Thursday, June 30, 2005

Drawn to the flame

I loved my last post.
It's as truthful as I've ever been, with little or nothing added for effect.
I've wanted to write this, or tell this, or put this down on paper forever.
Twice while writing it, my emotions welled up to the surface, exposed, laid bare,
As close to tears as I have ever come while writing anything.
Three hours later and I'm still on a buzz.
I don't want to let it go.
I want to keep re-reading it, reflecting on it.
This must be what writing is all about.

If two trains are travelling in the same direction

It was a Sunday morning just a couple of weeks before school let out for my sophomore year.
I was still asleep when my mother and my sister came into my bedroom, my mother was carrying the Detroit News.
My mother said there had been a very bad accident involving three kids from my school, and she was wondering if I knew any of them.

She started reading the names.
I never opened my eyes.

Art Pa ...
Art Palazone, yes I know him.
He was the driver, he wasn't hurt.
Randy Op...
Randy Ophiara, yes I know him.
His arm was broken.
Joe De...
Joe Debonnville, yes I know him, he's in my English class.
He died at the scene.

My mother and my sister stood around, I guess they were waiting for some kind of response from me.
I didn't have any.
I just laid there in bed, the covers pulled up all the way, my eyes still closed, really not thinking or feeling anything.

I had known all three of them since 7th grade.
I knew Art and Randy to maybe nod at in the hall.
Joe I knew a little bit better, we had sat next to each other in Mr. Shoemaker's 8th grade math class.
I'd help him with answers every once in awhile, really not that much, but I guess he appreciated it, because after that whenever we ran into each other he would tell everyone that I was the reason that he passed 8th grade math. I would usually roll my eyes and say something like "yeah, right."

At school the next day it was quiet.
It was subdued.
It was sort of like the day we went back to school after President Kennedy had been killed.
The story circulated in hushed tones, from group to group.
There had been a drag race.
Art had lost control of his car when another car pulled out from a side road.
His car hit a tree.
The three of them managed to get out of the car.
Joe was up walking around.
Then he started coughing up blood, and he fell over dead, just like that.
Fifteen years old, and dead just like that.

There was no announcement over the PA before classes started.
Miss Cobb, my English teacher, Joe's English teacher, tried to say something, but broke down in tears.
There were no grief counselors, there was no time off to go to the funeral.
Dead at fifteen and all he got was his English teacher breaking down when she tried to say his name.
Joe DeBonnville, dead at fifteen.
Forty years later and he's still Joe Debonnville, dead at fifteen.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Ennui on a muggy afternoon

Hot Woman

Sometimes we forget.

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Hot woman in underpants doing the butt dance.

Halt ... Go

Simpleton asks:
What's a safety boy?

Answer: Back before they used to hire middle aged ladies with drinking problems as crossing guards to safely escort school children across the street there were safety boys.
Safety boys were 4-6 grade guys who were positioned at all cross streets on the way to and from school. A safety boy would not stop traffic to let students cross. A safety boy would hold the students until it was safe for them to cross. The cries of "HALT" and "GO" were the only words a safety boy needed to know. A safety boy could also report students who crossed on halt or for any number of school time violations.
Ok, I once got reported by a safety boy for sliding down the icy drive way at school while riding on the back of another kid, my defense was that by jumping on the kids back I was trying to stop him from falling.
A safety boy got to wear a white safety belt, which he had to learn to fold and wear on his belt, which is a lot harder to do than it sounds.
There were also safety girls, but they had the cushy job of manning the doors, I guess so no one could get in, like that's a real big crime or something. Safety girls did not wear belts they wore armbands which didn't need folding.

I was a safety boy when I was in forth grade, and I hated it. I mean the big kids never listened to me, and one time even a car with a couple men stopped across the street from me, opened the door and asked me if I wanted some candy. I told them no and they just drove off. Maybe I should have taken their license plate number down and reported it to the office, but if I would have done that, everyone would have gotten all freaky, and I would have probably had to talk to a cop, and a shrink, and my parents would have given me weird looks when they didn't think I was watching, and all the kids would have pointed at me and whispered about me being the kid, that you know, was offered candy from strangers, and of course the facts would have gotten twisted into that I actually did take candy from strangers, and that I was damaged goods, and I would be shunned by all the normal undamaged kids ...

So yeah, I didn't last very long as a safety boy.
But ...
In fifth and sixth grade I was one of the two guys who delivered milk to all the classrooms, which I really didn't like too much either even though we got paid, if you call free hot lunch and all the milk you could drink being paid, but since I went home for lunch and I didn't like milk you might say I was a SLAVE!!!

Wow, I was going to tell you about how all I ever wanted to be was a member of the student council, which I never was, and act all important and stuff, but this screed is way to long as it is.

So, Simpleton, I hope that answers your question.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Growing up a boomer - the 50's

I liked to sleep in the closet.

I was afraid to go in the basement at night.

Most of the girls in the neighborhood had a crush on me at one time or another.

I stepped on a rusty nail on my seventh birthday and had to get a tetanus shot.

I made the best catch anyone had ever seen in a baseball game at summer recreation, and everyone lined up to look at my glove.

I used to play that I was a super hero named the Black Hawk. I would dress up in a black turtle neck, black pants, black gloves, and the football helmet my sister had given me for xmas, and I'd run through the house and when I got to my room I would leap into my bed head first with only a pillow stopping me from hitting the wall. (Maybe that's how my spinal problems started.)

I used to ice skate in my back yard.

I used to go to every carnival that came to town and I'd get to sit between my two sisters on all the scary rides.

I knew all the words to the theme song from the Davey Crockett show, and I'd sing it at the drop of a hat.

My mom took a picture of me, as a baby, in front of the house where I obviously had a load in my diaper. Whenever we looked at the photo album I would try to get my mother to throw that picture away, but she told that there was nothing wrong with it, I had just fallen in the mud, and I believed her until I was in my 30's.

I once got in a fight to protect a girl, and I didn't even like girls at the time, and my sister gave me a dollar when she found out about it for being noble.

When I was a safety boy I once left my post unattended, and vehemently denied it when confronted with the facts.

My grandfather was visiting once and while he was saying grace before dinner I reached over to get a spoonful of green beans from the bowl, my mother looked up and yelled at me, after that I refused to eat any vegetables ... ever, and they couldn't make me, no one could make me, not even when I went into the air force they couldn't make me, or when I was in college they couldn't make, no one could make me, ever.

I used to listen to Big Daddy Zee on WXYZ after midnight, in bed, with the sound on my transistor radio turned down low, and I would pretend I was a teenager and I would pretend call in and request Happy, Happy Birthday Baby by the Tune Weavers, for my pretend girl friend's birthday, and then she would pretend call me up and we would talk the night away ... Hmmmmmmmmmm.

Sometimes that's just what it feels like

Monday, June 27, 2005

Leave your message

The number of calls I get from telemarketers is down to nothing, except for the calls I get from my former local phone company SBC.
Since I changed providers a little over a month ago the number of calls I get from SBC has steadily risen. They are even calling me on Saturdays!!!
I have received four calls from them already today.
Maybe my approach to dealing with them is wrong

Ring-ring-ring
Them - Hello this is Conchita from SBC ...
Me - SLAM!!!!!

Any suggestions?

Cruising for a bruising

Notice the three bruises just about my knee. They were caused when the doctor pressed his finger tips down on my leg and told me to push up as hard as I could, as part of the series of strength tests he put me through.

The Hedges from across the street

Harvey - The oldest, even older than my oldest sister. Enlisted in the army, spent most of his time in Washington DC. When he got out he married the daughter of a well to do local farmer, became a cop, and when things went bad he went out in a field and blew his brains out.
Shirley - Moved to the Upper Peninsula and had a shit load of kids, and whenever she came down to visit she tried to tell her mother how to raise her younger brothers and sisters.
JoAnne - A friend of my oldest sister. Dropped out of high school and married a perpetual teenager, a guy who never grew up. She had three kids and their first names all started with an R.
Gary - Was always trying to get my other sister to go out with him, and even she had sense enough not to. He was a real punk, and when he finally got hauled into court the judge gave him the option of spending some time in the county jail or enlisting in the army. He joined the army. He was an ever bigger punk when he got out. He was a drunk and a junkie and did his best to get his three younger brothers to follow in his footsteps.
Penny - Was a year older than I was. Probably the first girl I ever remember seeing naked, but she was like five and I was like four, and she wasn't naked enough for me to learn that girls had different equipment than boys. She turned me on to Betty Page and she worked in a bakery in high school and made enough money to buy a faux leopard skin coat and a 1964 Plymouth which she decorated with psychedelic flowers.
Wesley - A year younger than me. We were off and on best friends growing up. During the school year we never hung around but once vacation started we used to get in all kinds of summer trouble together. Enlisted in the navy for a six year term but only lasted about six months. Got out and fell under the influence of Gary.
Kathy - Born with Downs Syndrome. Never lived at home, always in an institution because that's the way they did things back then. Three or four times a year Mr and Mrs Hedges would load the kids who still lived at home into the car and they would go out and visit Kathy. She died when she was about ten.
Larry - Man, I know very little about him. Oh, he got a job with the city as a garbage man and had a fairly attractive girl friend who wore glasses and worked in an office.
Tom - The summer I got out of the air force him and Skipper from down the street kept trying to talk me into buying them wine. I always said no. Sometimes now I wish I would have said yes. A few years later he lost the tip of his index finger in an accident at the salvage yard he worked at. The owner, to avoid filing an insurance claim, gave him a car that ran most of the time.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Trip, Stumble, and Fall

It would be so easy to stumble and fall.
With people all around.
Some concerned.
Assistance offered, noted, but refused, with a shrug and a pained expression
Most oblivious.
Stepping over, or around, no contact, never missing a beat.

Even the third person is a person

Walk away
Change your look
Write a book
Pretend it doesn't matter
Pretend it doesn't hurt
Become invisible
Convert
Follow the sun
Roll your eyes
Shuffle your feet
Prepare to meet your destiny
Change your socks
Count to ten
Drop back and punt
Do not remove under penalty of law
Do not Fold
Spindle
or
Mutilate
Cross that bridge when you come to it
Stick to the back roads
And check for punctuation.

Don't Eat Weena

I laid around all day
Licking my wounds
And watching the kid from next door cut the grass
And sleeping
And eating ice cream
And sherbert
And potato chips
And watching DIY shows on BBC America
And downloading songs by Jim Kweskin and his Jug Band
And Taj Mahal
And drinking diet Coke
And trying to find a good movie on tv
And wondering where everybody was
And reading Marlys
And being Bhagarna the Foreign Man
And making this post.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

Then don't do that

Latest from the neuro-surgeon.
The two vertebrae directly above the vertebrae I had fused six years ago are both all fucked up, I believe that is the medical term for it, all fucked up.
Anyway, since it is two vertebrae over a fused vertebrae it is a very tricky procedure over which vertebrae to fuse because they don't like to have two fused next to each other, or a fused, a fucked up one, and another fused one.
So, there is a procedure involving a prosthesis , or psomething, that is awaiting FDA approval, and the approval should come by July of next year.
Soooo, the neuro-surgeon wants me to wait till next year for the new procedure.
Of course, if it gets worse blah blah blah.
That's when my mind started to wander.
Sound confusing?
Try deciphering it on a couple hours of sleep.
Oh yeah, I should watch out for whiplash or any trauma to my neck, because that could cause paralysis.

Fine

I have a doctor's appointment in less than an hour.
Ok, here's what I'm thinking.
Dr - There is something wrong with your spine.
Me - Duh
Dr - Hey, who's the Dr here?
Me - Well, yeah, I know something is wrong, but what?
Dr - Tests, tests, we need more tests!
Me - Ok
Dr - Fine!
Me - No, FINE!!!
Dr - Well, FINE!!!!!
Me - FINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dr - See the nurse and she will schedule your tests.
Me - Aw man, are we all done with FINE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thinking 'bout the times you drove in my car

I don't know, but the bass line of this song by Cream has been running through my head all day.
It is a very good song.
Ok, actually, here's the real story.
I have this one tooth, on the upper left hand side, a molar, that is very sensitive, it's had tons of work done on it, 115 fillings, or something like that, I think I have a crown on it now, but yeah, it is very sensitive, because it's roots go very deep, deep enough to where they effect my sinus cavity, yeah, just this one tooth, whenever my sinus are acting up I can feel it in this one tooth, so anyway, I had some sherbert today, and it was very cold, very very cold, and about five minutes after I finished my sherbert this tooth started throbbing, you know the coldness, and the roots, and my sinus cavities all started effecting this one tooth, and ...
Not only did the tooth start throbbing, it started throbbing the bass line to Badge by Cream.
True story, honest.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Stupid news for the stupid in all of us

1. Jug Twitty???
2. Oprah humiliated because boutique that was CLOSED wouldn't let her in.
3. Stupid Spurs.
4. Tom Cruise knows the history of psychiatry.
I guess four is enough, because it's hot and humid outside, but I am inside, where it is cool and air conditioned, so I guess that just goes to show that I am talking out of my ass again.

It's really hot out today

So I'm wearing the funky sneakers I got from one of the smaller retail chains down in Standish about five years ago.

No, I don't shave my legs, but if I did, I wouldn't tell you.

Blogger pictures


Hey look, you can upload pics straight to Blogger now.
Even though in my case you sometimes shouldn't.
At least not at six thirty in the morning.
But hey, it's Friday, Friday, glorious Friday, and where would Robinson Crusoe be without Friday, at least on Saturday night?

Thursday, June 23, 2005

I gave my underpants to a geek!

The AFI came out with a list of the 100 Top Quotes from US Movies.
Frankly, my dear, some of them really suck.
So, Belle and I stayed up half the night compiling our own way better list of movie quotes, and maybe some of them aren't quite accurate, but they sure beat ...
Snap out of it, from Moonstruck.
Anyway ...
Belle and Boz's Movie Quotes that should be listed somewhere
In no particular order
So, we're lesbians, what's the big deal? - Fried Green Tomatoes
Oh no, Pa is crying again - Little House on the Prairie
Jesus Christ on a hot plate - New Waterford Girl
I don't have a bedroom, I sleep in the hall, remember - New Waterford Girl
My head hurts - Mask
I wonder if my neighbors would call the police if I ran around with the empty fish tank screaming ARE THESE YOUR ROCKS - Belle, Portrait of a Woman Who Knew Too Much
Don't fuck with the babysitter - Adventures in Babysitting
Grow up, Heather. Bulimia's so '87 - Heathers
Well, sometimes I get them menstrual cramps real hard - Raising Arizona
Dr Marvin, Dr Leo Marvin!!! - What About Bob
I gave my underpants to a geek!!! - Sixteen Candles
No, I don't need to go places with him, that is why I wear this ankle thing - Belle, Portrait of a Woman Under House Arrest
Why are we wearing bras on our heads - Weird Science
I'm a kid, that's my Job - Uncle Buck
You do more ballhandling in one minute than Larry Bird does in an hour - Trains, Planes, and Automobiles
Tracy Turnblad, once again your ratted hair is preventing another student's geometry education - Hairspray
I'm going to need a whole lot more Jesus Juice before I'd even consider doing THAT - Home Alone
He could have filled your baby hole with babies - Pretty in Pink
My belt is on the floor and out of the corner of my eye I thought it was a SNAKE - Belle, A Study in Paranoia
I can't walk anywhere without you asking me where I'm going - I'm going to Paris, France, okay? I'm going to Banff, Canada, alright? That's where I'm going - the 'Burbs
All we got on this team are a buncha Jews, spics, niggers, pansies, and a booger-eatin' moron! - Bad News Bears
When a guy has an orgasm, how much comes out? - Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Hey, look, it's Justine Batman, she was soooo good in Satisfaction - Batman Begins

Feel free to add your own favorites.

One ply in a two ply world

Wednesday has become the hub of my week.
It is the day that the local supermarket gives a 10% discount to everyone 55 or over.
You don't know how much that means.
Not only is the discount good on all regular store items, it is also good on the very new and well stocked Dollar Aisle.
Which means you can get ...
Bar soap which is just like Dial, 3 bars for 90 cents.
Shampoo which is just like Head & Shoulders for 90 cents a bottle.
Really thin paper plates, 100 for 90 cents.
Medicated powder that looks an awfully lot like Gold Bond Medicated powder for 90 cents.
One ply toilet paper or paper towels, your choice, 2 rolls or 4 pack, for 90 cents.
A seven ounce bar of fine European chocolate, which probably comes from Albania or some other third world European country because it isn't all that fine for 90 cents.
An eleven ounce can of New York Style Classic Coffee, regular or decaf, for 90 cents.
Well, you get the drift ...
How can you beat Dollar Store items at 90 Cents Store prices???

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New York Style Classic Coffee

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Old guys on riding mowers

Ten things I saw on the drive back from dropping MB off at the Hair Place.
1. A woman wearing a blouse that looked like a US flag.
2. An old guy on a riding mower wearing a straw hat.
3. An old guy on a riding mower wearing a baseball cap.
4. An old guy on a riding mower wearing a Nike head band.
5. Two women in their 40's sharing a cigarette, but I bet they would claim they are in their 30's.
6. A sign for a garage sale that was last week.
7. Two broken up wooden palettes with a FREE sign leaning against them.
8. A kid wearing baggy shorts and a back pack about to go into a house.
9. Two city maintenance guys trying to figure out how to put up one of the new decorative street lamps.
10. A man who had a head on him like a monkey.

Let us all be friends, and laugh the laugh of a thousand deflowered virgins.

Bhagarna the Foreign Man is back!!!

The Sears Catalog, and other great american novels

Time to turn in and read one of the birthday presents I received from
The! Greatest! of! Amy's!
Good night and catch you on the flip side.
Ok, you might think it's a girly book, ok, so what if it is, because it's funny and sad, and it's like a comic strip, but so much more, and it takes me back to when I was a kid, cause this Lynda Barry chick is just a couple years younger than me, and we share the same pop culture flash points, and references, and all sorts of other good stuff.

Pop culture flash points, did I just make that up?

Pissing my life away

So, if you hadn't noticed, the last post was the last post for the grand ennui.
Pretty cryptic and shit, wasn't it.
Ok, it was temporary insanity.
I was bored for a couple hours.
Actually, I decided to end the grand ennui while I was taking a piss, and isn't that always the case.
But, I'm back.
It was a short hiatus, but it helped me get my head back on straight.
I needed the break.
I needed the time to reflect.
I needed to take a piss real bad.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

You know I lost the light
As I was moving through the night
Running from the grand ennui

Is the clock ticking?

The day is creeping up.

This Saturday I have another appointment with the neuro-surgeon.
He'll tell me what I don't have, and that I need more tests.
I don't know what to think anymore.

It's been over a year and we are nowhere, nowhere.
The pain is bearable, and there are days when I can fool myself into believing that I don't hurt at all.
The pain is bearable, but is it necessary?
What is taking so long?

If they would just give me a timeline on how long it will take.
A year, two years, five years, ten years.
I could live with it.
I could structure my life.
I could break it down into manageable intervals.
I could have a day that I could mark on a calendar.
A target.

You don't have to ease the pain.
Give me all you've got.
I can take it.
Just let me know that it will end, and when it will end.
Or that it won't.
Ok?

Monday, June 20, 2005

Bonnie ...


Bonnie ...
Posted by: boz48730 on Buzznet

... And Clyde


My parents from when they were teens back in the 30's.

American Gothic

I am starting to get very frustrated about my writing block.
There was a time when I could just start writing, about anything, you know, anything, and eventually a post would appear.

There was a time where I could just pick someone out of my past and just start writing about him. Like the kid who lived on the next street over, the red headed kid with freckles and glasses who was a year older than me.
I think his name was Grant Wood, but isn't that the artist's name?
Anyway, his last name was Wood, I am sure of that, and he lived the next street over from me, the street that our elementary school was on.
Grant, ok, let's call him Grant even though I'm not 100% sure that was his name. Grant was a sickly kid, his parents had him later in life, and maybe that had something to do with it, but yeah, he was sickly, ok, yeah, he had a bad heart.

After school one day, I think it was the spring of the year, the weather was mild, actually it was warm, and Greg and Ronnie, and I were goofing around down in Ronnie's back yard when we heard a siren then saw an ambulance speed by.
The ambulance stopped the next street over from where we lived, you know, the street where Grant(?) lived, the street where our elementary school was located.

The three of us ran over to the next street, the street where Grant Wood lived, and the street where our elementary school was located, and we got there just as the fireman were lowering a stretcher from the roof of the school.

We didn't know what the fuck was going on. I started looking around and saw my friend Toots, who lived on the next street over, next door to Grant Wood, on the street where are elementary school was located.

Toots told me that Grant Wood, the kid who lived next door to him, on the next street over, the street where our elementary school was located, had climbed up on the roof of the elementary school to retrieve a ball, had a heart attack and died.

Then we all pretended for about a half hour that we had really liked Grant Wood, and that he had been a cool guy, even though he wore glasses and had freckles, and he acted kind of girly, and then we all went home and had dinner, and watched television, and took a bath, and then went to bed, all of us except for Grant Wood.

So yeah, I used to be able to do that.
Just start out writing, and eventually come up with a post.
I just can't do that anymore.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Fathers Day

Ten things I remember about my dad.
1. He almost died as a baby.
2. He moved to Detroit from Tennessee when he was 8 years old.
3. He hopped a freight train with a buddy when they were 15 and made it to Dayton Ohio before they were caught.
4. His first date with my mother was in 1939 when they saw a re-release of the movie King Kong.
5. He saw the Leaning Tower of Pisa when he was in the Army.
6. He was wounded in 1945.
7. He punched out his foreman in 1946 when the foreman insinuated that veterans were looking for a free ride.
8. With a little help from my mother he conceived me in September 1949.
9. He bowled a 299 game while very drunk.
10. He managed not to murder me in my sleep when I was a teenager.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Rashomon

As I was driving north on M-23 the other day I saw three people on the shoulder of the left hand side of the road.
There was man in his mid twenties, walking fast, upset, and deep in thought.
About fifty yards back there was woman, of about the same age, stomping her feet, flailing her arms about wildly, her angry shouts soon changing to tears.
Finally, there was an older woman about 50 feet further back, tapping her foot, her arms folded, with a concerned look on her face.

And in less than ten seconds it had become just another incident that is now slowly burrowing it's way deeper and deeper into my memory banks.

Sniffle, cough, hack

I think I am coming down with a sinus infection, but I am also a hypochondriac, so I can't be sure.

I've been way too happy lately. I think part of it is, well, most of it is, Amy has a birthday in a couple weeks and I am having a blast and a half buying all kind of off the wall presents for her.

Anyway, I need ice cream, lots and lots of ice cream, for health reasons, yeah, health reasons. I swear my throat is so raw, from my real, or imagined, sinus infection, and ice cream is the only thing that seems to soooooooooooothe the rawness.

All of a sudden, I'm getting kind of dizzy. Maybe it's the change in weather, or maybe it's something else, or maybe it's nothing.

I need to read more.

I need to practice the harmonica more.

I need to not be so shallow and vain.

I guess that's all for now.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Would you like to swing on a star?

Nothing, is what I got.
Nothing funny.
Nothing sad.
Nothing uplifting.
Nothing interesting.
Nothing.
But fuck, am I happy!

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Muscle relaxer

Shower, full blast.
Dial Soap, White.
Alberto VO5, Pina Colada.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Shower wall, lean against it.
Relax, five minutes.
Watch it spiral down the drain.

Taking narcissism to a new level

I have two 4x6 inch sepia toned glossy photographs of myself just laying around.

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If you would like one, let me know.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

More than a birthday present

Melissa has chosen to share her best friend with me.

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Thank you Melissa.

I sleep in the hallway!!!

In keeping with my penchant for creating fake blogs, posting like mad for a couple of days, and then forgetting all about them, I give you ...
Jesus Christ On A Hot Plate
The Blog of Francis Pottie

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Letters to Boz

I get hundreds of letters every week just like those really popular and well written web sites, but unlike the aforementioned web sites, I do not sell the email addresses to spammers, or white slave traders. I actually read the hundreds of emails I get a week, well, not the real long ones, but most of them ...
Anyway, since most of my emailers have really serious questions I thought I would start a new feature where I select the best of the lot and reply to them in open forum.

Boz's Male Mail Bag

Dear Boz,
Is Katie Couric a lesbian. If not, is she married?
Yours Truly
L. Beau

Dear L,
No, Katie is not a lesbian, and yes she is married to the very masculine and hunky country singer KD Laing.
Your friend
Boz


Dear Boz,
Why do they call it a blow job when it is mostly sucking?
Curious in Conneticut
C. Lingus

Dear C,
It's one of those literary oxymoron things, you know, like military intelligence, jumbo shrimp, acting natural, and Whoopi Goldberg.
Your friend
Boz

Grab your socks

Strip me bare and point and laugh, just don't walk away.

Now it's the Beachboys and Don't Worry Baby.
Why don't you just cut off my balls and stuff them down my throat right the fuck now.

Don't worry baby, everything will turn out all right.

Of course you could end up living in a sand box full of cat shit in the middle of your living room, but ...

Don't worry baby, everything will turn out all right.

Assume the position, the fetal position, and prepared to get fucked up the ass.

I wish I could take some sad song, any sad song, and loop it in my head, and play it until sadness lost all meaning.

My cruise control is broken

There are all kinds of emotions running through my head.
I'm worried.
I'm concerned.
I'm on edge.
I'm helpless.
I'm in the dark.
I'm in denial.
I'm waist deep in the big muddy.
I'm left.
I'm right.
I'm smack in the middle.
I'm out of control.
I'm trying to focus.
I'm watching a movie.
I'm listening to Motown.
Here is some old lingering love, it's in my heart, and it's tearing it apart.
Because of these memories I never think of anybody you.

There's always Motown, isn't there.
You are what you eat, and I'm going to bed.

Monday, June 13, 2005

But there's still some ice cream

The cake is gone, it looks like we are in for an all day rain, and my sinus are killing me, so I guess that means everything is back to normal.
The birthday was really good. I'd have to rate it as one of top five of my adulthood. Mother Boz and Sister Boz were both very generous with their monetary gifts. I got a ton of great gifts, real honest to goodness in a box and everything gifts, from Amy. I got very special cards from both Sandra and Rosa, and I have been promised gifts from Melissa, Belle, and Jonnie, and Jonnie's, I am told, will be wrapped in a very manly wrapping paper. Then I got tons of greetings and emails from all sorts of friends and acquaintances.
But probably the best part was being out when my sister called and only having to endure her birthday message and not her birthday phone call.
Man, I need some Tylenol Sinus ... RIGHT NOW!!!

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Red Velvet Birthday Cake


Red Velvet Birthday Cake
Originally uploaded by boz48730.

Red chocolate cake.


Click the cake for more pictures.

Happy Birthday To Me

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Saturday, June 11, 2005

Nooooooooo

The call came today.
The call I have been dreading.

Hello, Kenneth, this is your Aunt Sandra, do you have any plans for next weekend?

Noooooooooooooooooooooo.

Ok, here's the deal.
Yeah, she's my aunt, but she's only like 4 years older than I am.
She's like 26 years younger than MB.
She's like younger than both of my sisters.
She's like crazy if she thinks I'm ever going to call her my Aunt Sandra.
She's like ten degrees of bat shit insane.
And ...
She wants to come visit next Sunday.

Noooooooooooooooooooooo.

I haven't seen her in twenty years, and I was hoping it would be another twenty years before I saw her again.


Noooooooooooooooooooooo.
Noooooooooooooooooooooo.
Noooooooooooooooooooooo.

She'll be here between noon and one next Sunday.
I hate my life, and while I'm at it ...
I hate your life too.

I hope my cousins Michael and Marcia don't come.

The new phone books are in, the new phone books are in, the new phone books are in !!!

In celebration of the return of audioblogger Rebel Leady Boy and I threw them a little welcome back party over on rw ... bs last night.
Here is the best of my offerings.

Hey Little Girl
this is an audio post - click to play

Friday, June 10, 2005

Banana Fana Fo Fana

Alpha Bravo Charlie
A little list I found on Self Inflicted Life.
Pick a like and a hate for every letter of the alphabet.

Like: AEP, Bonzo Dog Band, Camel Toes, Diet Soda, Ennui, Flagellation, Gratiot Drive-In, Herpes Simplex, Insomnia, Justine Bateman, Kenneth Cole Shoes, Long Legs, Masturbation, Neon, Ootids, Pin-Ups, Quinkert Blvd (the street I grew up on), Real World ... Blogger Style, Siamese Twins, Underpants, Vestal Virgins, Whole Wheat Bread, X-Ray Vision, Yesterday, Zoloft.

Hate:
Anal Leakage, Barf, Candy Grams, Dorsal Fins, Easter Bonnets, Figgie Pudding, Grey Socks, Hernias, Isometric Exercises, Jelly Sandwiches, Kumquats, Lestoil, Midol, Napalm, Opera, Pigs Feet, Queequeeg, Romaine Lettuce, Saddle Shoes, Turpentine, U-Boats, Vitaman A, Wigs, Xylophones, Yeast, Zagnuts.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Publish Post

My blog reading list is down to a half dozen or so.
Does anyone have any suggestions for new reads?
I like funny, and introspective, and off the wall, and honesty, and total bullshit, and pictures, and basic, and soothing templates with easy to read fonts, and self deprecation but not to the point of self-loathing, and diamonds in the rough, and I think I was just bitten by some kind of insect, so I'm going to go break out the Benadryl, but I think you get the drift.

What are the 39 steps?

Alfred Hitchcock, Huey Long, William Carlos Williams, Jonas Salk, Mandy Rice Davies, Rusty Warren, Hudie Ledbetter, Soapy Williams, Tony Bennett, Frances Farmer, Doak Walker, Gordon Sinclair, Emma Goldman, Nipsey Russell, Brock Peters, Doug Sahm, Margaret Chase Smith, Lou Duva, Neville Chamberlin, Sam Ervin, Fito de la Parra, Doug Clark, Snooky Lanson, Richard Afflis, Clyde McPhatter, Dolph Schayes, Dorothy Parker, Benton Harbor, Alice B. Toklas, Paul Petersen, Candy Darling, Zalman Yanovsky, Rachel Carson, Ish Kabibble, Evelyn Waugh, Roger Bannister, Medgar Evers, René Richards, Christian Barnard.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

The turn of the leaf

I've had two dishes of peanut butter fudge ice cream.
I guess that's all I have to say.
Well, we did have severe thunderstorms today, I guess that is blogworthy.
I mean really, I don't have anything to say.
It was hot today, and I wore shorts, and a black t-shirt, but that's not really interesting.
Oh, and I downloaded LimeWire today, and uninstalled Kazaa Lite.
Ahhh, and I bought some fresh produce today when I bought the ice cream that I had dishes of tonight.
Oh, and The Grand Dufus posted!!!
I think he is turning over a new leaf.
Let me c&p what he posted.

Monday, June 06, 2005
Things are looking up, my car is running, all my bills are paid, most of my legal problems have been settled, and I still have money left over. Looking into getting a new job now that I have my car, it will blow my old job away. Everything in my life that was a source of annoyment has been eliminated. Even my anxiety and back problems are gone. I am happy with my life. It has been a while since I could truthfully say that.


Are you buying it?

Anyway, that's enough, I guess.

To buy, or not to buy

I now have a Cafe Press store selling crappy boz products, at no mark-up.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Get thee to a nunnery

It's four forty five and I'm sick to my stomach, and I'm breathing through one nostril, and my eyes are burning, and I'm haunted by the memory of the Orange County Special Olympics Kick Ball Team in all their glory, and I wish you were here, and I wish I was there, and I wish pi was squared, and I've never had an out of body experience, or a pina colada, but I've walked on the wild side, and I've walked against traffic, and I'd waltz across Texas, and Taos, and Tawas, with you.
And the colored girls sing do do do, da do do da do ...

Monday, June 06, 2005

Tod Lubitch, you the man

Damn, what a day.
My team won, I watched The Boy In The Plastic Bubble, I ate popcorn, I spent money, I went out, I drove with the window down, I came back, I did a little dance, I turned the air on, I turned the air off, I turned it back on, I pondered, I showered, I cringed, I tensed up, I relaxed, I scratched my head, I scratched my foot, I washed my hands, I ate a popsicle, and I made this post.

Every day is bargain day at the Dollar Store

Quite possibly the worst movie of all time.

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And it's even worse when it only costs a buck.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

You supply the pictures, I'll supply ...

Cute white chick missing, media goes on feeding frenzy.

This is the voice of your conscience speaking

I was visiting Simpleton's blog about an hour ago and there was a phone number listed at the top of the page inviting people to call his super secret audio blog and leave a message. It must not be as secret as he thinks it is because every time I called it I got a busy signal.
So, being the quick thinker that I am, I recorded a FAKE message to let you see what my REAL message would have been like if I could have gotten through to Simpleton's Super Secret Audio Blog.
Do you think he might have blocked me?
Anyway, the FAKE message to Simpleton's Super Secret Audio Blog.

I was overland touring in my new Ferrari

The song that inspired the legend that is the Grand Ennui.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Saturday morning, smells like toast

Harmonica in it's box on top of the unopen learn to play the harmonica in 250 thousand easy lessons book.
Beatles on the CD player.
Hair uncombed.
Teeth unbrushed.
Bed unmade.
Stomach carrying on a conversation with itself.
Looks like rain.
Fast approaching noon.
Room in comfortable disarray.
Birds that mock me mocking.
Five seconds away from jumping back in bed.
At least I don't limp.

Friday, June 03, 2005

Beachboy's concert in the park in half an hour.

Time to break out the happy shirts.

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No, seriously, this is my happy look.

As Promised

The Boz Sock Puppet Theater
Presents
Driving Miss Daisy

Break a leg, but be careful with your hands

Stay tuned later today for ...
Boz's Sock Puppet Theatre production of
Driving Miss Daisy.
Starring Miss White Sock as Daisy Werthan
And Mr Black Sock as Hoke Colburn.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Spell Check Complete (No Errors Found)

Why is it so easy to write about death and despair and every crushing defeat in your life.
But the high points, the beautiful moments, always come off as trite and superficial.
Why is defeat more noble? Why does it teach us more valued lessons?
Surely we must learn from out triumphs, no matter how small, no matter how few.
There must be some kind of nobility in victory.
Life can't be all body shots, and broken bones.
The rain does stop. The sun does shine.
And everything that dies is reborn.

Never let it be said

Items in this picture.
A hall pass with my name on it.
A good luck plant.
My parents 50th anniversary picture.
Nine Stories by JD Salinger.
Two stereo speakers.
A tripod.
A picture of Amy.
A picture of me.
Lava lamps.
A ceramic skull.
The dead sea scrolls.
The kidnapped Lindbergh baby.
The soul of Jimmy Hoffa.
Amber waves of grain.
The Duke and the Dauphin.
The Green Monster.
The Blue Lagoon.
The Iron Curtain.
The last thing on my mind.
The Blackboard Jungle.
The Mighty Quinn.
The Lone Ranger's telephone number.
Tonto's MENSA card.
Maple Leaf Garden
The voice of my conscience.
The cut of my jib.
The ghost of my high school trig teacher.
A bunch of books I haven't read.
A couple of early birthday presents that I haven't opened.
So, that's what this is all about.
Yeah, I guess so.
Your birthday is coming up right?
Yeah, and ...
And you wanted to bring it up, but you didn't want ...
I didn't want to appear obvious.
So???
Yeah, it's the 12th.
Anything else?
No, but ahhhhh ... no.
Good.
Yeah, good.

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

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Happy Birthday Marilyn Monroe

The early years.

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The later years.

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I remember the day she died. It was back in August of 1962. My parents and I had just gotten home from the drive-in and my sister Delaine said she had just heard on the news that Marilyn Monroe had died. When my sister said that Monroe was 36 years old I couldn't believe how ancient she was.

Hello Dr Hunter Douglas ... Male Psychiatrist, this is Frida Kahlo ... Female Metallurgist

Remember when I used to be really funny?
Dr Hunter Douglas ... Male Psychiatrist
I mean funny in a manic kind of way.
Like Lucy on Lithium.
Like Benny on Benzedrine.
Like Rodney on Ritalin.
Like Frida Kahlo on French Toast ...
Yeah

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Frida, baby, I feel your pain.

A surprise in the litter box

The Divine Pissed Kitty had the following to say about me because,
a) I make her laugh, b) I don't make her puke, c) I deserve more love.

THE ENTITY FORMERLY KNOWN AS BOZ - The fourth incarnation of Boz, to be exact. He is funny. He is cranky. He hates feminine hygiene products, yet he posts girly pics. Also, he reminds me of Dylan, and of this song by Terry S. Taylor:

Tomatoes and potatoes and peas...
I put 'em in my hat, and I eat 'em just like that.
I put 'em in my ears and in my soup.
I put 'em in my pants, and I do a little dance
It always seems to take away my blues.

I don't know why. But seriously.
What more do you people want?! You make me sick.


If this ringing recommendation doesn't get me
Blogger of the Year, Senior Division, Mostly Continent
I don't know what will.
And dammit, I voted for McGovern before most of you were born.