We were very young and we thought that we were winning

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

This Weeks One Dollar VHS Purchase and kind of review

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



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

Buddy, can you spare me a dime?

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

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

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

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

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

A parody of a parody

Not Ready For Real World ... Blogger Style



The Real World ... Blogger Style

Let's do lunch, and then KILL KILL KILL

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

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

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

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

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



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

Silly songs for 200

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

Dazed and Confused

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

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



Front


Back

The little bird that could ...

Couldn't

Block

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

Buzznet Audio

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

It's as if ...

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

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

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

Bereft of life

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

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

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

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

Even then, and then even more so

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

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

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