3:18

It is way too late for me to be awake ... strike that.
It is way too late for anyone to be awake ... fuck that.
It is a far far way far better thing that I have ever done before.
Bullshit.
Sorry, I got distracted.
I think you owe me an apology, or ten dollars.
I hear noises.
I am going to investigate.
In bed.
Under the covers.
With four pillows over my head.
With my hands over my ears.
Singing lalalalalalala, if I can't hear you, you can't be there, lalalalalalalalala.
Balls.

Don't rock the boz, let the boz rock you.

I found this widget via Death to Simpleton, and I've always wanted to use the word via in a post, so I guess I have.

Remix

My eyes feel like they are about to fall out of their sockets.

What I just said.

Canned Chili, a typical email from me, except in the email I spelled chili with two l's.

You should try Campbell's canned chili. It is really good, and you don't even need a can opener. I got the "firehouse" chili, and it was really "HOT" but with chili "HOT" is good. I had a little bit of leftover tomato soup and I added that to the chili, which is a good tip if you want the chilli to streeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch for two people.
I bought another new digital camera today, what am I crazy or something, and this is a good one, not one of those you see in the drugstore for $19.99.
I went to the St Vincent DePaul thrift store today, and bought two shirts, what has gotten into me, I can't stop spending money ... I also bought one of those plastic tubes you put over your shower rod to make it more decorative, it was burgundy, and only cost a dime, oh yeah, I bought a new shower curtain from the evil empire yesterday on clearance for four bucks, it is also burgundy with a bamboo theme.
Bambooooooooooooooooooooo
Bambooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
bambo
This should be a blog post and not an email.
Since I didn't use your name, per our legal agreement, I can blog post this and no one will be the wiser ... hmpppph!
And why don't you want me to use your name anyway?
It's because of your relationship with Phil Spector, isn't it.

Where are the pizza goddesses of my dreams, and do they have my cell phone number?

Things I have to do today even if it is only 5:42 am.
1. Go to the gym.
2. Pick up a prescription and use the two dollar off birthday coupon on something I totally don't need before it expires, or maybe before I expire.
3. Get a pizza because it's SQUARE TUESDAY, or maybe not, because really, I am so over pizza unless it is served by nubile and naked pizza goddesses.
4. Take a shower, which I do quite regularly, unless I am too tired, or too clean already.
5. Change the shoelaces in my sneakers to shorter laces because the current longer laces tend to make me trip, stumble, and fall when I step on them while walking, and/or chewing gum.
6. Buy something, anything, I'm seriously spend jonesing, but I don't need anything, not even underwear ... I NEED TO SPEND TO VALIDATE MY EXISTENCE!!!
7. Ok, this isn't something I have to do, but I would like to point out that my brother in law, my niece, and my nephew all went out on strike yesterday because they work for GM which is the grand daddy of all evil empires, but the pay and the benefits are good, and they have a great employee discount which even extends to brothers in laws, which I am one of, and I often take advantage of when I purchase new vehicles, and how convoluted is this sentence getting, but it's ok, because I get to share on the employee discount for that too.
8. Take a nap, right now, or at least after I finish 8, 9, and 10, which hopefully will be soon Betty, real soon.
9. Find out who Betty is.
10. Hydrate until I leak, or take a leak, or take many leaks, or many many leaks, and where are the pizza goddesses of my dreams when I really need them.

Hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carry.

I took the generic Nyquil at about six thirty, and I went to bed, but I didn't go to sleep, so after about five minutes, I got up, and got dressed, and decided to go to the gym anyway. I guess the generic Nyquil had the opposite effect on me tonight, instead of making me drowsy it wound me up, so yeah, I went to the gym, and on the way to the gym, which is only a mile from where I live, a police car pulled in behind me, and you know, I was like impaired, because of the GN, which is like 20% alcohol, and 80% unknown mind altering substance, and I was impaired, and the police were following me, and the speed limit was 25 mph, but to be on the safe side I set the cruise control to 14.5, which is almost exactly half of 25 if your mind is impaired and not thinking correctly, but the police car ignored me, and I pulled into the parking lot of the gym, and there was only one car in the parking lot, and that had to be from the guy on duty in the gym, and it was, but there was also a couple of bikes in the bike rack, and they were from a couple of kids playing basketball on the first floor, and I made a mental note to hawk a couple of loogies on them when I was walking on the track on the second floor, but I forgot about it almost as soon as I thought of it, and I did two sets of 100 ab crunches, and I walked about three miles on the track in between the two sets of ab crunches, and I listened to my mp3 player while I walked, and I can't remember any of the songs that played, and seriously, I really can't remember any of them, but I sang along with most of them, but that was probably the GN singing because I never sing along with the music while I am walking, and that's a lie, because I always sing along, and sometimes even sway along with the music while I am walking, and when I finished walking, I got back in my car in the parking lot, and the guy on duty was sweeping leaves out of the gutters, and I thought that was odd, and I hoped he didn't ask me to help him, and he didn't, but he did say to "have a good'un" and I assured him that I would, then I drove home with the windows down, and no cops followed me, and I saw some wild turkeys getting ready to roost, and then I got home, and drank some water, then took a shower, but I didn't shave, I'll do that in the morning, or the afternoon, or might just wait till Tuesday, and isn't till Tuesday the name of a band from the 80's?
But yeah, I'm done for the night, and I am still slightly impaired from the NG, and NG is my abbreviation for generic Nyquil, but you probably realized that, or didn't care, and fuck you if you didn't care, and I think I going to have a glass of diet coke, and pose semi-naked in front of the mirror in my bedroom.

Waking up to a blogroll in the morning.

I think I am going to add some more blog links after my generic Nyquil induced coma is finished with, sometime around three in the morning.
Please wait with bated breath to see who the lucky ones will be, and mourn the death of the ones that I add.

Compare to Nyquil

Ok, I'm pretty sure that it's my sinus again, and seriously, I should have caught on to it by now, I mean, it happens this time every year, with the pollen, and whatever, and stuff.
So, I'm going to pass on the gym today, and I'm really going to miss the sit-up machine, and just take some generic Nyquil and go to bed, and probably sleep till I feel like I have died.
Lif is weird sometimes, isn't it, and so is life.

Magnets suck.

It's lock jaw. I'm sure that it's lock jaw.
When does the madness start?

Is this end of Rico?

Ok, now I'm getting worried.
It feels like someone just took a knife, a knife just a bit smaller than a cleaver, and a knife that is really sharp, and dissected my brain 60% slash 40%, and I'm slowly losing my motor skills, and thank god for spell check, and now ...
and what the fuck does 60% slash 40% mean???
And I'm seeing a kaleidoscope of colors, no I'm not, it's my life, it's racing right smack dab in front of my eyes, and I just had a vision of Fred Sanford, and he was telling to settle down, and take deep breaths, and not to worry, and not to trust Rollo.
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Of spelled backwards is fo, and is it spelled or spelt?

My stomach is making all sorts of gurgling noises and this can't be a good thing,
I mean, it's a beautiful day, and I'd like to go out, but the gurgles are telling me not to chance it.
I mean, I already did go out once today, and I had to make an emergency turn around even before I got out to the garage.
Fuck it, I'm going to take a nap.

Just another Flixn ...

Where I discuss the meaning of life, and feet, and my college years, and donkey basketball, and the color green, and urban slang, and my affair with Pearl S. Buck, and redrum, and women's soccer, and Pilate's, and vanilla pudding.



The end

I hate Friday when it seems like Monday.

I'm pissed, well, about as pissed as I get, which honestly isn't very pissed at all, so maybe upset would be a better way to describe what I am feeling right now.
I got a haircut today, and a beard trim, I always get my beard trimmed when I get my haircut, so anyway, I got a haircut and a beard trim, and like usual ...
NO, not as usual, nothing was as usual today when I got my haircut and beard trimmed today. The barber, the rat bastard, fucked up my beard royally. I mean seriously, I look like Billy Bob Thorton a week after Angelina threw his ass to the curb. It sucks, it really sucks, and I even tipped the bastard too!!!
I mean, he usually does a really good job, so I didn't even check the mirror before I walked out, but when I was combing my hair in the car, because you always have to comb your hair in the car after a haircut or you'll look like 1950's Man, and nobody ever wanted to look like 1950's Man, not even in the 1950's, so, I was combing my hair, actually, I was brushing my hair, but I don't want to go into that right now, so I was brushing my hair, and GODDAMN my beard looked terrible, it was uneven, and scraggly, and too long in some places, and too short in other places, and non-existant in still other places.
So I guess what I'll have to do is try to even it up myself, and like that really has a chance of working out, or I can shave it off and start all over again, which yeah, I think I'll do because it will only take a week or so for my beard to become bozilicious once again.

I'm not a middle aged Asian lady, but sometimes ...

I love stuff.



And my heel hurts from too much walking on the indoor track at the Community Center today, and the 110 ab crunches probably didn't help, and the thirty cardio reps, well, that could have been ten too many, but other than that I feel great, except my breath smells like tuna fish, but that's probably because I just ate some tuna fish, but other than that I feel great, but still a little hungry, and yeah, I'm probably going to get a haircut tomorrow, after my workout at the Community Center, and I might even wear my new customized Boz t-shirt, which I got for free except for the four and a half dollar shipping and handling, which is a small price to pay for t-shirt immortality, baby!!!

Twats and Bazooms

Twats is rapidly catching up to bazooms as my top keyword search, and this intrigued me, so I did a Google image search for "twats and bazooms" and here are some of the more interesting results.
Hit it Riddle!!!






Eh, they can't all be Pulitzer worthy.

If you can parallel park the world is your oyster.

The year I learned to drive ...
There was a riot in Detroit



And I dreamt about girls that looked like this when they were asleep when I was asleep.

And the city tore up the street that I lived on.

And I stole a STOP sign.

And I almost flunked out of high school.

And I smoked cigarettes.

And I cursed the man.

Fuck you man!!!

If you've lost count this is where we left off.

I'm really tired, and I should really go to bed, and I really should find another word to use in the place of really, because I mean REALLY!
Anyway, the generic Nyquil has really (doh) done a number on me.
I was trying to watch a movie, an Argentinian movie, on HBO, but it was a comedy, sort of, and sort of comedies are kind of hard to keep up with when you're generic Nyquilified, and there are subtitles, but don't get me wrong, I prefer subtitles to dubbing, just not when my powers of concentration are impaired do to the hour and the generic Nyquil, and I was just distracted by Nancy Sinatra Jr singing These Boots Were Made For Walking, and I don't know why I brought that up, it's just that I've been staring blankly at the monitor for about ten minutes and I figured I should type something, and the Nancy Sinatra Jr thing just popped into my mind, because truthfully I just made that part up about being distracted by the Nancy Sinatra Jr song These Boots Are Made For Walking, I actually heard that song this afternoon while in the car on a CD that I burnt for myself of nothing but Nancy Sinatra Jr songs of which These Boots Were Made For Walking was one of, and I could tell you all kinds of stories about the English band that used to play at the enlisted men's club when I was stationed on Crete, the English band with the leggy female back-up singer who actually never sang, but I'll tell you what she did do, what she did do was whenever the English band played These Boots Were Made For Walking, the leggy back-up singer who never actually sang, and the rumor going around is that she was a prostitute, but so what, and anyway whenever the English band played TBAMFW the leggy back-up singer would take center stage, and while wearing a shimmery silver mini dress and knee high boots, she would start doing a series of high leg kicks during the instrumental break in the middle of the song, which would drive most of the young, drunk, and horny enlisted men crazy, and then there was that one time when Duck Farwig, who was very drunk, but when was he not very drunk, but yeah, the very drunk Duck Farwig moved his chair right up to the edge of the stage where he claimed that he got a perfect view of the leggy back-up singers bush, and yeah back then women had bushes because Lady Bics and Brazilian wax jobs hadn't been invented yet, but Duck Farwig might have been full of shit, and beer, and hormones, and damn, prostitute or not, the leggy back-up singer was smoking hot, with her mini-dress, and her boots, and blonde hair, and did I mention her blonde hair earlier, doesn't matter, and I guess that's it, so I think I'm going to take another shot of generic Nyquil and pretend I'm a drunk and horny 19 year old enlisted man, and I wonder whatever happened to Duck Farwig and the leggy back-up singer who never actually sang.

I dreamt that I adopted Simpleton, and it was the death of us all.

Um, ok, remember when I told you I was sick as a dog, or like a dog, or because of a dog, the other day, the other day being either yesterday or today?
Well, I wasn't really sick, sick in the way I thought I was sick, it was just my sinus acting up again, and I don't know why it always takes me a few days to realize that the sick that I feel is caused by my sinus, which I sometimes proudly refer to as the worst sinus my doctor has ever seen, if one can actually see a sinus (sinii?)
So, when it finally hit me, like a shiv in the spinal cord, that it was my sinus, and not the plague ... 2007 style, (damn I can't find the "l" on my keyboard, I keep typing "k" by mistake, and maybe the "l" key is next to the "any" key of tech support lore, but I'm tangentisizing, aren't I?)
So, when it finally hit me that it was my sinus, and after the requisite forehead slap (DOH!!!) of recognition, I took a shot of generic Nyquil and slept the sleep of the dead for about two hours, and then I woke the wake of the alive, took a shower, had a half a chicken sandwich and a diet soda, and here I am, grogged but not broken, shaken but not stirred, l-less but not hekpkess, lost in a sea of Nyquility ... generic style.
The end but not the finish, so I guess I am done without making a point, again.

Ok, is Ziggy the dad or is Bob the dad?

So, I was listening to my new favorite sweetest song I have ever heard in my life, Daddy's Gone by Toots and the Maytals, and did I mention that it was about a quarter after five this evening when I was listening to mnfssihehiml, and sudddenly (suddenly, like a flash in the night ...) I started to fall asleep, and you know those dreams you have when you're not quite asleep but still not quite awake, the kind that seem really real to the real cubed, well, I was having one of those while Toots and the Guys were singing, and I had planned on telling you all about it, but after uploading Daddy's Gone, and then going to the bathroom, and getting a can of diet Cherry Pepsi, and not being able to find the straws, the straws that are always on the bar in the kitchen, I mean, because who can drinkout of a can without a straw, well, I can't anyways-s-s-s-s, and then I found the straws, and they were on the bar in the kitchen where they always are, and I don't know, my mind was probably a million miles away, and that's probably why I couldn't find the straws at first, but did eventually, and because of all that I forgot what my not quite asleep but yet not quite awake dream was, and if you really want to hear Daddy's Gone by Toots and the Maytals, you can try here ...
Or here ...
Or here ...
Or even here ...
And if any of you have ever had one of those not quite asleep but not quite awake dreams that you can REMEMBER, let me know.

Toots & the Maytals

Hey, let's all go down to the video blog store and make a video blog post

So ...

Me at Iargo, pronounced eye-r-go, Springs, like I told you I was going to do, and I'm a keeper of my word if it doesn't involve too much on my part.
It was warm, and yes, I look very spring-like.
And I guess that's it, except for the fact that I am sick as a dog tonight, and have been all day, well, most of the day, and I'm still blaming the dark chocolate that I ate last night, and I guess that's really it now, but, oh, does anyone watch Weeds on Showtime, and if you do, and if you were, or are, a lesbian, or if you were a guy who could be a lesbian for a day, would you have a lesbian crush on Mary-Louise Parker, and seriously, chicks with hyphenated names really turn me on, except for the ugly ones, or the real serious ones who just want to talk about world hunger.

Don't even think about it.

Ok, it's five in the morning, and my eyes hurt, and I'm feeling a little dizzy, and I've been up all night watching an Argentinian mini=series on HBO on Demand, and I've run to the bathroom a few times, and I had a diet Pepsi about two hours ago, but that's not a problem because it was decaf, and I've got things to do tomorrow, I mean today, and see how the lack of sleep has made me forget what day it is, and yeah, I have things to do today, like SLEEP, and go to the gym, and spend extra time because of the dark chocolate easter bunny that I ate, that might have given me diarrhea with two r's, and it's supposed to be a beautiful day, so I might go walk down the stairs at Iargo Springs, and I might walk back up the stairs at Iargo Springs, or then again, I might just pitch a tent and live at the bottom of the stairs at Iargo Springs for the rest of my life, but only if I could get Burger King to deliver, and no I don't eat at Burger King as much as you think I do, unless you think I eat there every day, and I'm running out of words, and commas, and my hands are starting to feel funny, and I hope I don't have to go back to the bathroom again, but my stomach just made that gurgling sound, so who knows ...
And they'll be pictures and a quiz sometime today unless I die in my sleep, but I'd have to sleep first for that to happen, so you figure it out, because I'm going to bed, and dream about the hard nipples of the Argentinian babe in the mini-series that I've been watching on HBO on Demand, but I think I might puke first, but yeah, she had some fine nips.

My commas can lick your commas with their interabang tied behind their backs.

Ok, I was going to make this a one of those things where I make a lot of similar posts, you know, sort of like a short story but different, but I got bored with it really quick, bored and a bad case of diarrhea, and is that two r's or two h's in diarrhea(?), and I guess spellcheck will answer that soon enough ...
And yeah, it was two r's, so I'm good to go, and I think that dark chocolate may have had something to do with the diaRRhea, but that's only speculation on my part, and oh yeah, before I forget ...
Fuck OJ, and Al, and the late Johnny Cochoran(sic), and F Lee Bailey, and the white Bronco, and the glove that didn't fit, but actually did, except that someone scrunched his hand up real good so that it wouldn't fit, and Greta Van Sustern(sic, sic, sic, sic), who just might be the ugliest lawyer turned commentator in the history of the world, and what the fuck was she thinking with the plastic surgery, because I mean, you can't make a silk purse out of a cow's ass, and my god, she is one ugly woman, and the fact that she talks out of the side of her mouth doesn't help, and I wouldn't fuck her with a ten foot pole, or my dick, or your dick, or if you don't have a dick, your strap-on, and on, and on, and on, and on.

Dark Chocolate meet the Stones, and be polite.

Bear with me a minute as I finish off this 8 ounce dark chocolate Russell Stover easter bunny.

I mean, sometimes you just have to tell your diet to go fuck itself, and tonight is one of those nights.

I think I just ate a piece of tin foil. It wasn't bad, just slightly metallic.

Seriously, I am devouring the bunny.

So, what was I going to write about tonight?

Besides dark chocolate.

And Russell, the brother that Bill Cosby slept with.

And Stover.

And tin foil.

And the Rolling Stones.

Yes, that's it, the Rolling Stones ... and how I had a chance to see them in concert in Detroit in 1964 at the Olympia Stadium, yeah, that Olympia Stadium, the place where the Red Wings and the Pistons played, and where Dick the Bruiser used to beat the shit out of Bobo Brazil, and where Joe Louis fought Two Ton Tony Galento or maybe it was one of the other bums from the Bum of the Month Club.

Ok, I didn't actually have a chance to see the Stones in 64, but then again I did have a chance to see them, but I was only 13, or maybe 14, and I had no way of getting there, and even if I did have a way of getting there, I didn't have the three or four dollars for a ticket, but really, if I did have a way to get there, and if I had the three or four dollars I could have totally seen them, and I probably could have seen them from the front row, or at least the second row, because they only sold about 250 tickets, which left about 14,750 empty seats, and about now, you're saying ...

What the Fuck!!!

And I'm replying, well yeah, it was 1964, and the Stones were just another band riding in on the coat tails of the Beatles and the British Invasion, playing recycled r&b hits from the 50's, and not really doing that very good, and I bet Freddie and the Dreamers, or the Dave Clark Five, or Herman's Hermits would have sold at least 10,000 tickets each at the Olympia, and the Stones, well, the Stones and their shitty r&b cover songs, well, it just wasn't their time, because their time was the summer of 1965 after Satisfaction, after Get Off of My Cloud, and after some other top five hit that I can't remember the name of, well, that was their time, the summer of 65 was their time, when they came back to Detroit, and sold out Cobo Hall for a bazillion consecutive nights, or maybe it was Tiger Stadium for a month of Sundays, or quite possibly it could have been Hell for Eternity, but you see, it was 1965, and that was their time.

The phone call - part 1.

"Hello Al? This is OJ pick up, pick up, pick up. C'mon Al, I know you're there, pick up, goddamnit!"

My stomach growls at the mere thought of you.

A couple of pictures I took as the sun was going down this evening, and I took them totally by accident. I mean, it was like 7:30 at night, and I was done doing all the stuff that I had to do which would take me outside, and I was just goofing around on the computer, and like I said, it was 7:30, and I figured I should close the blinds in the living room, and when I got in the living room and looked out, I was like
JESUS FUCK!!!
HOW AWESOME IS THIS???
So I got my camera, and I put my shoes on, and I think I had to put my pants on too, but I'm not sure, and then I ran over to the lake across street, and took a shit load of pics, and here are two of them, and just tell me how awesome they are, but it's not because I am a great photographer, or have a great eye, or even a great camera, but I am fairly good photographer, with a fairly good eye, and a fairly good camera, and no, I didn't retouch the photos at all, what you see is what you get, but you know what is weird, or strange, or pathetic???
The sunset lasted maybe ten minutes, and I probably missed the first five minutes of it, and the last five minutes I spent taking photographs, and I really didn't get the chance to actually ENJOY the fucking sunset!





And yeah, I guess you can click on them and go over to buzznet and see the full size print, but only of you want to, no pressure or anything.

Actually it's 40.5 pounds

I've lost forty pounds, and you haven't!!!
Not that I'm bragging or anything, but even if I was bragging or anything, I think I have a right too, and still ...
I've lost forty pounds, and if you'd like you can vicariously pretend that you've lost forty pounds through me, if that's possible, or makes sense.
Hey, why don't we take our skinny asses over to the handball courts and play a few, unless you'd rather play miniature golf, or lawn darts, and yeah, I know lawn darts are "technically" illegal, but you know us white folks and our lawn darts, you can always find a game if you know where to look, and you aren't adverse to greasing a few palms, and of course the first rule of lawn darts is you never talk about lawn darts, and it might be a good idea if you didn't talk about femhyg products either, but that's just a common sense sort of thing, isn't it.

Five years minus a week, or ten days.

I'm really starting to get into this blogging thing again. I've just been going through the motions for a year, or two, or three, or ...
But yeah, I mean, but anyway ...

So, I was at the gym today. yep, I just signed up at the community center to use the gym for a year, and at only ten bucks for the year it's a real good deal, and they've got a real good track, and maybe I'll post a picture of the track, yeah, that's what I'll do ...
Damn, I love ...
So, yeah, I was at the gym today, and there was only one other person using the track, and while she was walking she was taking phone calls on her cell, and between calls she was reading a magazine, and when she wasn't taking calls, or reading her magazine she was working a crossword puzzle, seriously, I can't make stuff like that up, so she was doing all that, and walking too, and did I mention she was very nice looking MILF, and when I say MILF, I don't actually mean that I'd LF her, but yeah, she was very nice, and she knew how to work that ass in between phone calls.


The track at the gym.

Picture tune, I mean time.

This could be my new favorite picture of myself, but I'm not sure if it's the black and white or the color that might be my new favorite picture of myself.

My nephew is so fucking weird.

And I don't mean the Grand Dufus.
I mean the Grand Dufus's's's's's's uncle.
Anyway, the weirdness he did today was sending MB a birthday card that she received today, but hasn't opened yet because she is taking a nap, and yes, if you remembered correctly MB's birthday was two weeks ago, but the weird part isn't that the card was two weeks late, no the weird part is that he addressed the card ...
TO ME!!!
And this is not a new weirdness, because for the last I don't know how many years he has addressed all of MB's cards to me, and I don't know what it is.
Is he too cool to address the card to Grandmother Boz, or GB~
I mean, he could just use MB's real name, I'm sure he knows what it is, it's the same as his mother's first name, and since he addressed the card to me, and I have the same last name as MB, he obviously knows her last name too.

In other news I found the naked picture of that chick that's in the musical about high school, and I wasn't even looking for it, it just appeared as if out of nowhere, and she isn't bad, but she is very young, and she should clean her bedroom up a little too.
And if you want the pic just drop me a line, and whatever ...

Shalom and Milla walk into a bar and ...

Wow, I just ran down my blog links over there on the right hand side of the page and ...
and ...
and ...
Nobody is blogging anymore, or at least not regularly, or at least not at the same place.
I mean, it was just a few years ago that everybody was blogging, and making seventeen posts a day, and stopping by, and leaving comments, and being funny, and rude, and poetic, and photogenic, and remember how I used to post a lot of pictures, and then I stopped that and started these really long posts, wait, before the really long post period I was doing something else but I don't remember what it was, and whatever happened to Shalom Harlow and Milla Jovovich, and all those other skinny chicks with hard nipples and hairy twats, and yes, I can say twats, because I think that's the new medical term for ... twats.
Anyway, I guess I can't quit, or move, or change, or dye my hair orange.
I mean, I guess I have to keep the faith baby, keep the fucking faith, yeah, me, the faith keeper.
So, be advised all you humanoids out there, I will be here forever, even if you aren't.
BABY!!!

Shalom and Milla for old time's sake





And aren't they just two of the greatest names you've ever heard?

Seriously, Coke makes a great douche.

I set a record today.
I had four refills on my diet Coke at the Bk.
It was the sixteen ounce cup, and they weren't completely empty when I refilled them, but still ... I'm pretty stoked about it.

A curious onlooker asks:
Boz, why do you get the sixteen ounce drink and not one of the mega sized drinks?
Boz: Because if you are 55 or over you get the sixteen ounce drink for fifty cents plus tax, and the tax is six cents on the dollar, so that would make it three cents on the half dollar, and fifty cents is a half dollar(more or less), so that would make the final cost ... fifty three cents, which with four refills is quite a deal, hold on a second, I have to take a whiz, and from now on I am always going to refer to IT as taking a whiz, and yeah, I lied about needing to take a whiz, I was just trying to be funny, but now that I think about it ...

Spellcheck loves me

So, there were these really two stupid people trying to get gas at the self serve pump today, and they couldn't figure it out, so the guy in the little booth came on over the speaker and told them what to do, and they still couldn't figure it out.
And that's my story for today.
Seriously, I am running on fumes right now.
I got about an hours sleep last night and I have been up all day saving the world from stupid people at self serve gas stations.
It took me ten minutes to sign into blogger, and you know, I'm not stupid, not stupid like those guys at the gas station today, I'm just dead tired, and I'd tell you that my eyes are bleeding but bleeding eyes are trademarkededed, but I guess I could say my eyes are oozing plasma, a blood by product, or something like a by product.
Stupid eyes.

As my fingers slowly ...

It's muggy, and windy, and the bird that mocks me is mocking me.
I just finished watching a movie that didn't make any sense, and there's that word again.
Sense, sense, sense.
The sun is starting to shine, but I think it's gonna rain.
I wonder if I sneezed ten times in a row real fast if I would reach nirvana, or something.

One time at the surgeon general's office me and wesley from across the street ...

It's 3:41 in the morning. My eyes won't focus, but I can't sleep.
Wait, that doesn't make sense.
I can't sleep.
Ok, yeah, I can't sleep, and it is 3:41 in the morning, and I'm having trouble reading what I am typing, but that doesn't make much sense either, but it's the truth.
I should write a poem.
I should write a poem about not being able to sleep.
Or maybe I should write a short story.
A short story about not being able to fall asleep.
I'll do the poem, it won't take as long.

A Poem About Not Being Able To Sleep
I can't sleep tonight
And it doesn't make sense
Because because because-e-e-e-e-e
It's way past my bed time ... no, that sucked.
Ok ...
And it doesn't make sense
In the present tense
And and and ...
Fuck it
I could use a smoke
Maybe a Marlboro, or a Lark
Or a Lucky Strike unfiltered
But at five dollars plus a pack
I'll just not sleep
Because it's cheaper
By the dozen
Or the gross
And now I'm tired
So, I won't be surfing porn like I planned
I'm just going to go to bed
And think about the woman at the bank who said she liked my shirt
And was that just a come on
Did she really just like the shirt
Or was there more to it
Questions questions questions
Answers answers answers
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls ... The Beatles!!!

No misspellings found, maybe one.

I'm going to bed now because since I have gotten skinny I need more rest, and I wish you'd give it a rest, because you know how I like to keep a low profile and deflect attention away from myself, and if I were a Bruce Springsteen song I'd be the one where he got real skinny and everyone was jealous of him, but that's just me, and if I were a song by ABBA I'd be Fernando, or maybe that one about the girl who liked to dance and became a queen after she lost a lot of weight.

Bob Dylan's on the radio

So I've lost 40 lbs, and I'm skinny.
Deal with it.
Pilgrim!

The horn of plenty

If you're ever constipated have me eat some green grapes and that should take care of it.

Pictures

Schauenfreude, canine style.

A dog tried to bark at me today while I was out walking, but he threw-up instead.

Take ten and call me in the morning

I had a dream last night that I had a giant erection.
It was huge.
I got a ruler out to measure it.
It was over twelve inches long.
I tried to take a picture of it, but it was too difficult to hold the camera and the ruler and keep it up at the same time.
Then I woke up, and it was nowhere near twelve inches.
It was very frustrating to be so close and yet so far.

I'll without the ' is just ill.

So, I'll be spending most of today thinking that it's Monday, and by the time I figure out that it's Tuesday it will be Wednesday, or April in Paris.

The sound of one had clapping meets the Bride of Frankenstein, or is that Frankenstien, no I guess not.

Chirp, chirp, chirp.