Anyone want to trade the last two days?

So anyway, I decided to re-arrange my bedroom for the first time in five years because my new larger bed will be delivered Tuesday or Wednesday of this week.
I mean, I moved everything, and many things I moved many times, but we all know how that is.
I guess it took four or five hours with all the rest breaks in between and due to my unfortunate spinal condition I ached liked a MoFo when I had finished.
I figured a nice hot shower would take care of some of those aches and pains so I jumped right in.
By the way, generic Head and Shoulders is a really nice shampoo. It makes your hair all soft and silky, and it smells good too.
While I was in the shower I heard a loud CLUNK, but I didn't pay much attention to it because the guy who lives next door is always making loud CLUNKS.
When I finished the shower I came out of the bathroom and there was Mother Boz in the kitchen on one knee holding on to the bar. I swear, I thought she had found religion at first, but no, she had slid, slid not fallen, and she was the loud CLUNK I heard while I was in the shower.
She asked me to help her up, which of course I did after much cursing under my breath because I get so frustrated when she falls.
I asked her if she was alright and she said yeah yeah yeah, and that was that.
Now here is where it gets interesting.
At about 12:30 am while I was reading the online Detroit News we have a power outage.
Ok, now I am sitting here in the dark in a newly re-arranged bedroom and I don't know where anything is, so I start stumbling around, knocking over, and tripping over anything that is in my path.
I remembered I had put a flashlight on the night stand so I groped around till I finally found it.
I did the whole candle thing and just sort of sat there waiting till I heard MB wake-up so I could warn her about no electricity.
I hear her stirring in her room so I go and warn her. We have a semi-intelligible conversation and she trudges off to the bathroom and I go back to my bedroom.
Five minutes later I hear another loud CLUNK and I run into the bathroom and there is MB sort of laying looking like a turtle that has been turned over on it's back.
I help her up, ask her if she is alright, and after she assures me that she is we go our separate ways.
The power comes back on after about two hours and I get up to set all the digital clocks and then I go back to bed.
I finally fall asleep, you know, it's really difficult to fall asleep when your bed is in a new position ...
At about 6:15 I wake up and I hear a tap tap tapping. I don't know what the fuck it is. I thought it might be someone at the door, but at six in the morning ... WTF.
The tapping keeps tapping and as my head clears I figure out it must be MB, so yeah, I hurry down to her room and there she is laying in the floor next to her bed tapping against the dresser with a pair of scissors.
She had tried to get up out of bed, but I guess she sort of slipped.
I helped her up again, asked if she was ok.
This time she sort of wasn't ok.
Her hip was giving her problems.
Yeah, old lady, hip, you think the worse, but it wasn't the worse, but it's bad enough.
She's bruised her hip and she isn't able to get up by herself and she is afraid to walk unless I help her, which I gladly do with a smile on my face ... every ... single ... time !!!
But anyway, it looks like I get to play evil hospital orderly like in One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest for the next couple of days ...
And did I tell you how much my back hurts???

Thanks for listening if you actually did.
This was very cathartic.

18.

Her mother was a loan officer at a branch of a local bank, who read self help books, and fantasized about being abducted by aliens.
Her father, who she hadn't see since her parent's divorce was rumored to be ...
Well, let's just say we'll be finding out more about her father as our story progresses.
[Link]

Changed her name and then he was a she

A rare pic of Nico from when she was a member of the Velvet Underground.



Look at the adam's apple bulging under her turtleneck.
Look at that mustache.
Look at those hips.
Look at that erection and it's futile attempt to escape the confines of her oh so tight, oh so snug fitting jeans.
Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?
Nico, you're a MAN, admit it.

I bet she is reading the personals of some weird perverted sex newspaper looking for men who look like women looking for other men who look like women ... object amour.
Or maybe she is just checking out the after Thanksgiving sales at Sears.

Anyway, how was your Thanksgiving.
I heard that Nico's sucked, because she's a MAN ...
And being dead couldn't have helped much either.

I'll Be Your Mirror - The Velvet Underground & Nico

Who needs TV when you've got T Rex

Random Play With a Twist
The first ten songs random songs that I didn't recognize until I checked.

1. ZZ Top Goes to Egypt - Camper Van Beethoven
2. Dig For Fire - The Pixies
3. Master and Slave - Cherry Poppin' Daddies
4. Let's Get Fucked Up - The Cramps
5. All The Young Dudes - Jill Sobule
6. Oh Miss Ohio - Gillian Welch
7. It Must Be Summer - Fountains of Wayne
8. Catholic Boy - Jim Carroll Band
9. Chris and Johnny - 4 AM Blues
10. Show Me Your Pussy - Lords of Acid

And now on with the news

This just in ...
Unable to cope with life, after his 15 minutes in the spotlight had passed, the artist once known as the dancing baby took his own life earlier today.



According to a spokesman, the dancing baby, real name Tyler Fresno, had been despondent since he had learned that his parents had squandered the vast fortune that he had earned in the mid 90's, it seemed that the laws governing child actors did not apply to the internet. That and a recent coke bust, and the realization that he would always be known as the dancing baby just proved to be too much for the now teenage Tyler to handle.

17.

She had moved to Santa Rosa with her mother from Ohio just after her parents divorced when she was five years old.
In elementary school she had been a shy and moody child, shunned by the other girls, her looks as yet unappreciated by the boys.
In third grade the first time she refused to answer the teacher she was made to stay after school.
The second time she refused to answer she was sent to the office.
After the third time she spent the afternoon on a cot in the school nurse's office.
Finally, after the fourth time she refused to answer the teacher her mother was called and an appointment was arranged with a child psychologist.
This was a trend that would continue all her life.

[Link]

If I am not me who am I?

Ya know, I think my favorite non-Boz persona is Francis Pottie.
He's a genuinely decent guy, and he's Canadian.
But ...
T-Dub is my inner child.
And ...
Bhagarna the Foreign Man he is me as idiot savant.
I guess that would make Dr Hunter Douglas ... Male Psychiatrist the man I wish I was.
Ehhhhhhh, Wing Loo, the Adorable Little Chinese Lad, he's definitely my spiritual side.
Anyway ...

What would the Duke say?

Gretchen Mol as Bettie Page



In the soon to be released or already released bio-pic on Bettie Page.

16.

As I slumped to the floor I began to remember a lot of things.
Silence ...
Flashes of light ...
John Cougar Mellencamp ...
Shaving in the bathroom mirror ...
Pin pricks ...
Men with crewcuts and grey suits ...
A long dark hallway ...
Dreams?
Reality?
Where did one start and the other end?

[Link]

I think I need to get out more

What do you think, does it look like the pillows are humping?
Or do I just need to get out more?



I CAN'T GET OUT MORE ...
MY CAR WON'T START!!!

I'm charging the battery now. Hopefully that will get it going because I have a nine am appointment to get it looked at tomorrow.

Does anynone know how long it takes to charge a car battery from a battery charger?

Buck Naked Friday Part Two

We need an icon, we gotta have an icon.

15.

I couldn't believe what I saw.
I ran my hand across my forehead.
There were stitches.
I couldn't tell how many, there had to be eight, nine, at least ten of them.
I ran into the bathroom to get a closer look.
Yes, there were ten stitches across my forehead.
They looked fresh.
The skin around the stitches hadn't started to turn that sickening yellowish greenish blue color yet.
All of a sudden I felt woosy.
I turned to the toilet bowl.
I glanced into the waste basket next to the bowl.
It was filled with blood soaked tissue paper.
I tried to steady myself and called out for her.
She came quickly to the bathroom.
On wobbly legs I asked her what the fuck had happened.
She looked surprised, shook her head and said she couldn't believe I didn't remember.
As I slumped to the floor I began to remember.

[Link - That Night]

Hark and Ferd and a story that goes nowhere

When I was stationed on Crete back in 70-71 I had two friends named Hark and Ferd.
Hark was married.
Ferd was single.
Most of the single guys had a crush on Hark's wife probably because of her long legs and her short skirts.
Hark's wife also had a whiny disposition which in small doses a lot of the guys I guess found endearing.
I guess you could have called her cute, maybe even pretty, except to me she always seemed to be sucking on a lemon.
Yeah, she wasn't my favorite person.
Hark was middle america and as middle class as you can get. His parents were both high school teachers in central Ohio, and Hark was a high school basketball and baseball star who got a baseball scholarship to Ohio University.
Ferd was irish urban working class from Boston with a half dozen brothers and sisters, and he was also a high school sports star, but no college.
Hark's wife?
She was from an upper middle class suburb of Cleveland who met Hark while they were students at OU.
Hark and Ferd were really tight.
If you want my honest opinion, I thought Ferd had more than a simple crush on Hark's wife. I thought he was in love with her, unrequited, but still in love.

Sidenote: There was quite a bit of single guy and married guy's wife stuff going on at the time. Not just unrequited, but a lot of the requited variety going on too.

It was the spring of 1971 and Hark's wife's sister flew over for a visit.
Can you see where this is going?

Yeah, Ferd fell in love with Hark's wife's sister and they eventually got married.

Ok, call my cynical, but I knew from the start that this marriage wasn't going to work. Come on, Hark's wife's sister was just a substitute for Hark's wife, it was obvious.
Not only that, I couldn't see Hark's wife's sister's upper middle class waspish upbringing meshing with Ferd's working class irish roots.
This marriage was doomed from the start.

Flash forward thirty years.
Through the miracle of the internet a bunch of us from the Crete 70-71 era were able to hook up. It was kind of cool, you know, retelling old war stories and catching up on what life had dealt a bunch of twenty year olds who were now fifty year olds.
Eventually, the online network sort of faded away and we drifted apart.
Hey, that's what happens.

Oh yeah, Hark and Ferd, and Hark's wife, and Hark's wife's sister ...

Ferd and Hark's wife's sister are living in Phoenix. He cleans pools and she works in an office, they play golf everyday, and have no kids.

Hark and Hark's wife had a couple of kids and were divorced.
Hark remarried.
Hark and his current wife are both high school teachers in eastern Ohio.
Hark's ex-wife, remarried and divorced a couple more times and is now a social worker and living alone in Buffalo. I bet she's still sucking on that lemon, and I bet she's a cat lady too!

That's it, there's no moral or anything, except that then, as now, my instincts suck.

Buck Naked Friday

There is a new phenomenon sweeping the blog world called Half Nekkid Thursday which is actually a pretty good idea except that I am not much of a joiner unless I have some means of control of the situation.
With that in mind I am starting a new feature called Buck Naked Friday, but instead of posting the pics on your blog you email them directly to me.
Multiple entries are not only accepted but encouraged.

Ok, I know the chances are slim and none, and slim just left town, that I will get any responses, but just thinking about it is giving me a bit of a chubby.

14.

I wasn't sure what was going on.
I absentmindedly started scratching a freckle on the back of my wrist.
She sighed and told me to quit picking at or it would start bleeding just like it did last time.
I was going to tell her that I wasn't picking at it, I was scratching it, but figured what's the use, and said nothing.
She shook her head disapprovingly and returned to her book.
I saw an ant carrying a crumb almost half it's size slowly heading towards the bathroom.
I watched it for awhile trying to imagine how much I could carry if I had the strength of an ant.
I got up intending to step on the ant when I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

[That Night-Link]

13.

I woke up in a cold sweat, thrashing about under the covers.
She looked up from her book and asked if I'd had a bad dream.
I closed my eyes real tight for a few seconds, opened them, and stared at her real hard.
I took a deep breath, kicked the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed and told her that yeah, I guess I must have.

[That Night-Link]

It's good being Boz

Even with only an hour and a half sleep.

The wind blows free and so does he

Man, I doubt if I'll sleep at all tonight.
We've got a wind advisory and it must be gusting up to sixty miles an hour.
I've got enough problems trying to fall asleep, how am I supposed to .... ummmm, heh, nevermind.
Anyway, I've lost power three times tonight already, just for a split second, but still long enough to send every digital clock in the house into a 12:00 12:00 12:00 12:00 frenzy.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, huh, what, no, I wasn't asleep.
Ok, I'm not scared of the wind, oh no, it's nothing like that.
It's just that it, you know, it's just so noisy and stuff.
I'm soooooooooo tired.
Oh yeah, I heard gun fire about an hour and a half ago.
Geez!!!
This reminds me of the time that Scout and Tom took the shortcut back from school the night of the open house, remember how windy it was that night.
His name was Tom, wasn't it.
No, it wasn't Tom, I just checked, it was Jem.
Where did I get Tom???
It is sooooooooooo fucking windy.
Tree branches scrapping against the house and windows.
Ceiling tiles rising and falling.
Floor boards creaking.
Lights dimming.
Back to the gunshot, or rifle shot.
Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was a rifle shot, because fire arm deer hunting season started yesterday, and it was probably some drunk hunter accidentally discharging his rifle. I mean, but still!!!
So anyway, yeah.
I think I'll turn on the tv and watch the farm reports, I've sort of lost track of the soybean futures the past couple ... DECADES.
But ha ...
I said ha ...
I can sleep all day today if I so desire.
So Mr. Wind go bite somebody else on the ass.

Even Don Quixote gets the blues

I don't get a lot of hateful feedback, but I get enough.
It's always from guys in their 30's who resent the fact that I am 55 years old but don't act like it.
Well, fuck 'em.
It's more than that though.
It's guys in their 30's who resent the fact that most of the handful of visitors I get are women in their 30's.
Hey, when I started writing this thing over three years ago I didn't write with a certain demographic in mind. I didn't try to cultivate a certain type of visitor. I just wrote ... whatever, hoping that someone might stumble in and liked what I had to say well enough to leave a comment every once in awhile.
For the most part it's worked.
Sure, there are times that I wish that I was one of those immensely popular blogs with tons of comments everyday, but ehhhhh.
I think I've found myself a comfortable little niche in my little corner of the internet.
I think I am pretty well known in the area of personal blogs.
I think my writing is fairly entertaining.

I guess what I am trying to say that if you don't like me, if you don't like what I write, if you don't like the way I lead my life .... who the fuck cares.

Oh yeah, if you attack people that I care about I will retaliate.
[See Previous Post]

Bring it on

Deleted comment

Hey Super-Bozu! How does it feel to be such a slimeball that you can actually capitalize on someone else's weakness in order to get cheap phone sex? How does it feel to know that the mother whose house you live in has moments of great disappointment when she considers the fact that her son grew up to be a pathetic loser who never did anything with his life? How does it feel to know that fantasy girl doesn't ever want to meet you in real life because, amongst other things, old age plus bad diet plus hormonal deficiency equals a really unpleasant smell? Please enlighten me!
justin | 11.15.05 - 9:19 pm | #

This is the guy who said that.



How worried should I be? He might as well have LATENT tattooed on his forehead.