I thought they'd never end

It's one of those days.
My back is still killing me to the point where I'm walking around the house looking like some latter day Quasimodo in search of his Esmerelda or his shoes.
And it's raining too.
And it's humid, like a zoo.
And a song by Little Feat just finished.
And a song by the Pogues and Sinead O'Conner just started.
And it's two thirty and I haven't even combed my hair.
And there is a need for cranberry juice.
And I had a dream last night about being in college and trying to get it on with a girl named, I don't know, let's call her Sophie, and people kept busting into our room looking for a party, and I mean geez, don't these doors lock, and then Sophie got all out of the mood, and she wanted to watch quiz shows on the black and white tv with rabbit ears that was sitting in the corner of the room on top of the milk crates that were used for storage.
And yeah, it's one of those days.
Play us on out of here Bruce.
Rosalita jump a little lighter
Senorita come sit by my fire
I just want to be your love, ain't no lie
Rosalita you're my stone desire ...

Ah, the French

Blind?



Or just some hipster french girl hooked on Godard, Belmondo, Gainsbourg, Birkin and Gauloises.

Kill the brain, kill the ghoul

Ten reasons why I'm not posting today

1. It's too hot.
2. My back hurts.
3. Zombies ate the post I had already written.
4. Zombies and I then watched The Night of the Living Dead on DVD.
5. Zombies rooted for the zombies.
6. I explained to the zombies that the movie was an allegory for the social unrest of the 60s.
7. Zombies looked bored.
8. Zombies cried at the end.
9. Zombies and I went out to the Dairy Queen for ice cream.
10. Zombies ate the high school girl who is working part time at the Dairy Queen for the summer.

Iargo Springs

Today I went for a walk around Iargo Springs, which is part of the Huron National Forest on the Au Sable River, about 15 miles from where I live.



You can see the rest of the pics here.

If Roy Scheider and William Devane had a boxing match, who would win?

Ok, I can't sleep.
I watched the last twenty minutes of Jaws II on the SciFi channel and kept slapping myself on the forehead trying to remember that Roy Scheider's name was Roy Scheider, and then I was going to watch the next movie on the SciFi channel, but it was another shark movie, and that's when I went to bed.
I tried to sleep, but nothing happened, so here I am again.
I was going to write the second part of my trip to MRI Land, but there wasn't really anything to it, except for the second part of the MRI I had to get two injections of some kind of watery stuff that had some kind of metallic stuff in it so it could highlight the MRI, or something like that.
Oh yeah, I had ear plugs in and after he gave me the second injection it sounded like he said there were only four or five more injections to go and that would be all, and that sort of freaked me out, because it's not that I hate needles, it's just that he was running out of places to stick me, but I guess I misunderstood him, because the second injection was the last injection, and the four or five other ones never happened, unless I passed out, and then he gave them to me.
I'll find out the results of the MRI on my next appointment with the neuro surgeon on June 17th, and just between you and me, I think he is going to recommend surgery, which is seriously ok with me, because I was ready for surgery three years ago when this whole problem started.

A Friday morning in MRI land

Got up at five thirty.
Took my time getting ready.
Left at six twenty five.
Got to the hospital at six thirty five.
Registered.
Went down to x-ray.
Signed in, sat down, and waited.
There were only two of us in the waiting room, another guy and me.
Short bald guy wearing a lab coat carrying a clipboard walks in walks up to the other guy and says ...
Mr (((Inaudible)))?
The guy says yeah.
The short bald guy wearing the lab coat and carrying a clipboard goes
It's time for your M(((inaudible)))I(((eye))).
The guy gets up and they head off to MRI land.
I thought to myself that I was the first scheduled M(((inaudible)))I(((eye))) for the day.
No biggie.
Forty five seconds another slightly taller non bald guy wearing a lab coat and carrying a clip board walks in, looks at me, and says ...
Mr. Sandler?
Then it hits me.
The guy who is getting my MRI is Mr. Sandler and I am Mr (((Inaudible)))
I tell the slightly taller non bald guy wearing a lab coat that I think that Mr Sandler has been mistakenly taken down to MRI land.
Slightly taller guy rushes out, I assume to rectify the error.
I hear a conversation down the hall from the vicinity of MRI land.
A minute later the short bald guy in the lab coat and carrying a clip board re-enters the waiting room looking and sounding all embarrassed and says ...
Boz???
I say yeah.
I get up and we make small talk about the mix-up as we walk down to MRI land.
To be continued ...

Magnetic Resonance I-owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

I think I'm in a leg phase.



MRI in the morning.
MRI at seven in the morning.
MRI at seven in the morning that was supposed to be in the afternoon.
So I guess I'll go to bed and toss and turn, and get the sweats, and wake up after about an hour and a half of sleep, and have heart burn, and a sinus headache, and a chill, oh yeah, I can't forget the chill, and I'll stumble into the bathroom and stub my toe, and the tooth brush will slip and gouge the inside of my mouth, and I'll probably swallow the wrong way and start coughing, and then I'll get sick to my stomach, but yeah, I'm cool with an MRI at seven in the morning.

Garota de Ipanema

Not the Girl From Ipanema, but only because she doesn't want to be.



Five minutes ...
Ten minutes ...
Twenty minutes ...

I guess that's it.

The fishnet phenomena of the mid 60s

Woman in fishnets with hooker purse.



Do you find it odd that when I was in High School forty years ago that teenage girls wore fishnet stockings? I mean 15, and 16, and 17 year old girls wore fishnet stockings. Ok, so they didn't carry hooker purses or wear hooker dresses, and really, these were just your normal average teenage girls, not the ones who allegedly had to have their stomachs pumped after every home basketball game, but hey, it was the 60s and the 60s were fab, and hip, and groovy, and gear, and I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about anymore, but I do know that teenage girls wore fishnet stockings, and they also wore brightly colored and patterned stockings, and while I'm on the subject of stockings and the girls that wore them when I was a teenager, when I was in 7th grade girls wore black stockings, and I remember when my newly married sister came to visit from New Jersey she was aghast that 12 and 13 year old girls were wearing black stockings, which I find kind of ironic, or that word that means something like ironic, because when my sister's daughter was 12 and 13, I bet my sister wished the only problem she had was her daughter wearing black stockings.

Boz, the squirrel humanitarian

I am not a squirrel killer.
Here is what happened.
There was a squirrel, see, that must have fallen out of a tree in my front yard, and I'm surprised that doesn't happen more often they way they jump around from branch to branch like some kind of cult of suicidal banzai maniacs.
Well, this squirrel was laying out in my front yard, and he wasn't moving too well, just sort of going around in circles, so I went out to see what the matter was and the squirrel was laying on it's stomach with it's hind legs obviously broken, or at least severely sprained and it was trying to pull itself to safety just using it's teeny tiny little front legs, and it really looked kind of funny sort of like the WWII homeless veterans who have lost their legs and hang around the downtown area on their little wheeled sleds and who have to pull themselves along using their hands, arghhhhhhhh, I'm not doing a very good job describing this, wait ... like the Eddie Murphy character at the start of the movie Trading Places, yeah, that's what the poor little broken bodied squirrel looked like, and when I said it looked kind of funny like a WWII homeless veteran, well, that was a misprint, I really don't think homeless people, be they veteran or non-veteran are in the least bit funny, unless of course they are wearing clown make-up, which would actually make them more scary than funny.
So anyway, there's this broken bodied little squirrel laying in my front yard, and it's obvious to me that no little squirrel ambulance full of little squirrel paramedics is going to come to his aid anytime soon. So, what could I do?
I'm a non-violent kind of guy, just putting it out of it's misery was out of the question, and how would I have done it anyway, a gun, ha, a rock to the head, ha, a lethal injection, ha ...
No, there was no way that I could kill it, so I did the next best thing, actually, I did the best thing, the humanitarian thing. I went to the shed and got a shovel, and sort of scooped it up, which wasn't all that easy to do because I don't think squirrels like to be scooped, so I scooped it up in the shovel and carried it over to a little wooded area across the street from my house, and I gently placed the squirrel down in the relative safety of the woods where I hoped he could die with a little peace and dignity.
So, does that make me a squirrel killer???

Libe Node Grils

A serious set of legs.



I don't know what it is but it feels like I've gotten about seventeen flu shots in my left butt cheek, I don't mean in my life, I mean all at once, about five minutes ago.

Tuesday is just like Monday only shorter

Drove up to Oscoda earlier today.
Had to go to Kmart to get MB some store brand Depends, and you get a 10% discount on Tuesday if you're over 50.

Why does everyone in front of me drive so slow?
And why doesn't the head of the driver of everyone in front of me go up higher than the head rest? I think what I am trying to say is why is everyone who drives in front of me so short, but I was trying to write it in a cool and pleasing manner.

And why doesn't my keyboard anticipate what I am going to type, and just go ahead and type it correctly. I think the spellcheck lobby has something to do with it.

So anyway, I stopped at Kmart and got the store brand Depends, and some Right Guard for me, and while waiting in line I saw that they had past due candy bars on sale for 25 cents a piece, so I got MB a Smore and a Rolo for myself, and I've already finished my Rolo, and it didn't really taste past due, well, maybe only a little, but still it only cost a quarter.

I stopped at the Speedway Mini-Mart intending to get gas, but all the pumps were taken, and that is saying a lot because they have about sixteen pumps, but it was lunch time, and I guess people like to get gas at lunch time, but I went inside anyway because they had two liter Coke on sale buy 3 and get one free, which made it come out to 75 cents a bottle, so I bought six and got 2 free, you know sorting of stocking up for the Memorial Day holiday, and everyone was buying make it yourself hot dogs, and they smelled so good, even with onions on them, but I didn't get any, I just got a 44 ounce fountain drink for 79 cents instead, but the dogs sure did smell good.

Stopped at the gas station that used to be Clark but is now Admiral and got gas. Now that gas is so high I try to trick myself into not getting upset by stopping at 20 dollars and trying to make myself believe that it's a full tank, and guess what, today it was, and further guess what, I saved a penny a gallon by getting my gas at the station that used to be a Clark but is now Admiral, so take that Speedway Mini-Mart.

Made one more stop up in Oscoda at the local Drug Store. They've got a dollar only section in there and I thought I'd try it out, and yeah, they had coffee for a buck a can, and since I don't drink coffee I really don't care what it tastes like so I bought a couple of cans for MB, I mean, her taste buds are pretty much shot anyway.

I guess that's it except for on the drive home I got stuck behind some old guy and his equally old wife doing 30 in a 55 mph zone, and as I passed them they were arguing back and forth, and I bet his wife was yelling at him for going too damn fast.

And now I'm home, and did you notice I put a link list in?

That's all right with me

Hey, Todd Browning's Freaks is on Turner Classic!

Not one of Todd Browning's Freaks



Not even a freak, well, not really, well, not even remotely.

When you've got nothing to say ...

Say it with pictures.

Monday or something

The FDA didn't approve the new disk replacement surgery.
So, I'm going to get a new MRI to see if my condition warrants waiting another year to see if the new surgery is approved, or whether it is prudent to just go ahead and do the spinal fusion procedure.

Prudent is a good word.

I'm listening to a really really really old Donovan CD.



It's good.

The bulb in one of my lamps is about to burn out. It was flickering about a half hour ago, but it's good now, but I bet when I turn it off it burns out, so I've got a new bulb ready just in case.

I am really bored.

I was going to pay some bills tonight, but I forgot.

Blogging, flogging, schlogging.

I chatted with Mrs. Martin Sheen today. She told me I'm not sick, but she thinks she's Mrs. Martin Sheen, so ...

The Benson 48 Marathon on TVLand in two weeks.

I guess that's it for now.

Saturday waiting for the neuro surgeon

Neuro surgeon in forty five minutes.
I wonder what wonders this wondrous visit will hold in store?
I should just go in there and smack him silly and tell him to HEAL ME!!!
But I won't.
But I will be wearing a short sleeve shirt today, kinda cool, kinda zippy, kinda withit.
I'm having another one of my sinus escapades.
There's a dog barking outside.
Someone just slammed a car door.
This morning the guy next door woke me up with his weed whacker.
I got all pissed off when I got a phone call this morning right after the weed whacker woke me up, but I was brought back down to earth when I found out it was one of my mother's cousins telling me that another cousin had just passed away. Those crazy 80 year olds, you never know what they'll do next.
The last of the birds that mock me has been chirping away non-stop for at least an hour, oh yeah, sure, now that I mention it, she stops.
There's a plane flying over head, one of those little private ones. There's a small airport about two miles from here, so I imagine that is where he is heading, and why did I refer to an airplane as a he?
My computer is making that grinding sound again.
The bird is chirping again.
I bet I have to get another MRI.
The dead skin from where I burnt myself a couple weeks ago is peeling like crazy.
I need a cough drop.
I just found the candles I was looking for last week when the power went out.
I think the short sleeve shirt I'm wearing today may just be a bit too cool, too zippy, too withit, and too LOUD!!!
I'm about to lose the toe nail on the toe next to the big toe on my left foot from when I was laying in bed a few weeks back and I had a muscle spasm and I kicked the wall ... hard.
The sun is shining today after a week or more of dreary, rainy, cold weather.
I like the weather on the 8's, but not as much as I used to.
I guess I should stop.
Wish me luck, and pray that the neuro surgeon doesn't go mental on me during my exam and cut off a couple of my limbs.

The year my parents had their problem

When I was a child I went to live with my aunt the summer my parents had their problem.
At first I slept in the utility room on a cot next to the hot water heater and furnace. It was a small space, but it was clean, and I had enough room.
One day my aunt asked me to help her clean the attic out. My aunt told me the attic would be my bedroom for the remainder of my stay.
After we finished moving everything out to the basement I noticed a hinged hatch way in the floor. My aunt opened the hatch and motioned for me to come and have a look. The hatch opened up into a four foot crawlspace between the first floor and the attic of the house.
It looked like a little miniature apartment.
I asked my aunt if I could make the crawlspace into my bedroom instead of the attic. She shook her head and laughed a little but she said she guessed it would be alright.
So with the help of about a half dozen extension cords, two lamps, a clock radio, a thirteen inch black and white television, a foot locker full of comic books and magazines, and god only knows how many blankets and pillows, this is how I spent my summer the year that my parents had their problem.

So, there you have it

Ok, I'm a little embarrassed about the last two posts I made, but I'm back on zoloft, and I've almost convinced myself that even after only three days I am beginning to feel the effects.

Sweet sweet surrender

Ok, I should go to bed now, right?
Nothing on television, right?
Nobody on IM, right?
I'm not in the mood to read, right?
I'm tired, right?
Morpheus ascending, right?
Morpheus descending, right?
I'm feeling kind of dizzy.
I'm feeling kind of whoozy, and I think I prefer the zy whoozy to the sy whoosy, but that's just me.
I'm feeling kind of stuffed up.
I'm feeling kind of jittery, yeah, really jittery.
Ok, let's dial that jittery down a notch. I don't want to get carried away, but I am feeling jittery, but not jittery jittery, at least not yet.
This is the kind of night where I want to keep my mind active, you know what I mean, don't you.
Forget that idle hands are the devil's workshop.
It's an idle mind that is the devil's ... playground.
You should see me right now.
I'm wildly gesturing with my hands, like some traffic cop on one of those british protectorates down in the Caribbean, and I can't stop ... I can't stop ... I can't stop ... gesturing.
See, I'm doing it again.
You see what I'm trying to do here, don't you?
I'm trying to type and type and type and type until I am completely exhausted and then I'll just slip the surly bonds of flight.
Goddamnit, I was gesturing so wildly that I knocked over the glass on my desk, and isn't that a creative way to spell goddamnit ... I think.
So yeah, I'm staring over at the bed, and it looks pretty inviting. I just wish that the covers were already pulled down, and the pillows were fluffed, and I didn't have to wait for the computer to shut down.
So, does anyone want to chat?
Does anyone want to play a game?
Does anyone want to slap some sense into me?
Does anyone want to ooobie doobie doobie doo?

Slipping and a sliding

I think I'd better call the doctor tomorrow and ask to be put back on zoloft.
My anxiety levels have been high at night for the last week, and tonight they have been exceptionally high, high to the point where I have been yelling at the little guy inside the computer, you know the little bastard I mean, don't you, yeah, the one who likes to fuck with your mind, oh yeah, but I'm not going to let the cocksucker get to me, and my apologies to any of you out there who might be cocksuckers, I mean no disrespect, and would cocksuckers be plural, or possessive, or plural possessive, see I can't even conjugate or whateverthat-gate is that deals with grammatical possessiveness.
So anyway, I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow and tell him to slip me some Z.
I mean, it was a noble experiment, trying to get off of it, but I'm feeling this tightness in my throat, and that's the first sign, the tightness, and I don't even want to think about the second, third, fourth, and fifth signs.
So, bright and early tomorrow morning I'm going to call Dr. Bobby Hill, not his real name, it's an inside joke, but yeah, tomorrow morning, I'm going to call him, and hopefully by tomorrow night Ziggy Stardust will be coursing through my bloodstream once again.

Une quizlette

1. Who was president, or prime minister, or chancellor on your 18th birthday?
2. Name three secondary characters from the Simpsons TV show you identify with?
3. If you were to lie to someone and tell them you saw a certain group or singer in concert which group or singer would you pick?
4. Would you drink a gallon of spoiled milk for a thousand dollars?
5. If there was a cause that you really believed in would you join a public nude protest rally in support of that cause?
6. Would you be a sperm or egg donor for a same sex couple who wanted to have a baby?
7. What's the worst gift you ever got for xmas?
8. If you could invite any 5 people to have dinner with you, past or present, famous or non famous, who would you invite?
9. How do you feel about Custer's Last Stand and the Battle of the Little Big Horn.
10. If Germany and Australia were to have a fist fight who would your root for?

Happy Mothra Day !!!

And this is why I love the internet

A series of related articles I found in the Detroit Free Press. Just read the articles in order.
Number One
Number Two
Number Three
Number Four

Bizzaro Drew Carey

I woke up this morning at six am and turned on the television and after surfing around for awhile I found a re-run of the Drew Carey Show on Fox 66 out of Flint and decided to watch it.
I used to kind of like the show the first couple of years it was on, but then I got a computer and television viewing went the way of New Cole ... New Coke.
So, I'm watching away, and after a few minutes I start noticing that everything is different, the tall skinny guy who wasn't named Waldo was no longer around, the fairly cute "gal friend" who even though she was a "gal friend" managed to have sex with just about everyone at least once or twice wasn't around, and Mimi was starting to look strangely attractive to me was no longer an outcast but part of the inner circle which means she too probably had sex once or twice with the fairly cute "gal friend" who was no longer around, and, and, and, and,
Oh yeah, and Drew had a hot pregnant girlfriend, well, not hot hot, but someone who was obviously to anyone with SIGHT too hot for Drew, and doesn't the thought of Drew Carey having sex with anything higher up on the food chain than his right hand just sort of want to make you stop and reconsider that maybe, just maybe, Dr Joseph Mengele's research into sterilization was a step in the right direct... well no, but you get my point.

TMI

My entire body is humming, vibrating like a tuning fork.
I can feel the tingles swoosh down from the top of my head to the tip of my toes and back up again.
Swooooooooooooooooooosh.
I don't know if I should just lay back and enjoy the buzz or call 911 and tell them I think that I need an ambulance.

Why did my grandparents name my father Dillard and other flights of fancy

Ok, so my grandparents named my father Dillard, but why?
My grandfather was married twice and had something like fourteen kids, nine or so with my grandmother, and my father was the youngest of six sons, and his five older brothers had mostly normal names, there was Haskell, and Monroe, and Everett who were my dad's half brothers, and there was also Ernest and Lawrence, and do you notice a trend here, yeah, the names are getting more common as they go along, I mean after Ernest and Lawrence you might expect something like William, or James, or John for my father, but no, my grandparents throw everybody a curve and name their youngest son Dillard, I mean what kind of WTF is that to lay on a poor unsuspecting kid, and thank god my parents, one of which was named Dillard, didn't name me Dillard, and yeah, when I was a kid my mom used to joke that she was going to name me Aloysius, at least I thought it was a joke until years later when she named her dog Aloysius, and really, if I would have had any choice in it I would have named myself Kent, like the cigarette, well, when I was four years old I would have picked Kent, like the cigarette, and wouldn't that also have been a fine name for a Native American, Kent Like The Cigarette, but I'm not four years old anymore, and I never was a Native American, and I've really been on a Native American kick since I've started reading The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven haven't I, so I learned to live with Ken, until the internet came along and I became Boz, and I wonder what kind of internet name my father would have picked for himself had he lived to experience the wonders of said internet, because actually this post is supposed to be all about him and why my grandparents named him Dillard, and luckily he had many nicknames, like Pickles, and Pick, and Dill, and yeah, Dill was the name of the sickly little bespectacled kid who Jem and Scout befriended in To Kill a Mockingbird, and yeah, that same Dill was based on the real life Truman Capote, who was a childhood friend of Harper Lee, who of course wrote To Kill a Mockingbird, and isn't it odd that my father was also a sickly, but non bespectacled kid, who was so sickly that when my grandparents moved from Tennessee to Michigan when my dad was about seven years old, my dad made the entire train ride resting on a white satin pillow, and too bad Harper Lee didn't know my dad because then he might have grown up and wrote Breakfast At Tiffany's and In Cold Blood, tra la la, tra la la.
So, why did my grandparents name by father Dillard?
It seems that back then it was a common practice to give your children the last name of a politician or general as a first name, and I guess there was a Confederate general in the Civil War named General Dillard, but hell, there was a General Lee, and a General Jackson, and a bunch of other generals with a lot cooler last name than Dillard, and I guess that's enough proof reading, so what do you think?

My crazy cousins

I had one cousin who never knew he was adopted.

I had another cousin who shot himself in the foot in Vietnam so they wouldn't send him back into combat, they sent him back anyway, and he got shot again, this time by the bad guys, and now he is the president of some postal union somewhere in the suburbs outside of Detroit.

I had another cousin who just a couple of months after she got her drivers license had an accident killing her best friend. My cousin spent some time in the hospital and after that she refused to drive, then she became anorexic, then she got married three times, then she found jesus and now she is running a youth camp, whatever the hell that is, down in North Carolina.

I had another cousin who joined the army, and was then kicked out of the army for not being able to conform, who claimed he lived in a cave on the California coast with some ex Manson Family members, who once borrowed twenty dollars from me and never paid me back, who worked every con in the book until he tried to work a con on a guy who knew how to swing a mean two by four, and is now living in a nursing home somewhere out west and wondering why everyone has turned their back on him.

And I don't know why I keep saying I had another cousin, because I still have them. Well, except for ...

I had another cousin, a drunk, one of the lovable kind, who died in his basement all alone, too drunk to do anything about it.

It's raining now, or maybe it's just Carlotta Monti with a garden hose, either way I'm going to try to get some sleep.
Kiss, kiss, take care.

The Andy Griffith Show

When I was in fifth grade our school took a poll among all the classes to choose the most popular show on television.
The Andy Griffith Show was the hands down winner, and I think the student council drafted a letter and sent it out to Hollywood thanking the producers for making such a wonderful show.
Of course this was before Barney left for Raleigh and a job with the FBI and Gomer joined the marines, married Rock Hudson, and made us lose the war in Vietnam.
This was before Floyd had a stroke, and before Aunt Bee married that old guy and moved away, and before Emmett got his fix-it shop, and before Howard Sprague caught the world's biggest catfish, and before they started filming the show in color, and before Jack Nicholson was arrested for being different, and before anyone noticed that there weren't any black people in Mayberry, and probably none in Mt. Pilot either, and before Opie joined a rock and roll band, grew a wispy little mustache, and started neglecting his schoolwork thus proving that Barney was right all along about bud nipping, and did you ever notice what a self righteous piece of crap Andy really was???
I want to change my vote to Leave it to Beaver.

No sky, no diamonds

There was a girl the same age as me named Lucy who grew up down the street from me.
There were a lot of girls and guys the same age as me who grew up down the street from me, we were right smack dab in the middle of the baby boom.
On my street there must have been at least twenty of us who graduated the same year from high school.
Anyway, back to Lucy. She was a tall girl, not unattractive, of Italian descent, who because of her height always seemed to be stooped over. I don't know if she was stooped over in an attempt to hide her height, or because if she didn't stoop over she couldn't hear what anyone was saying to her, and trust me, that is a real possibility, because it used to happen to me, the being tall and having to stoop over to hear people part.
Lucy and I were never friends growing up, she lived way down on the other end of the street and she was a girl and all. I think we had some classes together in grade school so we must have talked or at least spoke to each other, but that was it. By the time we reached junior high and then high school we had no classes together and no contact whatsoever.
Ok, now this is the strange part.
You know when you graduate from high school you paint all sorts of stuff all over your car and drive around honking the horn? Well, ok, I didn't do it, because I was way too tragically hip, but 98.9% of the rest of the graduating class did.
So yeah, Lucy did it too. You know the usual things ...
Sixty-eight is great
Free at last
Look out world
and
KVC
K-V-C???
KVC were my initials!
I mean KVC???
Is there anything else that could be an abbreviation for???
Ok, maybe Kill the Viet Cong, but ???
Did I miss something here?
Or am I reading too much into something again???
Or Maybe I misread it and it was KFC and she just liked chicken?
Who knows.
Who cares.
Well, I must care, because this has been bothering me for 38 years. So if any of you know a tall Italian woman who is kind of stooped over would you go ask her WTF for me?

A Scurvey

What's worse?
1. Being ignored or being yelled at?
2. Eye boogers or nose boogers?
3. Finding blood on your kleenix or finding blood on your charmin?
4. Not being able to fall asleep or not being able to wake up?
5. Finding a dead pet or finding a dying pet?
6. Being bombarded by advertisements for something you hate or being bombarded by advertisements for something you like?
7. No food in the fridge or inedible food in the fridge?
8. The Kennedy's or the Bush's?
9. Mental anguish or physical anguish?
10. You or me?

Zonkboard highlights from me on the rw ... bs

One of our most popular features over on the rw ... bs is our zonkboard.
In the last two years there have been slightly more than 90,000 comments.
The following is a sampling of my comments from the last twenty four hours.

boz: this bedwetting chat has really struck a chord with Jonnie, I have a feeling we are about to hear some suppressed memory stories in a minute or two

boz: I bought some Faygo Fruit Punch last week, I drank so much it made me sick

boz: next time I'll mix it with blood so it won't be as sweet

boz: I'll have to order some more "blood of innocents"

boz: I think I am going to start spiking my hair

boz: I wish I had some dippity do

boz: Jonnie, do you want to open an adult store on Ebay with belle and me?

boz: both urine and blood soaked sheets

boz: belle is all pissed off because she could be making a fortune off the stuff she donated to Goodwill

boz: Jonnie I think your Pirate Salute pics would be a hit with the gay community

boz: you are making no sense

boz: no, wait, I'm making no sense

boz: belle takes a vacuum cleaner to all her interviews

boz: and a bazooka

boz: I feel like vacuuming

boz: Will they let Sandra bring her vacuum with her?

boz: Jonnie, have you ever had sex with a vacuum cleaner?

boz: never put unusual strain on your back trying to reach your penis with your mouth. It's not worth the risk!

boz: plus it gives you more free time to masturbate

A prayer to the gods to quit haunting my soul

I just want to wash my shirts.
I just want to match my socks.
I just want to tap dance on the head of a pin.
I just want to make you shake your head and smile a bit as you walk away.
Go ahead and empty out my bags.
There really isn't nothing there.

Today Ole!!!

I just woke up, and I'm cranky, and I don't feel like wearing my glasses, and all I feel like doing is eating tin foil wrapped chocolate easter eggs right out of the freezer, and then throwing the tin foil on the floor.
Or maybe I'll just start eating the chocolate easter eggs right out of the freezer with the tin foil still on, yeah, what the fuck do you think about that?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
No spell check for you!!!

Third year is a charm

Ok, so I set up an appointment to see the neuro-surgeon for Saturday the 20th, and what kind of doctor has appointments on Saturday ...
Anyway, I had lost his office number so I had to check the online yellow pages for Saginaw, and in his little yellow page ad it said that he had over 50 years of experience ...
Over 50 years of experience would make him 80 something, and do I really want someone who is 80 something operating on my spine. I mean MB is 80 something and I don't even let her answer the phone.
So yeah, he is supposed to be one of the best there is. So I guess I'll go see him on the 20th, because he told me last year that the new procedure that he wants to do, the replacing of the 2 damaged disks with artificial disks is supposed to be approved by the FDA by July of 2006, but then again, I don't know, because I've been checking online and no one says anything about cervical spine replacement surgery being approved in the US by July ...
So yeah, I don't know.
Maybe I'll just get my spine removed and become
Boz, the Jelly Man!!!

Book Chat

I'm half asleep, and I've been reading a book I got off the for sale shelf at the library, and I actually did stick a dollar in the donation box this time, because people were looking and I'm only a creep when I can get away with it.
Anyway, the book, a novel, is titled The Long Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight In Heaven, and it was written by a Native American author named Sherman Something Or Other, well, Something Or Other wasn't his last name, it's not one of those Native American Talks To The Wind type of last name, I just can't remember what Sherman's last name is. Ok, I just looked, his name is Sherman Alexie, and don't you just love how politically correct I am, and that also has to do with me only being a creep when I can get away with it.
So, the book is titled The Long Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight In Heaven and it is written by Sherman Talks To The Wind, ha, I made a joke, I do that once in awhile. The book is titled The Long Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight In Heaven by Sherman Alexie, and that's a name a person of any race, color, or creed can be proud of, isn't it.
The book, the book, the book, yeah the book, is about a guy named Victor who ...
Ok, I just started reading the back cover of the book, and it really isn't a novel, it's a collection of loosely related short stories about a guy named Victor who ...
Hold on a second, let me read the rest of the back cover.
Hey, this loosely related collection of short stories titled The Long Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight In Heaven and written by Alexie Sherman, make that Sherman Alexie was the basis for the film Smoke Signals. I saw Smoke Signals, I don't remember a lot about it, but I did see it. It was about this guy named Victor who ...
Read the book, rent the movie, whatever.
I did say I was half asleep, didn't I?
It's seriously good, seriously.
I wonder if it would be ok if I started referring to Native Americans as NatAms?
It would make it so much easier for me.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch

I'm going to let my hair grow until it gets in my way.



Or until David Crosby gets the flu at Christmas.

My blue period

Mars Needs Women

I'm procrastinating a bit today.
Today is the day I am going to mow the lawn.
Yeah, big deal, right?
Well, yeah, it is, because I haven't mowed the lawn in two years.
Yeah, the back problem, the two deteriorating discs in my neck.
I'm a little bit scared, and I'm a whole lot nervous, and that's why I'm procrastinating, I don't know if I can do it.
No, it's not a big a deal as waiting to see if you've been accepted to grad school, or if you got the new job, but it is a big deal to me.
I don't particularly like mowing the lawn, but it is sort of emasculating knowing that you can't. It's just something that you have to prove to yourself that you can do, and then you can slough it off and hire the kid next door to do it if you want.
It's a lot like the old guy who has to sit in the passenger seat while his wife wheels the Crown Vic around town. Have you ever noticed the look in his eyes? It looks like he's had his balls cut off.
But anyway, yeah, that's how I feel about that.

Short and Screeeeeeeeech

This is one of those days where it seems like it's Friday, except that I know that it's Thursday, but it's actually Wednesday.

It must be post burn stress syndrome.

The kid next door, who mowed my lawn last year, just knocked at the door, I'm assuming he was going to ask me if I wanted him to mow my lawn again this year. I'm only assuming that he was going to ask me if I wanted him to mow my lawn again this year because I didn't answer the door, and I didn't answer the door, because I didn't want to crush his hopes and dreams of financial prosperity by telling him that I was going to try to mow my lawn myself this year.
In many respects I really am a sensitive person.

burnt boz

I am in great pain

2nd degree burns on my thumb and first two fingers.





A word of advice. If you are heating something up on the stove and one of the burner grill thingies slips out of place and is about to fall on the floor. Do not try to catch it. Let it fall.

I'm the guy who got kicked out of the movies for refusing to stand up during the playing of the national anthem

I just retired the american flag that has been on continuous display in my front yard since 9-11. I knew it was in bad shape, but I really couldn't tell how ripped and frayed it was until I took a real close look at it.
I guess when I go to the city hall today to pay my water bill I'll just take the flag along with me and put it in the drop box sponsored by the VFW and let them dispose of it in the proper manner. It's the least I can do.
I don't think I'll be putting another flag up either, and no, I'm no super patriot, or staunch conservative, or jaded liberal, so don't go looking for any hidden political message in any of my actions.

Who are those guys?

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, since I've had the blues, about what the blues actually are.
I'm not really sad, or unhappy, or depressed.
No, like I said, I've been thinking, and I think the blues are mostly just feeling sorry for yourself.
Listen to any blues song and tell me you don't agree.
Yeah, I'm sure that's it.

I was watching Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid just a few minutes ago, and of course I was reminded of the first time I saw it back when I was 19 and going to Tech School in the Air Force down in Mississippi, and a couple of the guys asked me to go see it with them at one of the base theaters. I guess it was just a spur of the moment thing. It was always a spur of the moment thing where I was concerned back in Mississippi. If I were around it was, hey Boz let's go to the show, or go to town, or whatever. I was never included if it was planned, You know, if they planned to go to the show, or to town, or whatever ...
I guess what I am trying to say is I was always included if they couldn't get anyone else to go, or if plans fell through, you know a last second thing, a last resort.
It's always been that way with me, as a kid, as an adult, with friends, with family, with anyone.
I'm convenient!!!
Yeah, I'm convenient!!!
Damn, it's like a light bulb just went off in my head.
I'm convenient!!!
Convenient!!!
I still am.
Convenient.

The blues? Yep, still got 'em

I think the best way to describe the blues I have is:
You know when you watch a really bad movie and say to yourself, well, that's two hours of my life that I'll never get back?
I guess that's how I feel when I wake up in the morning.
Well, that's another day in my life that I'll never get back.