Birds gotta fly

No post today.
Sorry, it's a glorious day.
And it's Saturday, and isn't that a day of rest, or is that Sunday.
Anyway, I've got other fish to fry.
And isn't that always the case.
But yeah, no post.
See, this doesn't count as a post.
This is more of an announcement, which isn't the same as a post.
And all of a sudden I am getting tired.
And didn't I mention something about having other fish to fry.
So, as John Prine would say
"Send my mouth way down south, and kiss my ass goodbye."

Do you want to hear something kind of truth is stranger than fiction weird?

I have always gotten Michelle Pheiffer and Uma Thurman confused.

Michelle Pheiffer



Uma Thurman



Ok, yeah, that is kind of understandable don't you think, they kind of look alike, and they have both be in a really bad movie where they wore latex.
So yeah, I think you will agree that I could confuse the two of them.

Now here is the spooky weird part.
They were both born on April 29th!!!
Holy fucking unbelievable.

Ok, maybe it isn't that weird but ...
They were born the same fucking day!!!

I mean really, except for the fact that their is a twelve year age difference, they are totally interchangeable. There is not a role that Uma played that Michelle couldn't play and vice versa.
Think about it ...
And they were born on the same fucking day!!!

There has to be a catch after twenty-two, am I right?

It's 5:35 in the morning and I am sitting here with one of those rice filled microwavable heating pads around my neck.
Which is better than I was doing a half hour ago when I was sitting on my bed with my head in my hands ...
But I'm bitching.
But I don't care.
Cause like I said it's 5:35 in the morning.
And I got the right.
The fucking inalienable right.
To bitch.
To moan.
To piss, but only figuratively.
And the heat pad is getting heavy.
And so are my eyes.
And it hurts to be in pain.
And whatever happened to the Grand Ennui?
And Baby Jane?
And the Snowdens of yesteryear?
The Snowdens of yesteryear?
The Snowdens of yesteryear?
The Snowdens of yesteryear?

Live from the Ryman

We had a full house tonight.
There was Hank, and Dolly, and Ernest, and Patsy, and Kenny, and Buddy, and Bobby, and Richie and Duane.
Fucking Duane.
Duane.

When did I become this smart?

I realized something earlier today.
I realized that instead of having to do the math and subtract three hours every time I wanted to find out what time it was in San Francisco I could just set one of my clocks to PDT.
I mean really, it was that simple.

Randomness connected by a thread

I didn't make my bed yesterday, I always make my bed, always, but I didn't make it yesterday.

I'm listening to Astral Weeks by Van Morrison.

Fuck August, I'm getting the spinal surgery at the earliest possible date. I don't want to spend another three months plus of my life like this. I've got some markers I can call in, people owe me, and it's time they started paying up.

I just looked over my right shoulder, out the window, and in the past hour the lake has turned from dark blue to steel grey.

This is the first time in weeks that Thursday hasn't felt like Friday.

I am waiting for the perfect moment to get dressed.

I bought three new t-shirts yesterday, they are all three neatly folded and laying on my still unmade bed.

The evil karma of the bobbleheaded clown doesn't stand a chance.

It is the perfect moment.

Nocturnal Admissions

It's six in the morning
And I should be in bed
Because I was up till three thirty three
Which is half of six sixty six
Giving the devil his due
Matching two for two
When the Seal Wife meets old Mack Heath babe
You know your sister don't stand a chance
You can talk all night
And never say the word
But you know it's there babe
Just beneath your breath
Give me your hand
Never mind the cognates
Let me give you all I've got
I guess that will have to do
But you know that John and Iris
Are going to meet sooner or later
And dance barefoot to Otis Redding
On some moonlit beach, or back in their room

Seven Seconds From Death

I swear to god, I thought I was going to die.
I had just swallowed my last bite of dinner, it didn't even have the chance to go down all the way, when I got a violent case of hiccups, the kind that start out silent but end up sounding like an emergency broadcast alert.
Then I started sneezing, while hiccupping, and I started panicking.
What if I burp, what if I cough, what if I fart.
I was staring death in the face and I knew it.
I coughed once, I coughed twice.
I hiccupped violently.
I sneezed.
Dear god, it can't end like this.
And then, oh fuck no, and then ...
BRAIN FREEZE
I just let my body go limp. I knew this was the end.
I saw the light, oh yes, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, and people, yes people, people that I knew, people that I knew who had died, were motioning for me.
Boz, Ken, Boz Ken, come to the light, come to the light.
So calm, so soothing, so peaceful.
Come to the light, the light, the light.
Then something happened, I'm not sure what, it might have been the heartburn, but the light started to dim, and the people started to fade away, their cries muffled ...
Ok, I've taken this far enough.
I hiccupped, I sneezed, I coughed, I had brain freeze, and heartburn, and I lived to tell about it.
Yeah, right, big deal.
I could have used the vacation.

The look

I talked to my sister on the phone today.
She said they'll be taking their vacation in August, so that looks like when I will be having my spinal surgery, if I need spinal surgery, which I am sure I do, and of course everything will depend on the neuro-surgeon's availability, but yeah, August sounds like a go.

I was telling this to my mother today, while we were out, and she started shooting me this look every few seconds. I think it was a worried look, I couldn't be sure, I was driving, and I couldn't look over at her. I really didn't want to look over at her, because besides worry I am sure there were a lot of other emotions in the look.
Ok, truthfully, I was afraid to look because I knew the look was all about guilt, her guilt.

When my mother was expecting me, she had some health problems, and the doctor prescribed some sort of new miracle drug that had just come on the market. It might have been for morning sickness, I don't know, I'm not sure.
Anyway, she took some drug, for some health problem.

Then sometime in the 70's it was discovered that one of the drugs prescribed for expectant mothers in the late 40's and early 50's could cause some delayed and long term health problems for the child.
She has no proof she took this particular drug, and no way of checking back, because her pediatrician has long since passed away.
So there is no proof that she took this drug.
But, she believes that she did, and that is all the proof she needs to feel guilty for every health problem that I have ever had in my entire life.

And that is the look that I knew my mother was giving me, and that is the look that I didn't want to see, because drug or no drug, she has nothing to feel guilty about, absolutely nothing, but it is useless trying to tell her that.

An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter.

Songs that are almost perfect, at least for tonight.

1. Harvest Moon - Neil Young
2. In California - Neko Case
3. Nadine - Chuck Berry
4. Allison - Elvis Costello
5. Just Like Tom Thumbs Blues - Bob Dylan
6. Little Angel, Little Brother - Lucinda Willams
7. These Days - Nico
8. Thirsty Boots - Judy Collins
9. Dock of the Bay - Otis Redding
10. Bruised Orange - John Prine

Bad Hair And No Snow Day

And a whole lot of cabin fever.



What happened to the 12 plus inches of snow they've been forecasting for the past three days?
I'm going out, yeah, and I might even go to the Dollar Store, and Burger King too.
Man, that sounds like a Sunday dream come true.

At the beep

I leave really crappy phone messages.
My tongue gets sort of all wrapped up around my heart and I just say things
True things, well, true things, yeah, true things, but true things that I don't know how to express, things.
But you know, I like to leave phone messages, because a phone message is me stripped bare. It is the completely honest me.
I mean, you only have a half minute or so.
That's not enough time to get your defenses up.
That's not enough time to collect your thoughts.
You have to react to the beep, you can't think, you just react, and it's pure emotion.
It's the emotion of the moment it's not the words.
That's what is important.
It's now what you say, it's not even how you say it, it's just that you say it.
This is a post for her.
From me.

The need for speed

I had to run out and get some things Saturday because we are supposed to get about 8-12 inches of snow by tonight.
I can't just take my time.
I have to do everything in a rush.
It is like I am working against a clock.
It was that way while I was out and it seemed that everything and everybody was transpiring to slow me down.
And it just made me want to go faster.
It reminded me of a Stephen King short story where the main character was trying to find a quicker, faster, way to work, you know to take less time getting to work, because time is so very important, and they would drive a little faster and knock a second or two of their time every day or so, or the way would find a new shorter route, and knock a few more seconds off their time, and eventually, and yeah, you know this had to happen because it's a Stephen King short story,
And eventually, they arrived before they left ... POOF

What?

1. French or Italian?
2. The Fat Lady or the Geek?
3. Clowns or Dentists?
4. Going down or going up?
5. Soul or Karma?
6. The last time or the next time?
7. Franny or Zooey?
8. Velcro or infinity?
9. Ten items or less or automated check out?
10. Easy or easier?

If you seek a pleasant peninsula

They're talking about snow for the weekend.
Not just a little snow, snow.
They're talking about up to ten inches of heavy wet snow, snow.
Fuck that.
It was eighty plus degrees on Wednesday, and now they expect me, and all my moods to deal with snow, fucking snow.
The sun doesn't shine and I can't get out of bed.
The wind blows and I'm predicting the apocalypse.
Fucking snow, at the end of fucking April.
I'll be catatonic.
High colonic.
And a bunch of other 'onics too.
Hey, Weather Channel and all your high tech gobbledy gook.
Take a great big bite of my ass.
And choke on it.

The first bug of the rest of my life

I woke up this morning to the sound of the first bug of spring
Throwing his little bug body against the ceiling again, and again, and again
Making that annoying little bug tap-tap-tap noise
As he tried to kamikaze his way through the ceiling tiles in my bedroom to freedom
I used to just take a newspaper and swat them
But now that I have become this zen-like idiot savant
I have become the bug
And now I am free.

Grand Dufus Update

Thursday, April 21, 2005
Holy shit I quit Winn-Dixie after 3 years 1.5 months. I never thought it would happen. It feels so good, but being broke sucks.

Editor's Note: Don't you just love a free spirit when they are free on somebody else's dime.

New Tricks

I was just watching Floyd the old guy from across the street.
Floyd was out walking his dog, some kind of beagle, or beagle mix, that was already old when he adopted it from the humane society after his wife passed away some ten years ago.
The dog got tired, or stubborn, or comfortable, or nostalgic and refused to move, and after ten minutes of prodding and cajoling Floyd knelt down and picked his old dog up and carried him home.

There is no Boz in Michigan

This is one of the days that I hate Michigan.
For starters it isn't California.
And it's April.
And it's not Paris.
And it's dreary.
And it's windy.
And there is a chance of snow for the weekend.
And there is no Michigan state of mind.
And trust me if you ever got stuck in Saginaw it would take more than four days to hitchhike from.
And it's not California.
And Pinconning is the cheese capital.
And I hurt.
And I'm depressed.
And it's all Michigan's fault.

Weather in the Altogether

It rained for the first time this spring.
One of those late at night, early morning rains that seem to come out of nowhere.
I like rain.
I like everything about it.
I like the minutes just before it starts.
I like seeing the first drops hit the pavement.
I like the sound it makes on the roof and against the windows.
I like driving in the rain, and adjusting the windshield wiper speed until I reach a happy medium, that both the rain and I can live with.
I like when it is raining so hard, that it is nothing but rain, everywhere.
I even like the thunder and the lightening, but only late at night, when I am in bed, and I am half asleep, and I am safe, and I know it can't hurt me.
I like when it slows to a sprinkle and you go outside and you can still smell it.
I like when it stops, and the sun comes out, and it is warm, and the steam starts to rise, and thirty minutes later you'd never known it had rained in the first place.
We all feel that way about rain, right?