can write in the dark with so I can write in the dark and see what I'm writing in the dark.
3. I want a dictionary of all the words that I know the spelling and meanings of so I can impress people while not really knowing anything.
4. More hair on my head but only on parts where it isn't growing, and also on my legs, because there is very little, and I hate it when people bring it up.
5. An end to world peace and more hunger throughout the world.
6. Tap shoes because even though I can't ... I was born to dance.
7. I want a list of names of all the girls and women who didn't tell me that they had crushes on me when I was too dumb to realize that they did.
8. Some other stuff, but I'm getting very sleepy and tired and you know my mind is starting to wander and stuff, and maybe I should end this list at eight instead of the usual ten.
9. A new letter of the alphabet named after me or maybe they could just change the letter z to the letter boz. That would be okay with me.
10. To be the bozziest boz of all the boz's anywhere, any time, and any place, except in the Maritime provinces of Canada.

The start of another short story I will never complete. Assuaging Fears

Mildred, is that you?

Yes, it's me.

But your name isn't Mildred, it's Merle.

Yes, I know.

Then why did you answer when I called your Mildred?

Because the 911 manual says we should try to assuage any fears that a caller might have.

But I'm not afraid.

Then why did you call 911?

Good question.

Thank you, I scored a 90% on the question asking part of the 911 Operators Exam.

Is that a good score?

Yes, it was the second highest score in my class.

Who scored the highest?

Some woman named Mildred.

Maybe that's why you answered when I called you Mildred. Maybe it was some kind of Freudian response.

Or it could have been Jungian.

Yes, I meant to say Jungian.

I wonder what Freud would say about that?

I'm more concerned about what Jung would say about it.
What did the manual say?

I don't know, I was on break, I haven't had a chance to look at the manual.

You took a break in the middle of a 911 call?

Yes, I had no choice it's a union regulation.

I wish I belonged to a union like that.

So do I.

You aren't a member of the union?

No, I haven't been a 911 operator long enough to join the union.

How long have you been a 911 operator.

Counting today?

Yes, counting today.

One day.

One day?

Yes, one day. As a matter of fact, you are my first call.

That might explain why you have to check the manual so often.

Yes, that might explain it.

What else could possibly explain it?

I don't know. I'm new here. Let me check the manual. Please hold.

And as always the voice of my conscience was played by Frank Sinatra, is that how you spell conscience?

Psssst, hey Boz, you there?

Uhhh, yeah. Hold on, I just got an email.

Ok, sure.

Back.

Who was the email from?

No one, it was spam. So, what do you want?

Nothing much, I was just wondering what you've been doing lately.

Hmmmm, well, I've been reading a lot. I'm on my fourth book this month. I think this month.

Oh yeah, I read your posts about the first three. What are you reading now?

I'm reading Closing Time by Joesph Heller.

He's the guy who wrote Catch-22 isn't he?

Yeah, he did. This is a sequel written in perspective some 35 to 40 years later.

Do you even know what perspective means?

No, but it makes that sentence flow, doesn't it.

I suppose so. What else is going on?

Wait a second. Don't you want to hear about the book I'm reading?

Ummm, yeah, I guess so.

Let's see, belle sent it to me because she felt guilty about sending me a copy of Catch-22 that she had written in and highlighted.

Belle?

Yeah, you know belle, the hypochondriac who used to have a blog and sort of disappeared who only shows up every once in awhile to tell me what she had for lunch and that she is sure she is about to die from eye cancer, or knee cancer, or ear cancer, or that blood is flowing out of some orifice in her body that usually isn't associated with blood flow.

Oh, that belle. Go on.

Go on where?

Go on telling me about the book that belle sent you.

That's it, I'm done.

I thought you were going to review the book.

Why would I do that?

Are you actually reading the book?

No, not right at this minute, but I was reading it a half hour ago. Yossarian and his son are talking about Dante, and that was kind of boring, so I put it down, and watched a French movie for about five minutes, and then I came in here, hahaha, came in here ... NOT!!!

Anything else?

Anything else what???

Are you doing anything else that might be interesting.

I started another diet. JESUS FUCK!!!

What happened???

The wind just blew my bedroom door shut and it scared the Jesus Fuck out of me.

You say fuck a lot, don't you.

I write it more than I say it. I usually only say it when I'm alone.

If you say fuck while you're alone are you actually saying it?

Huh? Oh, if a tree falls in the woods yadda yadda yadda, I get it.
I'm going to go check out the basketball game on Channel 73. I'll catch you later.

Hey ...

What???

Nothing.

Later then.

(Hmmmm, I wonder where Boz keeps all his good porn.)

The start of another short story I will never complete. The Shorter of the Two Men

The shorter of the two men was wearing khaki work pants and boots.
He was not wearing a shirt and he was very tan.
He kept yelling at the taller of the two men, but I couldn't make out what he was yelling because my bedroom window was closed.
I considered getting up and opening the window, but I thought they might stop if they heard me, and how would I explain that to Merle the 911 operator.
Just then I heard someone on the other end of the phone.

Hey, it's not like that, I've got something in my eye ... honest.

I have a confession to make.
I just finished watching the movie Boys on the Side with Whoppi Goldberg, Mary Louise Parker and Drew Barrymore.
No, the confession isn't that I watched the movie.
The confession I have to make is ...
I almost ...
I kind of ...
I sort of ...
Ok, I might have teared up a little bit when Mary Louise Parker died.
I mean why does it always have to be Mary Louise Parker who dies?
Why couldn't it have been Whoppi Goldberg, I never liked Whoppi Goldberg, and to be honest with you, I almost didn't watch the movie because Whoppi Goldberg was in it, and if it had been Whoppi Goldberg who died, it wouldn't have phased me a bit, and maybe if it had been Drew Barrymore that died, well, I'm sure I would have gotten sad at least until the closing credits had finished rolling, but I would have gotten over it, but ...
WHY WHY WHY MUST IT ALWAYS BE MARY LOUISE PARKER WHO HAS TO DIE???
I think I'll go to bed now, and pretend that Mary Louise Parker didn't die, and that we met at a party somewhere, and our eyes met, and there was a certain spark, and we fell in love, and got married, or at least decided to live together, and then we lived happily ever after with neither of us ever dying again.

Mary Louise Parker, hopefully not dying.

Iri my dearie

Kat forwarded this email to me.

The email

Good day, my gentleman

Do you agree with me that love is like a good wine which you want to drink more and more? I am in search of my second half who will enjoy this love-drink with me the whole life. I found you here and would not like to lose you again.
I know that we are strangers for each other, but I want to believe that time will pass and we will become native souls for each other. If you are single at present time and your heart is free, if you believe in our future love, I will wait for your letter every day http://feelthislove.com/flirtyards

Waiting for your response

Iri

My response

Good day my email hotness,

I think that love is more like a six pack of Budwiser, the more you drink the more you want and when you wake up you swear you will never do it again. I know what you are thinking, and yes, I am a poet.

Ooooh, I want to taste of your love-drink until I cannot hold my breath for any longer than another second or two.

We are only strangers until we are not strangers anymore and our native souls meld into a nice gooey heap of love.

Yes oh yes my darling Iri, my heart is free, and so is my throbbing nine and a half inch organ.

Wait no more, my response is on it's way.

Your soon to be native soul
Milo Minderbender II

The start of another short story I will never complete. The Taller of the Two Men

I turned my attention back to the two men fighting in the street outside my bedroom window.
They both looked to be in their mid-thirties.
They were old enough that they should have know better.
They were young enough that they thought they still should.
I didn't recognize either of them.
The taller of the two men was thin and pale with sandy brown hair.
He was wearing a powder blue t-shirt and a pair of what we used to call gym shorts.
He was also wearing the gaudiest pair of yellow running shoes that I had ever seen.
He looked like he could of have been any of the myriad number of joggers that used the street outside my bedroom window as part of their approximately five mile jogging route that took them around the lake and back into town every weekend morning, afternoon, and early evening.
He was definitely a tourist.

The start of another short story I will never complete. A Fait Accompli

He knew he was in love as soon as she said she was much to pretty to be a lesbian.
To be more precise, he knew he was in love as soon as she asked him to please hold the first time.
He knew that some things were just a fait accompli, and this had been one of them.

Merle?
Merle?
Merle, are you there?

Yes, I'm here.

Merle.

Yes, can I help you?

Merle, may I have your phone number?

You already have my phone number.

I do?

Yes, you do silly. It's 9-1-1. Remember you called me.

Oh, that's right, I did call you.

I thought you did. I mean why would I call you. You were the one with a problem, not me.

Yes, I did call you. It was about the two men fighting in the street outside my bedroom window, wasn't it?

No, it's about the two men that we're assuming were fighting outside your bedroom window.

Of course, how could I have forgotten?

Is that a question or are you just musing?

It was a rhetorical question.

Should I answer it then?

No, rhetorical questions don't require answers.

I wasn't sure. Rhetorical questions aren't covered in the manual.

Are you sure?

I thought I was sure. Let me check one more time to make sure that I am sure.

Should I hold?

Yes, I'm going to check my manual, please hold.

In the summer of 69

A barely 19 year old Airman Boz pretending to shine his boots in the upper bay of barracks #2004, the 3392nd Student Squadron, Keesler AFB, Mississippi.



Here is a comment left on buzznet concerning this picture.
"Boz you were a hottie back in the day. I bet you stole all the hearts!"
Unfortunately for me the comment was made by one of my gay buzznet friends.

If I knew what my ASL was do you think I'd be here?

What am I doing up at three in the morning?
My eyes are glazed over.
My ears are ringing.
My legs, my arms, my feet, me heels, my fingers, my torsos, my shoulders, my ears, I already said my ears, my nostrils, my bald spots, and my Grey's Anatomy's all hurt.

I'm hungry, so I'm going to bed, so that I won't break the diet that I've already broken once since I started it earlier tonight.

The start of another short story I will never complete. What the Manual Says.

Hello, this is Merle, thanks for holding.

Your name is Merle?

Yes, my name is Merle.

I thought Merle was a man's name.

It is for the most part, but there are some woman named Merle, me for instance, and Merle Oberon the actress who was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world.

But wasn't she a lesbian?

No, she was much too pretty to be a lesbian.

And what about you?

What do you mean what about me?

Are you too pretty to be a lesbian.

Yes, despite my somewhat manly voice I am way too pretty to be a lesbian.

I have nothing against lesbians by the way.

Neither do I.

What did your manual say about slapping and kicking as it pertains to fighting.

It didn't say anything.

Where does that leave us?

I guess it's up to me.

Up to you for what?

To decide if slapping and kicking are fighting.

And is it?

For arguments sake let's assume that slapping and kicking are fighting.

I can certainly assume that.

Fine, let's assume that slapping and kicking are fighting. What do you want me to do?

I was hoping you could send someone out to break up what we are both assuming to be a fight between the two men in the street outside my bedroom window.

Who would I send out?

The police???

Can I do that?

You're the 911 operator, you tell me.

Let me check my manual. Please hold.

The start of another short story I will never complete. The Call to 911.

911, how may I assist you?

There are two men fighting in the street outside my bedroom window.

Are you in any immediate danger?

Not unless one of them has a key to my house.

Do either of them have a key to your house?

I don't know, let me ask them.

HEY, DO EITHER OF YOU HAVE A KEY TO MY HOUSE?

They didn't answer they are too busy slapping and kicking at each other.

Slapping and kicking? I thought you said they were fighting.

Yes, that's what I said, two men are fighting in the street outside my bedroom window. Doesn't slapping and kicking constitute a fight?

I don't know. I'll have to check my manual. Please hold.

Why can't all the pretty looking girls in the world live without me?

Email from another pretty girl.

Hello my dear friend
b
I was looking through theb web few weeks ago and found
your profile. Now bI decided to emaibl you to get to knowb
yoau better. I am coming tao your country in few waeeks
and thought may be we can meet each other. I am pretty
looking girl. I am 25. Do not reply to this addressa
directly. Email me back at uee@SpringMailSite.info

My Reply:

Hey Merle, won't you be my girl?

Hello my dear friend Merle,
Are you a boy or are you a girl ... lol, I am kidding on you. I know you are a girl because you said you are. You see. In my country Merle is mostly either a man's name or a lesbian's name, and I bet you are too pretty to be a lesbian (wink, wink). Don't get me wrong, I like lesbians, but just not in that way, because that way would be foolish because they are lesbians. I hope I am not confusing you. I am a sociologist, is that how you spell that, and I study things like lesbians, I'm not saying that lesbians are things, they are people just like the rest of us, only they like girls instead of boys. HEY!!! I think I am a lesbian too, because I like girls instead of boys. lololololo ... l.
Oh Merle, whenever I think of you it reminds me of that song Okie from Musgogee by Merle Haggard. Perhaps when you come to my area and visit me and we make a Love Connection that can be OUR SONG.
I must close now, I am meeting a group of lesbians for a business lunch. I won't tell them that your name is Merle because I don't want them to hit on you.
Yours truly,
Dr Butch Patrick PHD
PS. I love the way you type. You are such a grammatical rebel!!!

The start of another short story I will never complete.

I put down the book I was reading and looked out my bedroom window. There were two men fighting in the middle of the street. It was clear that neither of them knew how to fight. They flailed a lot, and they kicked a lot, but any contact they made was glancing, and caused little damage except to make them flail and kick even more furiously.

If they knew how to fight I probably wouldn't have called 911, but there is nothing I hate worse than ineptitude in any form, and they were certainly inept, so therefore I had no choice but to make the phone call.

A woman with a manly voice answered my 911 call. I was nonplussed for a second but decided, even before I spoke, that a manly voice, especially if you were a woman, could be a plus for a 911 operator.

Blah

If I were ever to start a band these are names I would consider naming the band that I decided to start.
1. The Mighty Boztones
2. I'm With Stupid
3. Gee and the Spots
4. Killdozer X
5. The Hungry Dawgz
6. ET Phoned Home
7. Death and Dreadlocks
8. The War Zone Peeps
9. Crude Boils
10. Idiot and the Savants

Ten times ten is more than 99

Ten things I'm thinking now, right the fuck now.
1. It's too early, I should go back to bed.
2. I don't think I like the changes in my bedroom.
3. I wonder what hand sanitizer tastes like.
4. It's so cold I'm glad I don't sleep naked.
5. Z is my favorite letter of the alphabet.
6. If my stomach could REALLY talk I wonder what it would have to say for itself.
7. I'm glad I changed my mind about going out for breakfast this morning because I'm not in the mood for combing my hair right now.
8. What should I get myself for my birthday which is coming up next month just like it does every year.
9. I hope I don't have that dream about spending the night in jail again, it seems so real that when I wake up I have a hard time convincing myself that I've never spent a night in jail.
10. Come to think of it, sleeping naked doesn't sound like such a bad idea.

Faith, is that bassically you?

2nd email from Faith

hello my dear Killer,
how are you doing today, hope fine. i am faith by name from ghana am 26yrs old and i have a brother is name is joseph and my mum maria by name, we are bassically from liberia, but we are living in ghana now, i am a student and i love meeting new friends all over the world, i will be very greatful if you can send me your new pic and tell me more about you, even give me your phone number so i can call you. i hope to hear from you soon,
with love,
Faith


My Reply

hello my dear Faith who is mostly from Liberia,
Here is my picture that you requested. Many people think I look like teen idol Corey Feldman, I am also enclosing a picture of teen idol Corey Feldman so tell me what you think.
I am mostly from the United States and I should be getting out pris ... out of "skool" in 8-10 years.
My phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx*, but there is only one phone for the whole cell block, I mean the whole dormitory, so many times other people will answer the phone and teasingly try to get you to bring drugs, I mean care packages, into our "skool"
I have to leave the computer now. A fellow inmate, I mean class mate, named Big Guido wants to use my ass, I mean the computer.
Thank you for writing to a lonely inmate, I mean college student.
Lovingly calling you my new friend
Killer (It's just a nickname, honest)
*This email was monitored and edited by the State Bureau of Prisons.

Killer



Teen Idol Corey Feldman

I'm looking at 3-5 with time off for good behavior

This came to my buzznet account earlier today.

Hello dear new friend,
how are you today i hope that every things is ok with you as is my pleassure to contact you after viewing your profile which really interest me in having communication with you if you will have the desire with me so that we can get to know each other better and see what happened in future.
i will be very happy if you can write me through my email for easiest communication and to know all about each other,here is my email (faith2prettygirl@yahoo.com ) i will be waiting to hear from you as i wish you all the best this new year
yours new friend
Faith,

My Reply

Hello back at ya my dear new friend!
I was just sitting hear in my cell, I mean my dorm room, wishing that I had a dear new friend, and then (((poof))) here you are a dear new friend.
I am glad that you recieved much pleassures from viewing my profile, but be careful I have heard many times that if you derive too much pleassures that you can go blind, but I guess if you only do it until you need glasses I guess that wouldn't be too much pleassures to be deriving, and anyway, me and my cell mates, I mean me and my room mates, really like girls with glasses. I mean we REALLY LIKE GIRLS WITH GLASSES.
I have many desires to meet new dear friends, and it would be much pleassures to me during my unfortunate incarceration, I mean while I am away at school, to get to know you better.

Are we having a best new year already? I guess time really does fly when you are in pris ... when you are away at school.

Please, please, please let us get on the track to becomming dear OLD friends. I am pining to get to know you better.

Yours newER friend

Killer (It's just a nickname, honest)

To be so totally whacked on a Monday night that you don't care, you just don't care.

I am going to bed wearing the grey t-shirt that I have worn all day long that I stole from the phys ed department of the school where I used to teach.
That's how tired I am.
That's how little I care.
That's ...
Excuse me for a minute.
I just had one of those seemingly drug induced episodes where both time and space inexplicably merge and you see your destiny, and my destiny says I should go to bed wearing the grey t-shirt that I have worn all day yadda, yadda, yadda, ho, ho, ho.

Ma, my head hurts

I saw a teenage girl at the BK in W. Branch today who looked just like Rocky Dennis.



Or maybe I just saw Eric Stolz.

I love the sound of thunder in the morning, it sounds like my stomach growling

It's raining, and there's thunder off in the distance, and I just made coffee, and I had a couple of cookies, and the bottom sheet has come off the corners of the bed, and a truck just drove by, and my stomach just made a noise which was louder than the thunder off in the distance, and now the thunder off in the distance just made the house vibrate even though the thunder is still off in the distance, and I just read an email for a sale at an electronics store where you can get a 6 gig pocket hard drive for $19.99, and I was tempted to buy it, but I don't need it, and I would never use it, but I'm still tempted to buy it just like the 1 gig SD card I bought for ten dollars yesterday at the Evil Empire, I think I have four 1 gig cards now, but it was ten dollars man ... ten dollars, and finally, fuck it, there's no and finally today, I'm going back to bed, and I'm not even going to fix the bottom sheet that has come off the corners of the bed, because that's just the way I roll.

What is it with socks?

I guess I'll read now, or maybe I'll just go to bed and dream about Beryl, sighhhhhhh, my sweet lovely, innocent, nice pretty, Beryl. Sighhhhhhhhhh, Beryl.
MB forgot her purse over in West Branch today, so I'll have to go and get it on Monday, but I can't give her a hard time about it because I just realised that the Mother's Day card I got her says Happy Mother's Day to a Wonderful Daughter, and I'm not going to mention it to her because she loves to rub my face in any errors that I make, and don't worry about her purse, there wasn't any money in it, and her ID card has expired, and I imagine the three sticks of gum she had in it will keep, and besides they put it in the safe for her, and I wasn't going to tell you that she left at it the Burger King because you always make me feel less than human when I tell you that I was at the BK, and who knew that the BK had a safe, and you know, I bet MB was a wonderful daughter because to hear her tell it she was a saint, and I guess that's it except for the fact that I won an apple pie and a small milk shake with the Spiderman scratch off game at the BK today ... ole!
West Branch is an 80 mile round trip, that chewing gum had better be safe in the safe at the Burger King that I wasn't going to tell you about stopping at.

Dandelions

I took MB for a pre-Mother's Day drive over to West Branch today.
This must be the year for dandelions. They were everywhere.
Seriously, they were everywhere.
Seriously.



Seriously.
I've got more pictures if you want to see them. I took 31 pictures in all. About 25 on one side of the road, and about 6 through the car window of the other side of the road, the side of the road that I think the chickens crossed over to, or I might be thinking of something else.
I mean dandelions were everywhere, but I said that already, didn't I.
Ok, just enjoy the picture, I'm going to go do something that involves eating and ham.
Click on pic to go to buzznet for full size view.
Wait ... I hear ham!!!

Dr Hunter Douglas ... gets a new girl friend, maybe

Received this email this morning.

Do not ignorea me please,
I found your email somewhereb band now decided to write you.
Ib am coming to your place in few weeks and thought we
can meet each other. Let me know if you do not mind.
I am a nice pretty girl. Don't reply to this email.
Email me direclty at ayuek@SpringMailSite.info

My reply.

Dear Beryl,
My, that is a pretty name, is it by any chance Nigerian?
You write such a beautiful email how could I possibly ignorea you?
Of course Ib would like to meet you when you come to my place in a few weeks and I do not mind meeting you when you come to my place, but be sure to wear some long underpants because my place is very cold now ... lolololol I make a little joke, the whether here is fine, it just tickles me to say underpants.
Thank you for telling me that you are a nice pretty girl because I HATE GIRLS THAT ARE NOT NICE PRETTY GIRLS, I MEAN I REALLY HATE THEM SOOO VERY MUCH.
My friends call me Lothar but you may call me Dr Hunter Douglas because that is my name.
Hoping so very much to hear from you soon.
Achingly waiting for your reply to my email, not because I am lonely but because I like meeting nice pretty girls, I REALLY LIKE MEETING NICE PRETTY GIRLS.
Dr Hunter Douglas
PS - Many people have told me that I am an nice pretty boy so we should make a stunning couple when you visit my place in a few weeks.

It rained today, and it was cool, and it was humid, and the air was fragrant like flowers.

I feel smart tonight.
No, I really do.
Smart and hip, and not tragically hip like I usually feel, hip like I know what's going on, and ...
I'm going to stop now before I stop feeling smart and my hipness reverts to the tragic variety.
Who loves ya?
Bozzie loves ya.
G'night

I hear noises and there is no one there except for that zombie way off in the distance but I might be imagining that too.

I used to believe that if you sneezed ten times in a row in quick succession you would die, that's what I believed when I was a teenager and the most I ever sneezed in a row in quick succession was seven, maybe eight times ever, but sometime in my late twenties I did it, I sneezed ten times in a row in quick succession and I didn't die, and I thought that might have been the exception that proved the rule, or maybe it was something like not getting pregnant the first time you fuck, and I was going to change the first time you fuck to the first time you have sex, but I said fuck so there you go, but this isn't about fucking it's about sneezing, and a girl once told me that a really good sneeze was like a really good orgasm, but this is the same girl that told me that the song Norwegian Wood was a song about John Lennon fucking Natalie Wood, and I never believed that, I mean you might as well have said that Norwegian Wood was a song about John Lennon fucking Doris Day in the woods while Helmut Newton took pictures, and so it goes, and now back to sneezing ten times in a row in quick succession and dying ...
As it turns out you can sneeze a whole lot of times and not die, and conversely you can sneeze like no amount of times and die, so what does it all mean, nothing I guess, but in case you're interested the most I have sneezed in a row in quick succession is fourteen times, and it didn't kill me, but it probably will eventually.

Bite me, and bite me again, and again, and again

Ten things that haven't anything to do with any of the other ten things.

1. If I were a writer I wouldn't want to be like any other writer and I'd want no other writer to be like me, as if they'd want to be, anyway, huh.
2. I had a large diet coke, you know, one of those 44 ounce type deals, in the car today, in the drink holder, and when I pulled out of the parking lot, it was no longer in the drink holder, it was now, or it was then on the floor in front of the passenger seat, and I panicked for a moment and almost drove into oncoming traffic, but I ... fuck, it's two in the morning and MB just told me she was out of Depends ... out of Depends, I just bought her two packages two days ago ... there's twenty in each package, it's ridiculous, she must wear five at a time, I am flabbergasted, and I can't think straight.
3. Now my head feels like it is about to explode, with confetti and everything.
4. I am defeated.
5. I give up.
6. Would someone please smother me in my sleep.
7. My god, even Sam Cooke songs can't calm me down, Sam Cooke can calm anyone down, but he can't calm me down. Seriously, I think I'm about to hyper-ventilate.
8. You think I'm overstating it don't you.
9. I guess I could go to the Evil Empire, they're always open. I wonder if I could go in there dressed like I'm dressed now. I guess the tu-tu would look alright but I'm not so sure about the tube sock arm warmers and KISS make-up, ok, it's not KISS make-up, but you know ... Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
10. And finally ... Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Fuck it, nevermind, I'll just go sit in the corner, act like I'm not here. There's some Diet Coke in the fridge if you get thirsty, and I think there's some leftover meatloaf in there too.
G'night.

Pictures

MB doing her "What you talkin' 'bout Willis" impression ...



Awwwwww ...



Yours truly ...

The heart of a poet, the shoes of a fisherman, and the mind of a man possessed, or something equally literal

My throat is raw tonight.
I took some Nyquil about ten minutes ago, the store brand kind, the cherry flavored kind, the kind that I bet would taste good on ice cream kind, but my throat is still raw.
I got caught in the rain today, driving back from Oscoda, with a pizza from Hungry Howies in the back seat, it was a square pizza, it didn't taste all that good, it was really raining heavy at times, one person pulled over, the one person wasn't me, but there have been times when I have pulled over because of the rain, or the tap dancing deer(s).
I should take some more Nyquil, or a shot of cheap booze, and pretend I'm Bukowski, no wait, not Bukowski, and pretend I'm Kerouac, no, not Kerouac, and pretend I'm one of those beat poets that I can never remember the name of, the ones that lived in squalor, no, the ones that thrived in squalor, the ones who chain smoked, and drank cheap red wine, and did a little reefer, and popped a few pills, and tried a little horse, and slept on the floor of their best friends apartment when they got kicked out of their own for playing Charlie Parker too late and too loud, or for clogging up the plumbing when they got all paranoid and flushed the manuscript they'd been working on for three years, (three fucking years man) down the toilet, or for having sex, with a girl, or a guy, or a group, or for being free man, that man hates when you're free.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by bad haircuts and paisley neckties
I think I'd like some soup now please, maybe a little cream of mushroom, thanks.

The not so grand ennui

I need a theme song.
A song that would play automatically whenever you click on The Grand Ennui, but not the song The Grand Ennui, because that's a little too country, and I'm a little too rock and roll.
ROCK AND ROLL ... MOTHER FUCKERS!!!
Something that reeks of me, reeks of boz.
My essence.
My Yin.
My Yang.
My Id.
My Nazz (Nazz???)
Something that if you heard it on the radio on your drive home from work you'd say to yourself ...
Hey, that's The Boz Song!!!
Something to do with HAM.
Any suggestions?
Goodnight.

Five in the hole roll your own

A personalized meme from Kat.

1. Which 'A List' blogger do you think is totally overrated and what the hell does he/she know, anyway?
Ok, you didn't define A List so I'll have to give my own definition of A List and my definition of A List is there is no such thing as A List blogs/bloggers, did you notice how I slipped that / in there, I learned that from you when you did he/she. Another thing, my sinus are bothering me big time, and I've taken a lot of medication, and I might get drowsy while doing this, no, drowsy isn't the word I'm thinking of, it's something like drowsy, but not exactly like drowsy, I think doped up might be a more accurate description of what I am now, and you know Kat, you should really do some more audioblogs, you were very good at that.

2. Let's pretend you get to hitch a mental ride with someone for a day, like in Being John Malkovich. Who would you 'be into' and why?
Now this is odd. Kat is from Texas, and a song by Doug Sahm just came on, and Doug Sahm is from Texas. Kat, do you know Doug Sahm, he's almost a legend down there with his Tex/Mex sound, and there, I used your / again. I think we should call that a Kat(/) from now on, pretty cool to have a punctuation mark named after you, isn't it. So, I guess it's obvious that I would have to pick Doug Sahm, because it's karma, or something, isn't it.

3. So many conflicts, so little time... You've been given the power to heal one of the world's ills, but only one. Which do you choose?
Penis envy, and that's pretty much self-explanatory.

4. There are certain celebrities the media is so fixated on there's no escaping the hype, try as you might. Which celebrities do you wish the earth would just swallow up?
Doug Sahm would top my list, that self important bastard, Tex/Mex my ass, and I guess you could add Julius and Ethel Rosenberg if they weren't already dead, and the guy who played Wyatt Earp on TV back in the 50's, and Sheri Lewis and her goddamned puppets, I mean they cancelled The Howdy Dowdy Show and replaced it with Shari Freakin Lewis and those goddamned gay ass puppets, HOWDY DOWDY, NOW THERE WAS A FUCKIN' BAD ASS PUPPET!!! I guess that's it unless you consider Dick Clark, and Dick Cavett, and anyone else with a Dick ... hahaha, unless you consider anyone else with a Dick in their name a celebrity.

5. If you could turn back time, if you could find a way, you could stop yourself, or someone else from making a monumentally stupid decision. What do you do, and sorry about the Cher earworm.
Me doing this meme, I worried about it all weekend, yeah, thanks alot Kat, where are the soft ball questions, the what's your favorite color, the what kind of tree would you be, yeah, thanks a lot Kat, and let me add something else, I think the worry that you caused me is either directly or indirectly the cause of my sinus attack, and one more thing, why the fuck do they call it a meme, it's a quiz, a survey, a questionnaire, the fucking internet has perverted everything I hold sacred!

According to internet law, see I told you it perverted everything, I have to add this little codicil, if it really is a codicil.
DIRECTIONS FOR THE INTERVIEW MEME
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions (or share here in the Comments section).
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.(OPTIONAL)
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.(OPTIONAL)

My 3 Encounters With Coffee

1. When I was about 5 or 6 years old after bugging and nagging, and bugging and nagging some more, my mother, the person you know as MB, finally relented and let me have my first cup of coffee, you know how kids are, they want to be grown-up, and I guess I figured the best way to be grown-up was to drink coffee, and yeah smoke unfiltered Camels like my old man, but I'd start nagging for that after the coffee. Anyway, the coffee was about 5% coffee and about 95% milk, oh that MB was a shrewd woman, and the coffee sucked, it sucked almost as much as this post is starting to suck, and really, I thought a post about why I don't drink coffee was a great idea, you know, it would give an insight into what made me the way I am, because, I'd be way different than I am now if I drank coffee ...
So, yeah, I took about two sips of the coffee and swore I'd never drink it again, and I didn't until ...
2. When I was 18 years old and out of high school Wesley from across the street gave me a call one night telling me that he needed a ride home from work. Wesley from across the street worked in a meat market in the Northland Shopping Center, which at the time was the biggest shopping center in the Detroit area, and about a half hour drive from where Wesley from across the street and I lived. So yeah, I told WFATS that I'd pick him up, but I expected a dollar for gas money, which at that time would buy a little over 5 gallons of gas, and WFATS agreed, and told me I should go to this little coffee shop in the shopping center and wait for him, and so I did. Oh, the shopping center was located on 8 Mile Road, the same 8 Mile that was the title of that movie that I didn't see, but yeah, it was. So anyway, I got to the coffee shop, and it was winter time, and it was dark, and it was cold, and there was a really pretty waitress working behind the counter, and I guess she was about my age, maybe a little older, and I guess I wanted to impress her, you know, show her how cosmopolitan I was, so I ordered a cup of coffee, and I ordered it BLACK. So, I sat there, sipping my BLACK coffee and looking at my watch, and wondering what was taking WFATS so long, and trying to get up enough nerve to talk to the waitress, who I had convinced myself was going to move out to California any day and become the next Joey Heatherton, and I sipped the coffee, and it was hot, and I didn't really like the taste, and it was hot, but I was sure that the waitress was impressed, and I was really going to talk with her the next time she came around, and I'd say something really urbane, and witty, and we'd hit it off, and she would put off her plans for going to Hollywood, and we'd date, and I don't know, after about the third or fourth date we'd have sex, and then we'd drop acid, and join a commune, and protest the war, and have sex again, and maybe try to get on The Price is Right, I don't know ...
But anyway, I finished my cup of coffee, and did I tell you that I would have much rather had a Coke, but yeah, I finished my coffee, and the waitress came around and asked me I wanted a re-fill, and I sort of stammered around and stared at her breasts, and said ... well, I really didn't say anything, I just sort of shook my head no, so she gave me my bill, and I was positive she was going to write her name and phone number on the bill, but she must have forgot, and I looked at the bill, and the coffee was twenty cents, so I took out twenty cents from my pocket, and then just to show the waitress what she was missing by not falling madly in love with me, I took a dollar out of my wallet and put it down next to the twenty cents and got up and walked out, and back then a dollar was a lot of money, you could buy a Volkswagen for a dollar, no shit, you really could, and ...
That's it. WFATS never showed up, so I left, and drove around, and then I probably went back home, and up to my bedroom, and I probably put on my Steppenwolf album and sang along to Goddamn the Pusher Man until I fell asleep or came.
3. Ok, I knew I said this was going to be my 3 encounters with coffee post, but fuck it, the second encounter was the best, so why bother with the third, ok, let's just say my third encounter with coffee was when I was in the air force and stationed on the island of Crete, and I was in the cafeteria for lunch before working an afternoon shift, and you know everyone drank coffee, and it was the whole peer pressure thing, so after I went through the line I stopped off and said what the hell I'm going to get a cup of coffee and prove to everyone that DAMMIT I'M A MAN TOO, so I'm standing in front of the coffee machine, you know sort of swaggering, sort of looking around, sort of nodding my head, sort of giving off the I'm cool, I'm cool vibe, and I took a coffee cup off the rack, and I'm nodding my head, and giving off this coolness vibe, and I'm looking around, you know, all cool and nonchalant, and then I pressed down on the little valve thing, you know the thing that lets the coffee out, and I'm cool, and looking around, and I'm swaggering, and believe me it's hard to swagger when you're standing still, but I was, I really was swaggering, and then the coffee shoots out, I mean really shoots out, and it hits the bottom of the coffee cup, but it shot out so fast that when it hit the bottom of the cup it splashed out all over my hand, and you're familiar with the word scalding aren't you, well yeah, the coffee was scalding, and my hand was turning pink, and tears were welling up in my eyes, and I sort of lost my swagger, and I put the coffee cup down, and sort of stuck my hand in the ice machine, and then I got a glass of milk, and never thought about drinking coffee again.

And no, I'm not going to proof read this for mistakes, I'll just run spell check and that's it.

Will I remember this in the morning?

I hear noises outside my bedroom window.
Outside human noises.
Outside people talking noises.
Outside car door noises.
The car just pulled away.
No more outside noises.
The outside noises must have come from across the street.
Noise travels late at night when it's quiet, and late, and dark, and quiet, and late and dark, and quiet, and late, and dark.
No more noises outside my bedroom window.
No more outside human noises.
No more outside car door noises.
The only noises are inside noises.
My computer is making noises.
My stomach is making noises.
My house is making creaky freaky deaky noises.
My imagination is making look out there's something with a big knife standing right behind you noises.
I think I should go to bed with a big gun tonight just in case, and maybe a flash light too, and some brass knuckles, and a bigger knife than the something standing behind me has, and some HAM, and some plastic explosives, and a copy of The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, and one of those personal alarm things, that goes whooooooooooooooooop, whooooooooooooooooooooooooop, whoooooooooooooooooooooop when you're in danger, and a duck, and ...
My stomach is still making noises, you know those gurgly type noises that sometimes sounds like your stomach is actually speaking, and I wonder what my stomach would say to me if it could actually speak.

Does Janeane Garofolo have a Y chromosome lurking somewhere in her past?

Ten made up Google search queries that brought people to The Grand Ennui but really didn't, but could have if people who did Google searches were more imaginative.

1. Sequined jump suit covered in ham, and her mother's name, and is the mother still hot?
2. Janeane Garofolo had her sex change operation reversed when?
3. Did Alice Cooper and Iggy Stooge really have a baby together, out of wedlock, in the 70's, and does this baby now have a talk show on E?
4. Which one of the Two Corey's died during Operation Desert Storm, or am I thinking of the guy who played Chunk?
5. Can dead people still fart?
6. When did Brian Bonsall officially become the devil?
7. Is it true that Tootie's roller skates are in the Smithsonian Institute, or is Brian Bonsall just pulling my leg?
8. Boz, the 5th Beatle???
9. Who, or what, came first Meatloaf the person or meatloaf the food you put a lot of catsup on?
10. Can I get pregnant the first time? PS, I'm a boy.

A reasonable facsimile of

A Mr. Fart Free Leche of Fort Lee New Jersey writes:
What's Zoloft - can you get me some adderall and you should take a pic of the goth chic and send it to me. Thank you.

Dear Mr. Leche,
Zoloft is a drug for depression or anxiety that can lead teenage boys to kill, but for us more mature types it works pretty good unless you are fond of sleeping. Up until a year ago it cost about 100 bucks for a one month supply, but then the generic came out, and it went down to about 62 bucks a month, I should point out that for the first year of it's genericity it was restricted to one generic distributor, but now any drug company can produce it, which has driven the price way down to about 14 bucks a month, and I imagine that pretty soon the Evil Empire will make it a part of their 4 Buck A Month Generic Drug Program, which at least to me makes the Empire somewhat less Evil than before, but that's only me, you can still hate away if you like.

Ok, if you put some clothes on her, get rid of the cigar, add a pair of glasses with black frames, and maybe lose a little of the make-up, and put a little meat on her bones, this would be a reasonable facsimile of the gith girl, or goth girl, from the other day at the store.



And ...
No, I can't get you any adderall, but I've got a used, but clean, pair of underalls from the 80's that you can have for the price of postage.

What's up with the VMofD???

He takes a tumble off the top shelf ...



But he assures me that he is alright, maybe just a little dizzy but alright, and maybe his left heel feels like he has a heel spur but he's fine, seriously, he's fine, ok, his sinus might be acting up a little bit from the way his head hit but honest he's fine, and of course his spine is going to be hurting because he's had two spinal fusions but that's to be expected, so there is nothing seriously wrong, I mean , he was able to fix a meat loaf for dinner AFTER he fell, he couldn't do that if there was anything wrong could he, so yeah, he's fine, and don't be concerned about the numbness up and down his left side, he had that even before he fell, so that doesn't count, of course it did aggravate it a bit, but still the monkey is not going to use that as an excuse, or a crutch, but you know, he does have a crutch, no wait, he has a cane, and I think he's been using it, but that's just a precautionary measure, there's nothing wrong, trust me ...



CALL 911, CALL 911, CALL 911 ...
THE VMofD HAS GONE INTO CARDIAC ARREST!!!

The above was a dramatisation, no VMsofD were harmed during the writing of this post.

You are the only reason that I write, of course I lie a lot

So, I fell asleep at 2 am and woke up at 4 am and got up and took a leak.
I couldn't fall back to sleep so I turned on the television, but the cable box wasn't working, of course I thought I had broken it, but I hadn't, it was just down, but it wasn't down for long because it came back on after I fucked with the controls for about ten minutes, and me fucking with the controls had nothing to do with it, like I said, it was just down, and then it came back on, are you following this so far?

Anyway, the cable came back on and I started surfing the premium channels looking for a movie, figuring that if I found a movie that was kind of interesting I could watch it till I fell asleep. So I surfed and surfed and surfed and surfed, I did a lot of surfing because I have that digital cable thing with about 30 or 40 premium channels, and I told you about how it was six dollars cheaper to get the digital cable package with internet access than it was basic cable with internet access, I just reiterated that because I didn't want you to think I was being all elitist by having digital cable, I mean, it was cheaper, what could I do???

Ok, this is where it gets weird.
I couldn't find anything that I cared to watch, and you'd think that with 30 to 40 premium channels that the law of averages would ... yeah you'd think that wouldn't you, but nope, there wasn't, so I said to myself, not out loud, I didn't say something to myself out loud, I thought to myself, yeah, that's what I meant to say, thinking to oneself isn't abnormal, I didn't say to myself, I thought to myself ...
So, I thought to myself, and that has a nice ring to it, doesn't it ...
So, I thought to myself I'll turn off the tv and read, and if you've been following my blog faithfully like I know you do, and btw ... just who the fuck are you ???
Yeah, if you've been following my blog faithfully you'll know I've been reading Lord Jim by Joesph Conrad, and yeah, I thought to myself, thought not said, that I'll turn off the tv and read some more of Lord Jim, and all the time I was thinking this, I had my finger on the search button on the remote, and if by freakin' magic when I took my finger off the remote it stopped on channel 600, yeah, channel 600, and it was 5 am, and a new movie was just starting, just starting at 5 am on channel 600, and I was poised to turn the tv off and read some more of Lord Jim, and the new movie was starting, and the credits started rolling, and the new movie was just starting, and I was going to turn off the tv and read some more of Lord Jim, and the new movie was just starting, and the new movie, the new movie that was just starting was ...
LORD JIM!!!
Yeah, it was Lord Jim ...
Lord Fuckin' Jim, how was that for a coincidence, I mean seriously.
But yeah, the movie is almost three hours long, and I knew there was no way I could stay up and watch a movie for three hours, but you know hbo/cinemax/showtime/tmc/starz, if a movie is on once it is on a thousand times, so not to worry I'll catch Lord Jim the next time it is on, and isn't this quite the story for six thirty in the morning!

My flesh wants to burst out of my shirt and do the Macarena with you

So, I was just sitting here, playing with my mouse, scrolling up and down the page, talking to myself, trying to figure out what to do next, wondering about whether I should start believing in something, clearing my throat, running my hand through my beard, thinking about how cool I am, considering reading some more, considering getting something to eat, something to drink, something to inhale, something to quash, or quell the queasiness, looking at the clock, looking at my cock, cocking my head to one side, and then the other, looking through smudged glasses, my fingers poised, ready to pounce when a thought, any thought appears ... HARK ... a thought.
It's raining. It has been for a few minutes. It's not raining heavy, but I can hear it falling, beating, whatevering on the roof.
I can hear the tv from the other room. I think it's a musical on Turner Classic Movies, but the music just stopped, so maybe it's a swashbuckling pirate movie with Basil Rathbone and Yvonne DeCarlo, and The Kids From Fame.
I just ran out of gas.
I can still hear the rain if that counts for anything.

Seperated at birth

Frylock


Boz


A tip of the hat to Mannaz for bringing it to my attention.

While out sailing on the ocean, while out sailing on the sea, I bumped into the saviour, and he said pardon me ... thank you John Prine

In my quest for Vonnegut I went to the St. Vincent De Paul Thrift Store.
They had tons of books.
They didn't have any Vonnegut.
So I got some other books at ten cents a pop.
I got a John Irving.
I got a couple of Joesph Heller's.
I got an F. Scott Fitzgerald.
I got something else that I don't remember.
I got Lord Jim by Joesph Conrad.
I'm reading Lord Jim now.
I'm just starting to get into it.
Someone told me that I reminded them of Lord Jim.
Or maybe it was Billy Budd.
Or it could have been Popeye.
Let's start over, and leave out the part about Popeye.
And yeah, maybe it was Lord Jim, because I see myself sharing some of the same demons that Lord Jim shared.
Or maybe I just have a messiah complex.

Gnarly dude, gnarly

What do you know about puka shells, a quiz.

1. When were puka shell necklaces popular?
2. Why were puka shell necklaces popular?
3. What are puka shells?
4. Will a puka shell ever be elected president?
5. If the Flash, Superman, and a puka shell had a foot race who would win?
6. Do you think Kurt Vonnegut would have been taken more seriously as a writer if he wrote more about puka shells?
7. Do you believe the eye witness accounts about a man with a puka shell necklace seen leaving the grassy knoll just seconds after shots were fired?
8. Is that a puka shell in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?
9. If your son came to you and told you that he wanted a puka shell necklace how would you re-act?
10. Do these puka shells make my ass look fat?

You cant have a KVC if you don't start with a KV

So, do I look like Vonnegut in this picture or what!



Anyway, my eyes are burning, and I don't know what from, but I think it might be from the new brand of soap that I bought the other day, you know, it is heavily perfumed, and Bozzie's eyes don't do heavily perfumed, and no, I wouldn't have bought it if I knew it was heavily perfumed, but I didn't know, and so I bought it, but I've thrown it away already, so maybe it wasn't the soap, because my eyes are still burning.

I read my first Vonnegut novel in 1970 when I was in the air force and stationed on the island of Crete. I was cruising the base library, just looking for something to read. I was a very undisciplined reader back then. I would read almost anything that caught my eye, like if the book cover was flashy, or the title was interesting, or if the author's name stood out, and Slaughterhouse Five or the Children's Crusade hit on all three whatever's, and I'm not really sure if the title was or the Children's Crusade or and the Children's Crusade, but you know, it really doesn't matter, does it. So yeah, that was the first Vonnegut novel I had ever read. It was a fairly new book, I think it was published in 1969, and ummmmmm, the name Vonnegut sounded vaguely familiar, so maybe I had read a short story or two by him in one of those sleazy men's magazines that always seemed to be laying around the barracks way back then, but yeah, and I read it, and I probably read it all in one night, and I probably stayed up all night reading it, and by the time I was finished reading it I bet my eyes were burning as much as they are burning now. So between then and the time I started college in 1973 I guess I had read most of Vonnegut's stuff, and yeah, I think Slaughterhouse Five, and Cat's Cradle, and The Sirens of Titan were my favorites, but you know I liked most of them, but I sort of started not liking his stuff a book or two after Slaughterhouse Five, and I don't know if it was because his stuff didn't seem as good, or maybe, and this is probably the more likely scenario, maybe I started not liking him because he was becoming very popular, and I resented that, I mean, I didn't resent him his fame and fortune, I resented the fact that he was no longer a cult figure, and that reminds me of a discussion I had with the professor of my American Literature 1945 to the Present class, and the present then would have been 1975, and there's a lot more present now than there was back then, but such is life, and yeah, the discussion between my prof and me, ummm, we were in his office talking about, well, post WWII writers, and of course Vonnegut's name came up, and back then Vonnegut was not part of any curriculum, no way, no how, nu-uh, never, and my prof asked me what I thought about Vonnegut not being part of the curriculum, and I pondered this for a minute, nah, I didn't ponder, I don't think I have ever pondered anything in my life, but I did think for a minute, and then I told my prof that I was kind of glad that Vonnegut wasn't taught, I told him that I wanted to keep Vonnegut to myself, to keep Vonnegut as my own secret little guilty pleasure, I mean I didn't want just anyone to read Vonnegut, I wanted only cool people like myself to live the Vonnegut experience, and my prof pretty much agreed with me, except for the part about me being cool, and you know, I'm not sure which novel this is from, I think it might be the one after Slaughterhouse Five, but I'm not sure, and I'm sorry that I don't remember the titles of all KV's novels, and yeah, I'm going to start referring to him as KV now instead of Vonnegut, because it's really late, and I'm really tired, and I actually feel that I can write forever and not feel like stopping, but yeah, the part, the part, the part, the part of one of KV's novels that has stuck with me for over thirty years is the one part where the hero, or the protagonist, or the guy, yeah, let's just call him the guy, the guy goes into an adult bookstore and he starts looking at some of the girlie magazines out front, the old time girlie magazines, the ones where the models never got more naked than their bras and panties, and the book store manager came up to the guy and told him not to waste his time on the bra and panties magazines out front, they were just out front for show, then the manager told the guy that the good stuff was in the back room, and the guy, the guy who had been wistfully browsing through the bra and panties magazines, and I think wistfully is the perfect description for what the guy was doing, yeah, wistfully browsing through the bra and panties magazines, and the guy said nah, these are good enough for me, and yeah, I knew exactly what the guy meant, being all wistful and all, yeah.

Holy crap!

I just got back from the Family Dollar, (and boy did I pick up some bargains) and the goth-like cashier, the cute one, the one who wears glasses, told me we were supposed to get SEVEN INCHES of snow this afternoon and tonight ...
And she was right because ...
IT'S ALREADY STARTED!!!! (That deserved an extra !)
Seven inches of snow ... It's April 11th ... Seven inches of snow ... It's spring time ... Seven inches of snow ... It does not compute ... Seven inches of snow ... Blah blah blah blah blah.
Remember, this was the cute goth-like cashier, not that the other cashier isn't cute, but she isn't as goth-like, and I suppose she isn't as cute either, but she has a nice smile and is very friendly, and I bet she's a good dancer too.

Oh, and in other news ...
The price for a month's worth of generic zoloft went down from $62.00 to $14.50.

Why I haven't posted

1. I can't stop sneezing.
2. Ever since MB told me that the black guy on Walker Texas Ranger was the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby I can't concentrate.
3. The bird that mocks me tells me I'm cool, and this puzzles me, because she continues to mock me.
4. MB also told me that Mr Olson from Little House on the Prairie is having an affair with our next door neighbor ... how can this be I tell myself.
5. Ok, MB also told me that when she was a little girl after they first moved to Detroit from Tennessee, and my grandfather worked the afternoon shift at Chevrolet, and they shared a house with my grandfather's half sister and her family, that was located next to a blind pig, and for you who don't know what a blind pig is it's an after hours drinking establishment usually located in a private residence and is very illegal but they usually paid protection money to the cops or the mob so they were safe, and yeah they lived next to a blind pig, and my grandfather worked the swing shift, and anyway, one night my mother, who was about five or six years old, wandered into my grandparent's bedroom, and remember my grandfather worked the swing shift, and anyway my mother wandered into their bedroom on the way to the bathroom, and she saw a man ... A MAN ... standing over the bed that my grandmother was sound asleep in, and my mother wasn't sure who the man was, but she thought it was my grandfather, who remember was at work, and my mother said "what are you doing home" and the man, who wasn't my grandfather, lit a match, and all my mother could see of the man, the man who obviously wandered over from the blind pig, was his big hairy arm, and I guess my mother frightened the man with the hairy arm, because he turned around brushed by my mother and left the house.
When my mother told my grandmother what she saw the next morning my grandmother downplayed it telling my mother that she must of dreamed it, but my grandmother always downplayed stuff that my mother told her, so my mother wasn't buying it, and later that day before my grandfather went to work, my mother could hear my grandparents talking in the kitchen, and my mother heard my grandmother say that whoever did it must have been the one who cut the hole in the screen door ...
Dun dun dun.
So there you have it, the honest to god truth, for the most part, story of how my mother prevented a possible sexual assault on my grandmother.
6. X
7. X
8. X
9. X
10. X

My new favorite picture of myself

Is that a tree growing out of your head or are you just glad to see me?



A man walks into a bar with a tree growing out of his head ...

This is not a dream

It's a quarter to four in the morning and I can see the moon outside my bedroom window.
The wind has been blowing strong and steady throughout the night, but I can't hear it now.
It is very cold outside and the house is cold too, but the cold feels good.
I just finished watching a movie. The kind of movie that you fall asleep thinking about.
I am not tired or sleepy. Usually at this time of the morning that would worry me, but not this morning.
I feel the humming.
I am the humming.
I just glanced out the window again, and the moon is still there.
Goodnight.

In other words

That's it.
This weather sucks.
Forty mile an hour winds.
Temperatures in the 20's.
Snow and blowing snow predicted.
I'm moving to South America.
One of the parts where it is always warm.
One of the parts where everyone speaks English.
I'm moving to South America.
I'm going to start a Creedence Clearwater Revival tribute band.
We'll play Born on the Bayou six times a night.
I'm moving to South America.
One of the parts where all the women look Spanish and wear peasant blouses that show a lot of cleavage, and it's not that I have anything against the more Latin American look, it's just that I'm sort of obsessed with the Spanish look at the moment.
I'm moving to South America.
One of the parts where the beer tastes like Diet Coke, and I'm going to stay drunk all the time.
I'm moving to South America.
One of the parts that has a lot of sidewalk cafes where I'll sit with the bill of my cap pulled down over my eyes and the locals will all refer to me as the Crazy Gringo, but they'll do it with a smile on their face, because I'm the type of guy that always brings a smile to your face.
I'm moving to South America.
But I'll be sure to take a gun with me.
A real big gun, just in case because of bandits and revolutionaries.
I'm moving to South America.
I'll tell everyone that I knew Elvis, the young Elvis, the Elvis that was banging Ann-Margaret in Viva Las Vegas, and Brando, the young Brando, the Brando from Viva Zapata.
I'm moving to South America.
In a Buenos Aires minute!

In my life, in my next life

I think in my next life I'd like to be healthier.
And I'd like to be taller.
And I'd like to be thinner.
And I'd like less of a bald spot on the back of my head.
And I'd like at least one super power.
And I'd like a talking dog.
And I'd like to meet Ivan.
And I'd like to be able type better late at night.
And I'd like to know what Creme Brule is.
And I'd like to walk into a restaurant and call the waitress Honey and have her smile back at me.
And I'd like to have six toes on my left foot.
And I'd like to be more like Atticus Finch, but taller.
And I'd like to have something named after me.
And I'd like the voices in my head to make up their minds already.
And I'd like people to believe me when I told them that I was at Woodstock and got a blow job from the girl singer in that group that nobody remembers because they performed at seven in the morning in the rain.
And I'd like to go to bed now with my talking dog at my feet.

I have a reason to smirk.

The house is making funny noises, my left leg hurts, one of my tattoos itch, and I can't sleep, so here I am, and thank god for the backspace key because every other character I type is a typo.
My left arm also really hurts.
Now my right arm hurts too.
My nose just started running.
I'm serious, my left arm REALLY hurts.
My Zune says for me to say "hi" to everyone.
My right shoulder just started hurting.
I'm going to bed, call me in the morning, but not too early.

Starring Jack Lemmon and Sandy Dennis as the April Fools

FUCK!!!
I'm trying desperately to write something tonight.
Something deep, something funny, something that will tug at your heart strings.
But nothing, nothing, nothing.
It's weird, because I've always been able to write early in the morning.
SHIT!!!
Never mind.

Hey, let's go get blood tests!

It's one thirty in the morning and I've got my Zune tooting.
It's playing an instrumental. I think it's by the Quicksilver Messenger Service.
I also have a toothache, and I'm halfheartedly surfing porn.
If I find something good I'll post it.
Nothing yet.
Hark, is that Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs?
I like this one ...



Many critics feel that Bob Dylan's 1970 release Self-Portrait sucks.
They could be right.
I just yawned the yawn of the dead.



You really can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant, and I guess Arlo doesn't have to worry anymore about getting Woody's Disease, whatever the hell that is.
I'm really pretty bored.
I think I just found a picture of my cousin, guess not.



It's two thirty in the morning Tonto, and I'm going to bed.

I thought this was funny when I first made it a couple of days ago

Nighters

It's very windy.
How windy?
Raising the ceiling tiles windy is how windy.
Yesterday was the 38th anniversary of the start of my enlistment in the air force.
Yesterday was also the 38th anniversary of the death of Dwight D. Eisenhower, and my grandfather.
Is Timothy Leary dead yet?
I wore an ace bandage on my left thigh all last night, no picture available.
MB thinks I'm a brilliant photographer.
I had half a Reese's McFlurry tonight.
So, this massage therapy thing, is it any good?
I'm going to watch a movie with Mary Louise Parker in 5 minutes.







I'm listening to the Moonie Pottie song!



Dun, dun, dragging the line.

Damn, damn, damn

Was I in here last night, and did I spend twenty dollars?

It sucks being a hypochondriac at four in the morning

It's almost four in the morning, and my eyes are burning, but I can't fall asleep, and I'm sick to my stomach because I ate a lot of junk kind of late at night, and I watched a movie with Samuel L Jackson and Eugene Levy, and how odd a pairing is that, but like I said I have an upset stomach, and my eyes are burning, and I just noticed that both my arms really hurt too, and I've got things to do tomorrow, or I guess I mean today, because it is today, I've got to take the Zune back, and I'm not going to rehash that, and I just felt like throwing up a second ago, but I didn't, and actually my whole body hurts, and I'm starting to sway around and around and around like a faith healer when he's on a roll, and ...
YES!!!
THANK YOU JESUS
And I just felt like throwing up again, but once again I didn't, and seriously my arms are really hurting.
And I got two 8x10 prints made at the Evil Empire, and I have to pick them up tomor... I mean today, and one of the prints is the one of the lake from my last post, and the other one is a picture I took of a deer in the woods a week or so ago, and now my back feels like it is about to give out, and why do I do these things, you know what I mean eating things sort of late at night which I shouldn't eat, and there, I just felt like throwing up again, but didn't.
FUCK!!!
I hurt all over.
It sucks being a hypochondriac at four in the morning.
It sucks being anything at four in the morning.

Shit happens more than you'd care to think

What I did today.
I went to Oscoda.
I bought something, but I can't remember what it was.
I'm sure I bought something.
I'm positive I bought something.
Yes, yes, yes, I bought some baking soda, or powder, the arm and hammer one that you put in your fridge to COMBAT ODORS!!!
I ate lunch, or maybe an early dinner. I debated getting pizza at Howie's or a burger at the BK, I got the burger, it was a lot cheaper.
I came home.
I went back out.
I did some grocery shopping.
I got some bread, and some tomatoes, and some other stuff, yeah, a can of beets, and some bread and butter pickle slices, and I bought some of that orange cleaner stuff in a spray bottle, I've never tried it before, but it was only a buck so what the hell.
I stopped and got a diet coke.
I went to the city park in ET and drank the diet coke.
I took some pictures through the open sun roof, but I don't feel like posting any right now, ok, you talked me into it, hold on while I find one.
Ok, here it is.



It's the gazebo and the jungle gym thing that the kids play on, and of course the water.
Then I came back home and decided to take a walk.
First I dropped my Zune on the floor, it worked fine, but now it doesn't, so I'll take it back to the store tomorrow, if I can remember which one I finally bought it from, but I'm not worried, and I don't have any qualms about taking it back after I dropped it, it's not my fault that I dropped it, it's BELLE'S fault, everything is her fault, everything bad that has ever happened in the history of the world is BELLE'S fault, and did you know that in Latin Belle translates to Kielbasa, and we all know that Kielbasa is the DEVIL'S FOOD, so I guess I made my case, or something.
Anyway I took my walk, and I took this picture right across the street from my house.



And then I got back from my walk, and I think I surfed the internet, and uploaded a lot of pictures to my computer, and oh yeah, I did a lot of stuff this morning before I went to Oscoda, but it wasn't nearly as interesting as the rest of the stuff I did today.
Now I am completely lost, and I'm going to bed.

I'll have a laudenum, and make that to go

Ok, there is a Molly Parker movie coming on in about a half an hour, and I try to catch everything that Molly Parker is in, and no she isn't attractive, at least not in the conventional sense, and probably not in the metaphysical sense either, but every time I see her on screen my heart just melts a little bit, but that could be from the almonds which I'm sure I am allergic to, and now I'm starting to sweat, and I don't if it's the almonds or if it's Molly Parker, or it could just be the thorn in my foot that really isn't there except in the metaphysical sense, and there's the word again, and I almost typed orgasm instead of again, or maybe I almost had an orgasm ... AGAIN!!!

It's a strange world that we live in Master Jack

For Better or Worse the first 25 songs that came up when I hit shuffle on my $219.99 Zune, which I originally paid $249.99 for, but that's another story, and it's actually not really that scary even for me.
1. Excitable Boy - Warren Zevon
2. Devil In Disguise - Elvis Presley
3. Rockabilly Funeral - Commander Cody
4. Pow (The Theme From What's Up Tiger Lily) - The Lovin' Spoonful (That's the only Woody Allen movie I can still watch.)
5. Dairy Queen - Norman Greenbaum
6. How Can We Hang On To A Dream - Tim Hardin (Dead, dead, dead)
7. A Truer Love You'll Neve Know - Bobby Bare & Skeeter Davis (How'd that get on there?)
8. Master Jack - Four Jacks And A Jill (Master.... and Jack... get it, get it, get it!)
9. Anticipation - Carly Simon
10. Poor Side Of Town - Johnny Rivers
11. Time Has Come Today - The Chambers Brothers
12. Where The Action Is - Freddie (Boom Boom) Cannon (Cannon, boom boom, get it!)
13. C'mon And Swim - Bobby Freeman
14. Show Me - Joe Tex
15. Mercy Mercy Mercy - The Buckinghams (When I was stationed on Crete in the Air Force I had a friend from Chicago who claimed he was the original bass player for the Buckinghams but he quit before they got a recording contract.)
16. Ramblin' Man - The Allman Brothers Band (Were you as surprised as I was when Greg Allman married Cher?)
17. People Who Died - Boink (Not to be confused with Mr Zoink)
18. Manic Monday - The Bangles (Which one of them posed for Playboy after their 15 minutes were up, or maybe that was that other all girl group.)
19. Society's Child - Janis Ian (I almost typed Society's Chode)
20. Maria - Blondie (Did you see Blondie on the Midnight Special when Debbie Harry wore a Baggie as a dress, or did I dream that?)
21. Rebel Rouser - Duane Eddy
22. Young Girl Blues - Donovan (The masturbation song)
23. Ro Ro Rosey - Van Morrison (One of my favorite really bad songs of all time)
24. Season Of The Witch - Julie Driscol And The Brian Auger Trinity (Yawn)
25. You Send Me - Sam Cooke
And one more ...
Homburg - Procul Harum (I actually knew all the words to this when I was 18 years old and used to sing it just to be pretentious.)

Attempted short story, more or less, but probably less. Part 7

I guess we were about forty five minutes out of Rapid City on the way back to the farm when Uncle Ned pulled into a little grocery store right off the side of the road. Aunt Junie asked if this was the place, and Uncle Ned said that it was. Aunt Junie then asked Uncle Ned if it was her turn, and Uncle Ned said yes, and he told her not to forget her purse this time. Aunt Junie smiled a little and reached under the seat for her purse then looked at me and said that she had to pick up a few things for tonight's dinner and that she would only be a minute or two, and with that she got out of the truck and went into the grocery store. After a bit Uncle Ned, who had been silent for most of the drive, asked me if I liked baseball. I told him that I did, and that I was a Detroit Tigers fan. Uncle Ned started to say something else when I turned and saw Aunt Junie hurry out of the grocery store. When Uncle Ned saw this he started up the truck, and told me to ...
Scoot over boy, and give your Aunt Junie some room.
No sooner had I scooted over than Aunt Junie opened the door, jumped in, and stuffed her purse back under the front seat, and then Uncle Ned took off.
Uncle Ned asked Aunt Junie how everything went, and Aunt Junie said everything went off without a hitch.
Uncle Ned let out a low whistle and drove on.

Googles that brought people here

narrated porn for the blind
roy scheider's parents
jesus saves but howe scores on the rebound
naked nabor blog
female cartoon hospital traction
mumble mumble
crispin glover stuttered
eve plumb fallout
booze entertainment pumpum
and i was like get me some waffle fries bitch video (my personal favorite)
indian's breakfast food
fuck bambi
thongs of the 90's
james woods penis
and of course ... alfalfa's hate poem to darla

Money Talks

I woke up this morning and was immediately pissed off.
Kmart has Zunes on sale this week for $219.99.
Ten days ago I paid $249.99 for my Zune at the Evil Empire.
Thirty bucks ... thirty fucking bucks!!!
I called up the Evil Empire and asked if they did price matching.
The woman who answered the phone said ...
Huh???
I said, do you match competitor's prices.
She said ...
Let me connect you with Customer Service.
Fine.
I asked the woman in Customer Service if they matched prices.
She said that it depends.
I said on what.
She said on what you bought.
I told her that I bought a Zune ten days ago for $249.99 and this week it is on sale at Kmart for $219.99.
She said, sorry, we only price match for seven days.
I said ok, I was just wondering.
But I wasn't wondering, I was festering!!!
Thirty bucks, thirty fucking bucks.
I mean, I couldn't enjoy my Zune knowing that I could have gotten it thirty dollars cheaper.
But fuck, what could I do.
Anyway, it was a nice day out, so I thought I'd go for a ride, and somehow my ride ended up in Oscoda, where the Kmart is located.
So, I went in the Kmart, but I avoided the electronic department because I couldn't bear to see the Zunes for $219.99. I just couldn't. I had to forget about it. I had to forget about the thirty dollars. I just had to!
I went all through the store.
I checked out the HBA.
I checked out the appliances.
I checked out the rugs.
I checked out the men's department, which was pretty cool because all men's clothing that was already on clearance was marked down an additional 50% from the lowest ticketed cost, and I was able to get a pair of Miami Ink boxer shorts for $2.50.
But, but, but ...
Something kept pulling me to the electronics department.
Drawn like iron shavings to a magnet.
Drawn like a moth to a flame.
Drawn like a boz to a Zune.
And there they were...
Zunes, and Zunes, and more Zunes.
There were white Zunes.
There were brown Zunes (yuck).
There were black Zunes.
And ...
They were all $219.99!!!
I couldn't stand it.
I had to get out of the store.
I needed fresh air.
I needed to clear my head.
I needed a Coke, so I stopped at Burger King.
And I sat there.
Thirty dollars ... thirty dollars ... thirty dollars.
I was sweating, flop sweat.
I got my wallet out.
I took the receipt for my Zune out, yeah, I was amazed it was in my wallet too.
The receipt said you could return mp3 players up to 15 days from purchase for refund or exchange.
I got an idea.
Ok, remember it's Sunday, and I don't like to think too much on Sunday, so my idea might not sound to bright to you, but bear with me.
I could go home and delete everything from my Zune and repack it, and take it back to the Evil Empire for a refund and then drive back up to Oscoda, which by the way, is about a 35 mile round trip, and then I could purchase one of the $219.99 Zunes from Kmart.
But, you know, I had all this music on my Zune, and I didn't want to go through all the trouble of having to delete it, then having to wait three hours while the battery of the new Zune charged, and then loading all the music back on.
So, I just sat there, befuddled, confused, dumbstruck, at my wit's end, and THIRSTY.
So I took another sip of Coke and then ...
IT HIT ME!!!
Go back to Kmart, it's right next door to the Burger King, no problem there, right.
Ok, go back to Kmart.
Buy a Zune for $219.99.
Take it home.
Put the $219.99 Zune in the $249.99 Zune box.
Take the $219.99 Zune (in the $249.99 Zune box) back to the Evil Empire and get a $249.99 refund, and ... and ... and ...
I'd have my thirty bucks,
Thirty bucks, thirty bucks, thirty bucks!!!
Without having to delete, repack, and reload.
So, I did, and it worked, and everyone is happy.
I got my thirty bucks.
Kmart got a sale.
And the Evil Empire got a brand new Zune which they could sell for as much money as they wanted, because I didn't care, because ...
I had my thirty fucking bucks!!!
Yes, I am a genius, even on Sunday.

Attempted short story, more or less, but probably less. Part 6

After what seemed like an eternity of hugs, kisses, and questions my up until then silent Uncle Ned bent over to pick up my two suitcases, shot a look at Aunt Junie and said with a smile ...
"Jesus H. Christ Junie, let the boy breathe. We've got a long drive ahead of us, and you know I don't like driving the truck after it gets dark. Let's go!"
Aunt Junie stepped back and laughed, grabbed me by the arm, and without once letting go of me led me over to Uncle Ned's truck.
That was the start of it.

Attempted short story, more or less, but probably less. Part 5

When the train pulled into the station in Rapid City there they were, Uncle Ned tall and thin with a lit cigarette cupped in his hand and Aunt Junie looking like a slightly younger less frazzled version of my mother.

Attempted short story, more or less, but probably less. Part 4

Aunt Junie and Uncle Ned didn't have any children. I heard my grandmother tell my mother one time that if Aunt Junie had any more miscarriages that it could kill Aunt Junie, and then one time when my mother was talking to Aunt Junie on the phone my mother mentioned something about adoption, and then my mother got a shocked look on her face, and after about a minute of just nodding her head my mother hung up the phone, got a cup of coffee and went and sat in silence on the front porch until my father got home from work. My parents sat and talked in hushed tones for about an hour, then my father stood up and said something to the effect that if that's what you want go ahead and arrange it.
When school ended for the year I was sent out to South Dakota to spend my summer with Aunt Junie and Uncle Ned.

Attempted short story, more or less, but probably less. Part 3

Both of Uncle Ned's brothers had served stateside during the war and after they'd seen what the rest of the country had to offer neither of them had much of a stomach for farming, and no one was surprised when they both headed out to California in 1947 with promises of job security and top wages in the aircraft industry.
So when Uncle Ned's father passed away from a massive coronary in 1951 Ned inherited the family farm free and clear.