More pictures: the 80's

The old man and I. I was two inches taller than him, but he always stood up straight and I slouched, there's gotta be some deep secret psychological reason for that.



Before I started looking like him.



Flanked by two of my cousins at a family wedding. The three of us are all the same age, born within a couple of months of each other. I guess we're about 34 in this pic.

Just a thought

I wonder how the Administation of San Francisco City College would react if they knew one of their students were using a library computer to harrass people.

Photo Request

I had a request to post a few pics of my ex-dog Benny.

Benny
1984-2000

Benny, two days after his adoption.



His first Halloween.



I taught him how to yodel



In the summer time he loved to chew himself raw, so ...

Lies I have told

We all know that I lie quite a bit in here, that's a given.

Probably the most famous lie I've told is that there is a rumor that I am the love child of John Wayne and Bettie Page. That's just a big lie, I am not their love child and there is no rumor.

I've also told loads of other lies, and that brings us to ...

Three Big Fat Lies I Have Told About Myself On The Grand Ennui

1. Hailie Selassie, the first manager of the Beatles, kicked me out of the group because he thought I had too much influence on the rest of the lads. This is not true, it never happened, I was never in the Beatles, I was however Freddie in Freddie and the Dreamers from 1963 till 1965.
2. I was to be the lead singer and bassist for the Monkees, but my arch enemy for life, that rat bastard Mickey Dolenz, told the producers I was main lining heroin in the men's room. Another lie, well the part about main lining heroin is the men's room is the truth, and that part about Mickey Dolenz is the truth, but the other part, the part about me being the leader singer and bassist in the Monkees, well, in my dreams, in my dreams.
3. This song isn't about me. Wrong!!! This song is about me, and I have the apricot scarf to prove it. Ummmm, neither the color apricot or scarves were considered gay in the early 70's.

Road Trip Part II: The Pictures

I was pretty excited when I went out today and ended up getting a
little chubby. (may not be safe for work)

And of course the highlight of the trip was the giant mice down in Pinconning.



Pinconning, the cheese capital of the whole goddamn world!!!

Finally, when I got home there was letter in my mailbox from my good friend Tom Hanks.



You probably don't remember but Tom and I co-starred in the 80's hit cross dressing sit com Bosom Buddies.



Good times, good times.

Road Trip!!!

I'm going on a road trip.
When I get back I might post a picture of my ex dog Benny who used to like to ride in cars and leave dog snot all over the windows.
Or I might tell the story about the naked picture on the gas station wall that started me on the road to being the evil pervert that I have since become.
Or I might write about some of the things I encountered on my road trip, too bad I don't have a current dog named Charlie, I think I could turn it into a book.
Or, I could take my camera and take a picture of the giant mouse down in Pinconning, which by the way, is the cheese capital of Michigan, hence the giant mouse, I guess.

The new black

Seven things you could say instead of
I think I threw up in my mouth a little bit

1. I am probably bleeding into my abdomen right now.
2. I think my sphincter just involuntarily relaxed.
3. I can feel a zit forming precariously close to a sexual organ.
4. I'm feeling slightly Oedipal at the moment.
5. I just had a daytime version of a nocturnal emission.
6. My feminine side just screamed a little.
7. The reasoning part of my brain that always says no just said fuck it, what the hell.

Bazooms

Back in the 50's and 60's all the Pin-up models had large natural breasts.



I think it was because of all the above ground nuclear testing going on out in the desert.

Even the squeal

A little poem about Ham

Ham is great
Ham is good
It comes from a pig
It's the perfect food

You can eat it thin
Or you can eat it thick
If you've got no bread
You can eat it on a stick

I like bacon
I don't care much for spam
Link sausage is pretty good
But I love ham

You can fry it in the morning
And have it cold at lunch
Bake it up in the evening
And smother it with brown mustard for an extra added punch

I won't listen to your warnings
Cause I don't give a damn
Let it be written on my tombstone
That ...
I LOVE HAM

When I dream sometimes it seems so real, and then there's this

I just had this dream where I was a young man and a folk singer
And it was night and I was walking down the back roads of this sleepy southern town called Fenton Louisiana.

Now as far as I know there is no Fenton Louisiana, but it has a nice ring to it, don't you think.

Like I said, I was walking down the back roads, and I was writing a song in my head, and bemoaning the fact that I didn't have pencil or paper handy to write it down properly.

Oh, the white folk hate the black folk
But the black folk just don't care
Cause there's violence, and poverty, and injustice everywhere

You see, I was a young man, and a folk singer, and that's the kind of songs we wrote back then.

Anyways, while I'm writing this tune in my head I get a message from a mutual friend who says that Bob Dylan is depressed and he could use my help.
And I said ...

Bob Dylan, what would I know that could possibly help him?
Besides, I don't even think that he knows who I am.

But I was assured that Dylan had asked for me, and my help would be greatly appreciated because, and as we all know, Dylan was a beacon for our generation and his light must never be dulled.

So I commenced to walking
Commenced to walking, that's a phrase you often hear folk singers use, it just means that they've started their quest.

So I commenced to walking down these dark lonely back roads not rightly knowing where I was going until I saw a light off in the distance.

When I reached the light, there was man all alone sitting in a toll booth, and when he looked up I asked him kind of sheepishly if he knew where I could find Bob Dylan.

He just grinned and pointed down the road to another light off in the distance and said that Dylan was drinkin' down at Ramblin' Jack Elliot's house.

So I walked on down the road, not rightly knowing what was the road and what wasn't, until I came to the house with a light in the window.

I knocked, and then I walked in, cause that just seemed like the thing to do,
And when I got inside there was Bob Dylan and Ramblin' Jack Elliot sitting at the bar, drinking beer and chain smoking unfiltered cigarettes.

I stopped for a second and then I said ...

Hey Bob, hey Jack, what's going on?

And Bob turned to me and through a shroud of smoke said ...

Nothing much, can I getcha a beer?

And I replied ...

Aw heck, I don't drink, and maybe that's why my songs always suck, but I would like a diet coke, if it's all the same to you.

Then I looked at Bob, and I looked at Jack, and I started to say something ...

[[[POOF]]]

And then I woke up.

The inner redneck vis a vis the common man

So there I was
Singing Springsteen
and Freddy Boom Boom Cannon
and Fraternity of Man songs
Off key, and in glorious black and white ... errrrrrrrr.
And smiling
And laughing
And sweating out loud
And feeling good
And conversing
And caring
And sniffling
And sneezing
And hosing down my monitor every twenty minutes or so
With the usual suspects
As we oozed down the highway in a gigantic pink twat.
Ah-ooooooooooooooh
Ah-ooooooooooooooh

So, yeah

I think ...
I think I'm about to sneeze.

I'm reading Henry Miller now.
I don't know if I am reading him because it is a challenge, or because it's something I want to do. I've read about 100 pages, and I find my mind slipping off the page every few paragraphs and thinking to myself ...
Hey, I'm reading fucking Henry Miller!

I think ...
I think I am about to sneeze again.
And again
And again
And again
And again
And again.

I think my whole body has morphed into some sort of other worldly life form
Like Chet
From Weird Science
After Lisa
The computer generated
Perfect woman
Turns him into a massive heap of snot and phlegm.
Which is rather Kafka-esque, don't you think.

Man, do I miss Gary and Wyatt.

Girls in hats with creamy skin

So, right at this very time I feel pretty good.
I got about an hour of sleep, but I didn't cough, or sneeze, or expectorate, or any of those other coldly things, and what the hell, I'll just sleep all day to make up for it, and everyone knows that when you're sick it's easier to sleep during the day than it is at night. I think it's one of those death comes at night maxims that makes it hard to sleep at night when you're sick, because despite what Blue Oyster Cult says you damn well better fear the reaper ... tra la la.

Yeah, I feel really nice. You know, I've got a little Nyquil with a Formula 44 chaser buzz going on here, and the ringing in my ears is more like a song, yeah, something from Forever Changes by Love, yeah, that's it ...

And if you'll see Andmoreagain
Then you will know Andmoreagain
For you can see you in her eyes
Then you feel your heart beating
Thrum-pum-pum-pum

Enough of this 60's psychedelica ...
Nooooo, you can never get enough 60's psychedelica ... never

Uhhh, where was I.
Oh yeah, goodnight.

Audio Nyquil Hallucinations

Shhhh, listen

Stop and smell the creosote

Man, am I bored.
Man, am I sick.
Man, am I tired of laying around all day.
Man, am I taking a lot of medications.

I crave salt, and ice cream, and a freshly made bed, and unclogged sinuseseseseseses, and the cool side of the pillow, and some raspberry jello with cool whip on top, and an end to the madness, and peace on earth, and a radio station that plays what I want to hear when I want to hear it, and fewer Ben Stiller movies, make that no Ben Stiller movies ...

And I've just lost the will to post, and wasn't Will Post the Attorney General under Calvin Coolidge?

Bring it on!!!

I'm ready.

Sick

Ok, I'm really dead on sick as a dog.
I'm sweating and I've got the chills and my head is stuffed up and my throat is raw, and a bunch of other stuff.
I just thought I'd tell you in case you were wondering.
I just finished watching House of 1000 Corpses and then I took some Tylenol Sinus, and now I'm watching Wrong Turn and I'm about to take some Nyquil.
Nothing goes with being sick as a dog as really bad slasher movies in the wee hours of the morning
I'll see you when I see you.
My fate is in your hands.
My ass in a sling.
Remember the good times, and always wear a condom.
Oh no, some teenagers are about to fuck, they'll be dead in five minutes.

When 40 turns to 60

I've been sleeping way too long and way too late lately.
So, I had a plan today.
I was going to get up fairly early, and I am too embarrassed to tell you what fairly early is for me so let's just leave it at fairly early.
Anyway, I got up fairly early with plans to drive down state, you know, a road trip, no plans really, enjoy the drive, hit a few stores, grab a bite to eat, but when I caught the weather report it said a sixty per cent chance of afternoon thunder storms, the further (farther) south you go the greater the chance.
So, I cancelled my plan and thought I'd just lay down for a few minutes and then run to the post office and the drug store when I got up.
An hour and a half later I woke up deeply ashamed and spiraling towards depression because of my lack of willpower.
But ... a voice inside me said
Boz, you can do it, get up, get ready, get out, and do things!
And I listened to that voice.
And I got up, and ready, and out, and I did things!
I went to the post office and mailed a package.
I went to Rite Aid and took advantage of their Anniversay Sale.
I bought 4 bottles of 2 liter pepsi for less than three bucks w/coupon.
I bought two tubes of Colgate 6.4 ounce Minty Cool, Minty Fresh, Minty Whitening w/Baking Soda and .... AND Peroxide for $2.99.
I bought a 128 bottle of, I dunno, some brand of laundry detergent for $1.88.
And ...
I bought two Hershey King Size candy bars for a dollar.
And then I came home.
My needs sated.
My urges quelled.
My ass sore.
So here I am, a half eaten Hershey bar on my desk and a sense of accomplishment welling up from deep inside me.

As always the voice from inside me was played by Frank Sinatra.

On turning three

Three years, a rebirth, a fork in the road, or just another point in time?
Three years of TGE and me, every day pounding something out.
Every day for three years pounding something out.
If a thousand monkeys typed on a thousand typewriters for a thousand years would they be satisfied if this was all they came up with?
If one Boz typed for three years at four differenet urls and this is was all he came up with would he be satisfied.
I suppose so, because this is what I've come up with.

Parallel Universes

Henry Miller and the Legion of Super Heroes.
Lord of the Flies and Archie Andrews.
Metropolis and Metropolis.

I've never been one of those guys who needed to remember and understand every word that I've ever read. I've always figured if I needed to remember it, if I needed to understand it, I would.
Because really, how much writing is just the writer verbally jacking off trying to fill up the page with wordy semen.
Seriously, I can't really be serious.

But anyway, I've started reading Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller, not to be confused with Arthur Miller, or Frank Miller, or Mitch Miller, but I can see the resemblance ...
Henry uses a lot of words. He like attacks you with words. He like rapes you with words. He like just keeps writing until you like catch his rhythm or like fall asleep as the book like hits the floor.
He also likes cunt, the word itself, and the pursuit thereof, and biting into clitorises and spitting out two franc pieces ...

Age, sex, location

So, I went to an adult chat room last night and ran into this woman named Janey who was into meat sex and lived in Switzerland.
It was really quite odd.
It seemed like I had known her for years.

If I sletp

I don't know what I am doing up at this hour of the mornuing,
It's kate, it's ealy, it's past the bewithcing hour but too early fopr breakfast,.
breakfast in the morning is nothing short of gl;oryu
But I made a pledtge, on the ledg ior my humanity thgat I would try this new fangekld thing , not drugs but you know the autotomatic writing tyope fio thiong where yuoui just start tyouing and follows where if leadss you to, too, 2 ...
So if I werer to ckloe my eyes and tyoe wuithg fioyr fubters abd ib e ibe gabd abd ibe fubger ib tge itger gbad wiykd tgat effect my sisnednsbiliteis>?

And for ten bonus piounts can, or will I be able to decipher this when the sumn breaks over the morning hahthahahahacga.
KLt qwas a noble expderiment that petered oujt somehwere between noble and experimentgood night.

You call that a haddock?

It's Friday morning, and this is not a post.



Do catholics still eat fish on Friday?
Has Stephen King written anything since his bicycle accident?
What will be the first thing I buy if I win the 250 million dollar lotto tonight?
Is Oregon jealous of Washington?
Will Chelsea Clinton be the first president who's (whose?) parents were both president?
Should I go back to bed?

Yeah.

Visionary

Melissa and I have started a weekly photo challenge blog.
Take a look, and if you're interested in joining let one of us know.

A duck walks into a bar

It's three thirty in the morning.
No time to sleep.
Too much time to think.
It's kind of neat watching my fingers type out words that a second ago weren't even in my brain.
There's a movie on right now about the early years of Che Guevara, the man who launched a thousand t-shirts and a couple of revolutions, but it has subtitles which I like, but not at three thirty in the morning, and isn't it funny how the idealists like Che and Trotsky, and I'm just pulling it out of my ass when I say that Trotsky was an idealist but stay with me because it helps to make my point ...
Isn't it funny how the idealists like Che and Trotsky die violent early deaths while Stalin and Castro seem to live forever, and yeah, I know Stalin is dead, but if you lived in the USSR at the time trust me it seemed like he lived forever.

I guess that's it, but damn, I'm really getting into watching my fingers type out words click, click, click, and maybe one of these days I should try automatic writing or maybe automatic thinking, or automatic pancakes, or this.

They named the high school after me

It's late.
I'm tired.
I don't want to go to bed.
I'm afraid I might miss something.
I'm afraid I might miss everything.
I'm afraid I might miss america.
Maybe I'm just afraid.

I watched the movie Blackboard Jungle starring Glenn Ford tonight.
Glenn Ford was a great actor. He always seemed to play a basically good man trying to fight off his inner demons.
Sort of like ... ME!!!!!
Just kidding, seriously.
I remember as a kid that my sister D used to say that junior high school was just like the movie Blackboard Jungle ... and I believed her.
I mean I was afraid to walk by the junior high school because I thought Vic Morrow was going to jump out and stick a shiv between my ribs.
What kind of horrible sister would tell her impressionable, and adorable, little brother such terrible lies?

The Horrible and the Adorable, circa 1957.

It looks like rain

I just had a great idea for a short story or a Lifetime Movie of the Week.

It's the middle of the day in a crowded department store. A guy walks into the restroom and when he comes out the store is deserted.

Speaking of bad television ...
How many of you remember the very very very bad American rip-off of John Cleese's Fawlty Towers starring John Larroquette, you know John Larroquette, the obnoxious lawyer from Night Court.

Today's pics

Ratchet

I should go out with the digicam and take some pics or something.
Actually, I should really go out and get a haircut, or call the dentist to set up my six month check-up, or call the car place and set up an appointment to find out why my car is making a rattling sound, I mean seriously, the car sounds like it has asthma, or at least a sinus flare-up.

Any requests on what I should take pictures of?
Hurry up, you've only got a few minutes before I leave.

Anyway, thank god for air conditioning and little bedrooms fans that help to circulate it.

You might be a redneck if ...

I will piss on your grave you disgusting, moronic, crippled redneck waste-of-life!!!
Justin | 09.12.05 - 2:14 pm |

Maybe I should consider getting cremated.

I'd rather be dead than to wet my bed ...

Well no, not really, 'cause I've wet my bed before and it's really not all that bad.

I am 55 years old.
While lying in bed last night it dawned on me that by the time any of you are my age there's a good chance that I'll be dead.
I mean, I was just lying there wondering what life's next surprise might be and it turns out it's death!
How's that for reality sneaking up and biting you on the ass.

I saw an actual honest to god pinhead at the Evil Empire today.



Not an actual honest to god pinhead, but a cartoon artist rendering.

Burp-ppppp

I ate too much for dinner.
I think I'll just go ahead and waste the rest of today and lay down and watch the football game.
So anyway, has anyone else made a complete fool of themselves over Big Brother 6?
I mean I had never, and I mean never, watched any reality show before the evil mind of moonie pottie got me hooked on BB6 half way through the season.

The women's softball tournament

There is a big women's softball tournament this weekend, with teams from all over the area, state, country, world, universe, competing.
The local business's love the women from the women's softball tournament because they spend lots of money on food, booze, entertainment, and femhyg products.
I guess that's all I have to say about the women's softball tournament, except to say I didn't use the word lesbian once in referring to the women's softball tournament.

I just took a shower

According to MB's birthday present bathroom digital clock it took me 23 minutes from start to finish.

Baby you can park my car

So ...



I picked up my new temporary handicap parking permit today and immediately went to the place with the biggest parking lot I could find to put it through a test run.
I saw a space right up front, only two spots away from the door, and pulled right in, and then I noticed ...
That it wasn't a handicap spot ...
I was this close --- to pulling out and looking for a different spot. I mean what's the fun of being special if you can't flaunt it?

In the news

He's a former body builder, you know, one of those guys who poses nearly naked with an oiled up body in front of thousands of cheering and screaming men.
Sounds like a classic case to me.

The post office person always sucks twice

The clerk at the post office threatened me yesterday, and when I say the clerk I mean the officious bitch.
I had a package to mail
She weighed it.
It would have cost five and a half bucks to send it first class.
It would have cost four and a half bucks to send it parcel post.
I asked her how much it would cost for media mail since it was only some used books and seriously even four and half bucks would have been too much, what with gas being seven thousand dollars a gallon.
She asked me if there was any first class correspondence.
I told her no.
Media mail came out to a buck and a half postage.
She then said ...
You know they can open your package and if ummm (((( her voice trails off ))))
I said fine, go ahead and open it right now if you want.
She said no, that won't be ummm (((( her voice trails off again )))

Oh yeah, I lied, there was some first class correspondence in the package, I enclosed
a. a letter
b. a cheese grater
c. a pair of tightie whities
d. all of the above except b and c
e. none of the above except a
f. a copy of the Magna Charta written in Pig Latin
g. the lost chord
h. the remains of Natalie Holloway or however the fuck you misspell her first name

It's a long way to Iowa City, but not nearly as long as you'd think

So here's the thing, yesterday was probably one of the best days I have had in my blogging history, which btw, in twelve days will be three years of history.
I spent way too much time online, but it was all worth it.
Can you believe it, I spent quality time, real quality time, with six of the seven other members of rw ... bs yesterday, and don't you just hate the expression quality time, but in this case it really fits.
Old friends, new friends, middle friends, and special friends from like two thirty in the afternoon until like three thirty in the morning, well, I told you it was way too much time, but still ...
And I think I've also found my calling in life. I think I should dedicate the rest of my life to fashioning existing songs into unique birthday songs for existing and unique friends and then singing them in my own existing and unique style.
Anyway, it's six thirty in the morning, I've had about an hour of sleep, there's a bug crawling around my monitor screen, and Garden State, which I didn't care so much for the first time, but which I now have a greater appreciation for, is about three quarters finished, and who knew that epilepsy could be so adorable, but I guess when you dig somebody just about anything can be adorable, and Andrew digs Sam, and I dig you, well the metaphysical you, or u, or ewe, and I think I should probably use my power of veto and go to bed.
And I think this post worked out rather well.

I think I'm going to clean the shed today.
It's filled with all sorts of junk and in total disarray.
I've got two lawn mowers, one with a broken wheel hub thingie, and a SNAPPER that I bought last year but alas am not able to use due to my spinal disk problem whatever.
I've got a ten speed bike which I bought at a garage sale for 20 bucks three or four years ago which I used to ride a lot but I haven't ridden since the year before last also because of my spinal disk problem whatever. If it were one of those sit up straight type bikes I could probably ride it but it's one of those Lance Armstrong Tour De France types where you have to lean over, drink water out of a water bottle and dope your blood type types.
I think there are about five trash cans, most of them without lids that I use to store the various shovels, rakes, and other work around the house type implements in.
There are also about seven lawn chairs which are just gathering dust and moss and rolling stones.
Blah blah, water hoses, blah blah, gas cans, blah blah, coffee can full of nails, blah blah, coffee can full of screws, blah blah, weed whacker, blah blah, leaf blower, blah blah, etc, etc, and yadda yadda sis boom bah!!!

Edit: I've changed my mind about cleaning the shed, it just seemed like too much work.

Urpppp

I ate a couple of slices of micro wave pizza just after midnight so I guess that proves that I've got some kind of death wish.

Weird dream #1950

I dreamt last night that I was in a panic because I had to take a shower and I couldn't find any shampoo which is odd because of this, and my dilemma was compounded by the fact that I wasn't wearing my glasses which made it difficult when I finally did find a bottle that looked like shampoo but always turned out to be conditioner, which is odd because I don't use conditioner, but my sister did, and I think subconsciously I blamed her for using all the shampoo, and I think all of this may be connected to the dream I had the night before about the German girl, and our impending marriage, and our plan to raise Missouri mule-dogs for fun and profit.

Faster than a speeding bullet

My latest purchase from the book sale rack at the library.



I also bought a hard cover edition of The Godfather and a paperback with the cover ripped off of a Stephen King collection that includes The Shawshank Redemption.
Ok, so I only donated 8 cents this time, but that was all the change I had, and besides just two weeks ago I donated a box full of books and about a half dozen movies on VHS, so if you believe in karma mine is still pretty good.

Thanks Melissa

MB received a birthday present from Melissa today, from the Japanese store in Las Vegas.



Stick ice, stationary, and a soap lollipop ... I'm keeping the stick ice for myself!

Friday

On a night when I have nothing.



I opened up a new bar of Dial soap.
I ran out of popcicles.
I sorted and folded clothes.
I halfway sort of watched an Italian movie.
I watched the last half hour of Big Brother 6.
I could go on like this forever, or at least until I sto

Perspective

Seven reasons why I've stopped pissing and moaning about the price of gas being over three dollars a gallon.
In no particular order ...

1. I have a place to live.
2. I have electricity.
3. I have running water.
4. I can flush my toilet anytime I want.
5. I have a refrigerator full of food.
6. I know where all of my relatives are.
7. I don't need a gun for protection.

What have I been doing today?

Well, let's see.



1. I tried to avoid eye contact with the two steps from being retarded woman at the Burger King today.
2. I sang along with the Byrds until I got hoarse.
3. I looked for the infamous baby boz picture, the one of me walking down the sidewalk with a look of glee in my eye and a load in my diaper.
4. I watched ten minutes of The Battle of the Network Reality Stars on Bravo.
5. I chatted about mouthwash and shampoo with RebelLeadyBoy and MooniePottie.
6. I went grocery shopping today and the most interesting thing I bought was a gallon bottle of white vinegar because MB said if you use it in your laundry it will make your clothes smell fresher. Is this another one of MB's laundry scams? I'm skeptical, what do you think?
7. I took out the trash, and did I ever tell you about the time when I was about 15 and I had to take out the trash at 7 in the morning, and I was too sleepy to get dressed, so I just rolled up the pant legs of my pajamas and put on a pair of cut-offs over them, and when I got outside I saw the two most beautiful girls I had ever seen in my life just as my pajama legs started unrolling down my legs.
8. I ate four apple cider donuts, which might have been a mistake, I'm not sure, I'll have to get back to you on that, but so far, so good.
9. I was made to feel like the John Ritter character in Problem Child, so what else is new.
10. I almost had a heart attack when MB snuck up from behind on me and asked me the name of the hurricane and where I was back in 1969 when that big ass hurricane that I was stuck in hit. Hurricane Camille right outside of Biloxi Mississippi on Keesler AFB, and back then all hurricanes were still named after women, and I've always wondered why they didn't name new strains of venereal diseases after women, well, no, not really, but I thought it might be a funny way to end this post, but I guess not.