Wednesday, November 26, 2003

The Brand New Grand Ennui Is Now Open For Business

The New Grand Ennui

Update your links,
and you'd better go to the bathroom because once I get on the freeway I'm not stopping till we get there.

Good-by Blogger, it's been real.

Lucky me.
I got a coupon through the mail from the local tattoo parlor, and that's parlour for what's left of the british empire, worth 20% off a tattoo or a piercing. I dunno, but a little after xmas tattoo sounds pretty tempting, or hell, even an after thanksgiving one is enough to tempt the bozzerooo.
But wait boz !!!
What about the nipple piercing you had planned on getting???
Well, ermmmmmm, ahhhhhhh, I'm having a few second thoughts about that because of what happened the other day ...
I was looking through my closet for a shirt, and I caught or snagged or something my existing nipple ring, and it hurt!!!!
But wait, there's more ...
I put on a clean t-shirt and went about my business and then I looked down and there was a big red stain on the front of the shirt.
Man, I was bleeding like a stuck pig.
It only bled for a few seconds, then I did the whole first aid thing and everything is hunky dory.
Soooo, yeah, I think I'm going to put the next piercing on hold for a bit.
One last thing, there are aspects of how I told you that I snagged the piercing that may or may not be entirely copacetic with the actual facts.

Things I hate about Thanksgiving
1. The parades.
2. That chemical in turkey that makes you sleepy.
3. Thanksgiving Day marathons on various cable channels. I mean 48 seconds of Paige Davis already seems like 48 hours, so why bother.
4. Looking for a store that's open at 10 PM because you ran out of toilet paper, or Cheez Whiz, or condoms, or toothpicks, or Depends.
5. Is it just me, or is it always really cold on Thanksgiving?
6. It's A Wonderful Life. Look Zu-Zu another friggin' angel got their friggin' wings
7. Old guys and their multi-colored plaid pants pulled up to their armpits.
8. Turkey farts.
9. Purple food.
10. The voices in my head kicking the decibel level up a couple of notches to kick off the holiday season.

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

Hey Uma, what the fuck were you thinking?

That whole Batman thing, did you lose a bet, or what.

Hey, I'm blowing this popcicle stand called blogger in a few days, so what do I care.

I wish they all could be mondo bondage girls.

Well, east coast girls are hip
I really dig the styles they wear
And the southern girls with the way they talk
They knock me out when I'm down there.
etc ...
etc ...
etc ...
I wish they all could be mondo bondage girls.

Guter Nachmittag meine kleinen Schreibmaschinen.
Been working on the new and improved Grand Ennui, but it doesn't look it's going to be too new or very improved, that's not saying that it's going to bad, it's just saying that it's going to be about the same, with just a hint of a template change, and that's all good, and don't you just love it when I try to use today's vernacular, yes, that's all good, because you know that I'm all about the substance over the style ... baby.

One other thing.
From this day forward the correct spelling of the words that and just, will be taht and jsut. I've already cleared it with Webster, not E. Lewis, but Webster the word guy.

Excuse me for ignoring you, but the Digital Pimpress has already set up my new blog, and I've been screwing around with it, and as of yet I still haven't destroyed, broken, or royally fucked up anything, but the night is still young, and man is this ever going to be a lot of fun, of course I don't know shit about what I'm doing, but ...
but ...
but ...
If they can teach monkeys to write Hamlet, Macbeth and Saved By the Bell, then I guess I can learn the basics of Movable Type.

Monday, November 24, 2003

Another installment of Audio Boz has been posted, check it out, blah, blah, blah.

It's not my fault. I didn't break blogger.
But pretty soon they won't have bozzie to kick around anymore.
The Pimpress has agreed to host the new and improved Grand Ennui.
It should be fun, it should be interesting, it should be more fun than a barrel full of dead monkeys.
Angelina and Boo didn't show up, so it looks like I will be making another post to AudioBoz later tonight.

I am seriously thinking about getting a web host.
This one sounds pretty good to me.
Does anyone out there have any suggestions, tips, or advice?

Send Me Your Tips and Tricks on How to Get to Sleep
and Seymour an Introduction

Well, jesus wept.
Here it is almost 8 in the morning and I've been up since about 5 in the morning and if you do the math that means I got about, ehhhhhhh, maybe 2 hours of sleep.
Ok, that doesn't mean I'll only get two hours of sleep, at least I hope it doesn't, because being part of the idle rich, he says tongue in cheekingly, I can sleep all day if I want, and no one would be the wiser, so put that in your ditty bag and stroke it.
I'm thinking about doing another post for Audio Boz later today, but then again I'm also thinking about having sex with Angelina Jolie and her dog Boo, or some other appropriately Angelina Jolie named dog, and I'm even starting to creep my own self out, and I'm rambling, and I think I'm starting to hallucinate, but I digress, I love you all, but not in the same creepy sort of way that I love Angelina and Boo.
Good night, or whatever.

Is it ok to listen to the Replacements, because I am, and I so much want to be considered ok, not for myself mind you, but it is always something that my parents hoped for when I was younger, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now, I think Bob Dylan said that, I'll let you be in my dream if I can be in yours, and I think Bob Dylan said that too.
Anyway, I have to go to the bank tomorrow, and here's a sure bar bet winner for you ..
Q. Who played Lumpy on Leave it to Beaver?
A. Frank Bank
Ok, it's a sure bar bet winner unless I'm at the bar, but the odds of that happening are slim and none, and slim's left town, and I'm trying to remember the last time I was in a bar, and I'm drawing a blank, and that's probably why I don't go to bars anymore.
But anyway, but nothing.

Sunday, November 23, 2003

More Scanner Art
Things people have sent me.

Obviously a poetry lover.

Dangling Conversation:
And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.

Yeah, I've got your dangling conversation
I've got your dangling conversation right here!

Guess who's having Pizza Hut pizza for dinner today.
Ok, you need a hint, I can understand that.
Let's see ...
Starts with a B, no it isn't Bizarro Superman.
Middles with an O, no it isn't God.
Ends with a Z, no it isn't Fez, from Fox Televisions That 70's Show.
Guesses ...

Check out the new AudioBoz.
It's the happening place to be any time of the day or night.

Saturday, November 22, 2003

Sounds like we have a good movie coming on the Sundance Channel.

Mean Machine (2001)
302 SUNDAY: Saturday, November 22 10:30 PM
2001, R, **, 01:38, Color, English, USA/UK,
A soccer star (Vinnie Jones) lands in prison and coaches the inmates for a game against the guards.

Sounds like a British version of Burt Reynold's The Longest Yard, which would be a change because usually we remake British films.

Which Recurring Kevin Smith Character Are You? Take the test here

I don't even know who he is.

Blogger hates me. I am their red headed step child. My blog loads when they want it to load. I know it's a plot. Blogger is jealous of me, they must be, there can be no other explanation. Of course none of you will ever read this post, because you will get tired of waiting for the page to load, or blogger will delete the post, or, and this is the most sinister aspect of the whole situation ... blogger will exercise mind control on you and make you forget that you ever read the post, and they can do that now that they are owned by Google, because, and bear, or bare with me on this, Google is a secret Government Organization Of Geeky Liberal Elitists, but you didn't hear that from me.
Please ... Stop ... The ... Voices ... In ... My ... Head

Cripes, I'm sleepy, I'm going back to bed, maybe turn on the television.
Ok, can't think of anything else, but man, I am really sleepy, and redundant too, and sleepy too.
Yawnnnnn, see I told you I was sleepy.

Friday, November 21, 2003

Attention: Mr. Wizard

ISP: 24.214.128.#

Cable Provider:

Address: Knology Holdings Inc.
1241 OG Skinner Drive
City: West Point
StateProv: GA
PostalCode: 31833
Country: US

It's funny how cable providers frown on their subscribers harrassing people on the net, isn't it.

Your move.

What Nationality Are These Boobs

Hint: It's still Friday.

It must be oriental chick friday.

It's gotta be the socks, definitely the socks.
Yeah right, it's the landing strip.

Dead Kennedy Joke

you: Where were you when you found out Kennedy had died?
me: Which one?

Just the requisite finger pic.

No more, no less. Unless you want to read something into it, but that would be entirely up to you and I would take no responsibility for your action except maybe to flash you the requisite finger pic.

Eh, you hoser, fry me up some back bacon and turn on Hockey Night in Canada, cause I'm now and honorary honourary citizen of Canada eh!

Asian chick with glasses.

I think she's looking at me. She must be looking at me. Are you looking at me. There's nobody else here so you must be looking at me. Screw you DiNiro

Thursday, November 20, 2003

I don't think enough props has been given to
Betty and Veronica in the realm of comic/cartoon babedom.

Yeah, and how come the Archie's aren't in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!!!

I've just caught a chill.

It's amazing what you can do with super glue.
Hey, I said I have a chill, what do you want, blood???
For any first time visitors please don't judge me by this post, or the last post, or the next post.

boz boz boz
boz has cabin fever. boz needs to get out. boz has eaten a gallon and a half of ice cream in the past three days. boz needs more ice cream. boz shaved, and didn't cut himself. boz didn't bathe, but he did french shower, and damn that was awful nice of the french to invent that. boz is going out today. boz needs money, the bank has money, ergo boz is going to the bank. boz wants a whopper and fries, see boz salivate. boz is still in the same pajamas he wore in the sick picture, but is wearing different socks. boz needs to make his bed. boz needs to get dressed. boz has already fed the birds, but they still mock him. boz wants a different flavor of mouthwash, perhaps something minty. boz is not sleepy. boz is not tired. boz looks at the bed and fights the urge to jump back in bed. boz is a creature of habit. boz has hired someone to rake leaves tomorrow. boz has many excuses for not raking leaves himself. boz is having a bad hair day. boz will wear a hat. boz is running out of excuses. boz will end this post.

Well, it looks like blogger is back to only sporadic sucking so I can get back to spending too much time posting too much stuff ...
So, Ok, here's another list, because my brain is still a little under the weather, but other than that I'm starting to feel almost boz-like, which is like almost zen-like, or close to it.
Eight TV Chicks From The 80's Who Helped Me Make It Through The 80's
1. Lisa Whelchel - Facts of Life
2. Lisa Bonet - Cosby Show
3. Cindy Pickett - St. Elsewhere
4. Ari Meyers - Kate and Allie
5. Christine - You Can't Do That On Television
6. Khrystyne Haje - Head Of The Class
7. Linda Kelsey - Lou Grant
8. Geena Davis - Buffalo Bill

Man that list took a bit of time, and I had to change it from ten down to eight, because I started having flashbacks of the time I stared Charlie down from the wrong end of a bayonet.

Ten words I have never said out loud, to the best of my recollection
1. Booger
2. Labia
3. okay
4. after booger and labia
5. I kind of lost
6. interest
7. in
8. finishing
9. this
10. list

Wednesday, November 19, 2003

Blogger's been sucking pretty good tonight, so I got a chance to sleeeeeeeeeep, and watch the Red Wings and the Pistons kick some booty, but since this isn't a sports blog that's all I'll say about that. I must be getting better because I'm sweating like something on a something, and I have entered the coughing stage.
Ratchet, ratchet, couuuuuuuuugh, cougggggggggggggh, cooooooooough.

I managed to get dressed and haul my lazy ass to the store to load up on cold medications. Man you just have to love the Dollar Store for stuff like that. I bought some stuff called Tom's of Maine Natural Cough and Cold Rub, which is just like Vicks Vaporub, but with a lemon verbena scent, just inhaling it will make you go ahhhhhhhhhhhh, as your socks get rocked off and go do the laundry for you. I also got 2 eight ounce bottles of a store brand equivalent to Vicks Formula 44D, and I once dated a girl who was a 44D. (rim shot)
Anyway, at the drugstore a 4 ounce bottle of Vicks 44D costs $5.49, like you people even care, and the shot of 44D I just took is starting to take effect so I'd better go lay down before I confess one of my deepest darkest secrets about the time I shared a bed with Michael Jackson and I made him my prison bitch, but in a sweet, non-sexual way.

Not boz: Hello, this is not boz. As you probably know by now boz is sick, he says it's a cold or a sinus infection or something, personally I think he's just looking for sympathy, hits and comments, and don't believe boz when he says that he made a sex tape with Paris Hilton, unless you believe that he calls his right hand _____ (fill in the blank).
But anyway, boz will probably be back later today with further tales about Charlie and the bayonet, Red, Sonny, and the boys, and lies about his sexual exploits.
Oh yeah, for those of you who care, the answer to
If boz is the second most famous person born on June 12th that has a blog, journal or diary, that's diary, not dairy, who is the most famous person born on June 12th who has ever had a blog, journal or dairy, I mean diary
The answer is ...
Anne Frank
boz says he'll catch you on the flipper side, or something.

Things I Did Not Do Today
Because I'm Sick, Dammit, I'm Sick

1. Get dressed
2. Comb my hair
3. Yank my chain
4. Write a haiku
5. Translate the Gettysburg Address into Pig Latin
6. Pray for Michael Jackson's vindication
7. Question man's inhumanity to man
8. Write a fan letter to Foghorn Leghorn
9. Boogie
10. Untie Star Trek's George Takei and let him out of my basement.

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

Things I must do tonight before I die going to bed.
1. Take meds
2. Surf porn
3. Watch the Pistons play the Lakers to see if Kobe Bryant tries anything of a sexual nature
4. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out
5. Surf porn
6. Try on my Elvis suit to see if it still fits
7. Fall asleep while reflecting on the porn I surfed today
8. Scour house for more meds
9. Hallucinate
10. I can't remember, but it has something to do with porn

How come the rest of you aren't doing creative stuff like this to honor me.

Thanks to Jer from Thought Minion.
I actually have a suit like that.

When I was a kid they used to advertise a cough syrup that tasted so good that you could use it as a topping for ice cream. I wish I had some of that cough syrup right now, I've already got the ice cream.

The real difference between men and women
according to me

When a man is sick he has sense enough to stay home and complain, and expect to get waited on until he gets better.
A woman who is sick on the other hand will keep doing whatever she has been doing, working, managing a house and family, or whatever, thus infecting society as a whole with whatever virus is infecting her.
This being the case it must be assumed that a woman, well not the same woman, but a woman nonetheless, is responsible for all the great plagues that have effected mankind, ok and womankind too, geez, throughout the ages, including the black death and the great influenza epidemic of 1914, or one of those teen years, and we all know just how troublesome those teen years can be.
But I digress ..... hahahahahahaha
I'm mad I tell you, mad, mad, mad!!!!

See, I told you I was sick, and I should be able to get a weeks worth of
self-pity posts out of this.

I am now officially delirious, check this out.
But be careful, that fucking rabbit is one tricky bastard.

I know, you don't want to hear about how sick I am, well too bad, I am so sick that I have been up since 5 in the morning watching Helen "Bleedin" Mirren in Prime Suspect, and you know she never really solves a case to my satisfaction the stupid cow, but anyway, that's how freakin' sick I am.
Snifff, do I smell baby powder, oh yeah I do, that's my room freshener, I thought I was another step along on the road to being totally out of it, mmmmmmm baby powder.
I just took my second dose of Dayquil, I didn't have any Nyquil, so I had to take Dayquil last night, and there's something terribly wrong about that, but screw it ... I'm sick.
My head feels like a football, that's an american football, an australian football, and an english football, take your pick, on second thought, don't pick, my head feels like three footballs, and you might as well throw in a frisbee too, because I'm ... sick, pay attention, how many times do I have to tell you ... sick ... sick ... sick.
But I digress, and yeah, I've noticed a lot of you using my signature phrase of
But I digress lately, that's my fucking phrase, stop using it, now, I mean it, or else, or else something, anyway, I'm sick, but you already knew that, so I'm going back to bed, but I'll be back, and I'd better not catch wind of any of you But I digressing.
And you know I love you all, seriously, I do, but today ehhhh, not so much, because ...
I'M SICK!!!!

I'm sick, no really this time I am, and I'm going to bed after I take some Nyquil or some Dayquil or some kind of quil, and I mean it, I am really sick this time, because you know even hypochondriacs sometimes get sick, and I really am sick this time, so everybody pray for me, or chant for me, or do the vulcan mind meld for me, and honest I've never watched Star Trek, no really I haven't, someone once told me about the mind meld thing, and no, that wasn't me at the Star Trek convention, how could it be me, I didn't see you, so you couldn't have seen me, and can you believe that George Takei was actually charging 20 bucks for an autograph, and no I didn't know that George Takei played Hikaru Sulu, it was just a lucky guess, hey it could happen.

I think we will all agree that I am the 2nd most famous person born on June 12th to have a blog, a journal or a diary, but for 50 bonus points, and a chance at our year end grand prize, who is the most famous person born on June 12th to have a blog, journal or a diary.
(Hint: It isn't Wil Wheaton or Samuel Pepys, and aren't they the same person anyway.)

Monday, November 17, 2003

Ok, where was I when suddenly became an object of sexual desire.
Gay or straight, man or woman, it doesn't matter, it seems like everyone wants a piece of the boz, and look I've started referring to myself in the third person again. This is all so disconcerting.

Comments I have left on other people's blogs today, ok, and maybe yesterday too, ok, in the last month or so

It was an oversite that you left my name off the good writers list wasn’t it, tell me it was.
Because I’m a veteran

I think we can rule out the possibility that it was Anne Frank

I've seen the artificial virus sex tape.
oh yeah, and here's my attempt at a joke ...
Where was the Paris Hilton sex tape filmed?
Hilton HEAD, South Carolina.
Ok, it's more like a riddle

oh man, it must be serious if you took the troll with you.

In many cultures Body Odor, yes, let's quit pussy footing around and call it was it is, is considered an aphrodisiac.

I couldn't make it anyway, I'll be drinking beer and watching DVD's with the Kennedy's.

I hate when I overspend on hookers.

I haven't been able to get my bozzie up for years. (((rim shot)))

It looks like Kobe wants to perform oral sex on Ben Wallace.

I think you just gave me an orgasm.

A banjo and a walking stick !!!
You add two hookers and you’ve got my dream date.

The violation of the Mann Act.

I am less pessimistic about my future because most of it is behind me.

Everybody thought I was crazy, but I know what I saw.

"sniffing my underwear before putting them on and dancing around to ABBA in my bedroom."
Been there ...
Done that ...

What can I say, I get these in my emails all the time.

I am the boz and I reek rock.

I found this pic while surfing for a pic of Dita Von Teese.

Sharon Stone wearing men's underpants while smoking a cigar and cupping her boobs, a trifecta of my deepest darkest perversions, now if she only had the name "boz" tattooed above below her belly button, I'd be running for the bathroom to get a box of tissues right now.

Oh yeah, nice package Sharon.

I just woke up from falling asleep watching a Japanese zombie movie, but that's ok because I had seen it before, and no it wasn't one of those cheesy low rent type of Japanese zombie movies that we have come to know and love over the decades, this would have definitely been in the Marvin Gardens rent range, and I'll trade you Marvin Gardens for St James Place and New York Avenue, and I'll throw in $500.00.
But I digress, I mean I didn't even get the covers pulled down before I fell asleep, and I think when I go back to bed I'm still not going to pull the covers down, and man I think I just discovered a new way of not having to make the bed everyday, and somebody quick give me the url for Hints for Heloise.
All of a sudden, my arms hurt, well not hurt, they just sort of feel limp, and don't you just hate when that happens.
So, I am going back to bed to dream the dreams of the irreverent MoFo that I have always dreamt of being.

Sunday, November 16, 2003

Commenting on my comments on a Sunday night

dvl - Did I mention the ventriloquist was also a clown, oh yeah, and another thing ...
bite me.
Gwen - I'm not sure if you meant you had dreams like I had or you dreamt about me, either way you'd better check and see if your group medical covers the therapy I'm sure you're going to need.
Pimpress and belle - Love me, love my shirt.
Melissa - You'd better ask for a recount, either way I've got your back.
muscle 68 - I've always thought I was famous, so I guess that makes two of us.
nada - One can only hope you're going to Bozaritaville, and please don't forget the glasses.
paul - Keith Moon, John Bonham, Karen Carpenter, all drummers, all dead.
Kat and Pimpress - Get a room you two.
Jessica - "Boz My Heterosexual Lover" I like the sound of that.
Rachel - How can you be pissed, you could visit Graceland every day if you wanted, I mean it's friggin' GRACELAND!!!
Red, Sunny, boys tell 'Cilla I won't be home tonight, I've got to rehearse lines with Shelley Fabres.
Vanessa - Oooh, oooh, oooh, I've got an accent, I've got etchings too, would you like to come up and see them?
Hard Artist - If I really were a serial killer, would you still be alive.

Yeah, I know, it's just filler, but ... why I am making excuses
I am boz, I reek of ennui, and other things, so deal with it, or something.

The Have Mercy T-shirt

This is like my total veg out day.
I'm wearing my fluorescent orange t-shirt, you know the one, the one that makes your corneas go ... have mercy.
I'm watching a football game that I have no interest whatsoever in, and I never knew how sexy cheerleaders looked in the rain.
I don't feel guilty because I slept till a quarter after one, and didn't get dressed till a quarter after two, if you call being dressed the aforementioned t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and socks.
I'm so vegged out I didn't even use plaque remover when I brushed my teeth, now that's Vegged with a capital VEG.
I'm so vegged that I might not even run spellcheck before I post this, of course I'm so anal that I probably will.
I'm so vegged that I'm not even going to eat any veggies today, and no fruits either, no, my 5 food groups for the day are meat, spuds, bread, soda and candy, oh yeah and pretzels, fat free pretzels, and how vegged out is it if the healthiest thing you eat all day is fat free pretzels.
I'm so vegged I'm just going to end this post right here.

What is cool?
Well, yeah, I'm cool, or at least I've led myself to believe that I am, and how come you never see an oriental chick hitch-hiking, now that would definitely be cool, 'specially if I offered her a ride and she said "cool" and jumped in all cool and stuff and she was sort of geekish but in a cool way, and she quoted Lenny Bruce and Joseph Heller, and used words like copacetic and oblique, and her glasses framed her face perfectly, oh yeah baby, her glasses, and while she leaned over and poked me in the chest with her finger to make a point, her skirt would ride up, and there'd be nothing but skin and more skin, and cotton baby, you know you gots to love the cotton, and she smelled like laundry just out of the dryer, and where the fuck did that come from, and did I mention, oh yeah, I did mention it, and don't forget her boobs, well, yeah, like I'd forget her boobs, and of course we'd end up having sex, oral anal, doggie, reverse cowgirl, and like a couple of freakin' missionaries too, but there would be no talk of marriage ... marriage whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?????
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yeah, good night, catch you on the flipside.

I've been listening to folk music since I was a teenager, well not continuously, I've stopped to go to the bathroom a couple of times. You know all the old standbys. Bob Dylan, Tom Paxton, Phil Ochs, Tom Rush, Judy Collins, etc, etc, ad infinitum, but the only one who ever gave me a chubby was Buffy Sainte-Marie, well I did get a swelling listening to Tom Rush once, but that was because my underpants had rode up, but other than that my heart (on) belonged to Buffy, and I don't know where this post is going other to say that after listening to her for the past hour or so that she still gives me a bulge in the old trou.

Saturday, November 15, 2003

Celebrities I'm Glad I'm Not
1. Gallagher
2. Pat Sajak
3. Caroline Rhea
4. Greta Van Sustern
5. Chevy Chase
6. Carmen Electra
7. The English judge from American Idol
8. Any celebrity that goes by only one name
9. Any celebrity that goes by three names
10. Any drummer in a rock band
11. Any ventriloquist that uses an animal as his dummy
12. Any celebrity who refuses to wear a helmet while riding a motorcycle.
13. Any celebrity who has already died or plans on dying in the next twenty years

What's Happening in Bloggerville
see links for links
1. Tank Green is going to California for a few weeks in search of new and weirder socks.
2. ATLSuper* will be back next weekend after going on a cross country shooting spree for the past month.
3. Stray Bullet is or isn't a bitch, recent polls inconclusive.
4. Still no word on Hot Damn Doyle but he could be touring as part of a Pogues Tribute Band.
5. Belle residing in a parallel universe ruled by mutant toasters.
6. Hard Artist working on his latest Hard Review a scathing expose of
7. Paul still trying to figure out why nobody likes him as he changes the name of his blog to "It's Not With-in Me To Be Humble".
8. I finally realize that the Bored Housewife and Mostly Fluff aren't the same person.
9. The Pimpress is still way too young, evil evil thoughts please go away.
10. Monique will finish her 50,000 word novel by the end of November after all, November 2006, or 07, or 08 ....
11. One person pissed because I didn't mention them.
12. Three people pissed because I did.
13. There is no #13 because that would be unlucky.

For all you Boz-anatics out there I've just added a new audio file.
Dig it, cause it is the Bozziest.

Listening to Bikini Kill, Bratmobile Le Tigre late on a Friday night/Saturday morning.
Just how hip am I.
No, really, just how hip.

Friday, November 14, 2003

This has got to be about the funniest thing I've seen today, or at least since I got home a half hour ago.
Link courtesy of the dapper Mr Conner Lingus.

An actual sign, at an actual church
in Dimticket Wyoming.

Would Reverend Boz lie to you?

Deer hunting season starts at dawn tomorrow, and I am tres ambivalent.
I have never hunted, mostly because I don't look good in blaze orange and camouflage,
but I don't begrudge the hunters the pleasure of spending copious amounts of money, which my little community gets a pretty hefty share of, on beer and canned beef stew, in hopes of hoisting the carcass of Bambi's Ma or Pa on the bumper of their pick-up or SUV.
The 400,000 plus hunters in the state of Michigan will murder slaughter destroy harvest about 250,000 of the states deer population.
I mean this is good, because hunters will spend upwards of $50,000,000 this deer hunting season, while the elusive white tail deer will spend next to nothing.
Ok, as a little balm to you bleeding heart anti hunters, look on the bright side ...
250,000 dead dear
25 dead hunters (heart attack, mistaken for a deer, falling from a tree, drunken automobile accident, and at least one case of being shot by his dog)
It's not a bad trade-off

It doesn't feel like Friday.
That's about all I have to say.
If it feels like anything, it feels like Sunday.
Maybe the whole change back to standard time has finally hit me.
Or maybe I just had a dream about it being Sunday.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not sad or upset that today is Friday,
I just don't like when a day sneaks up on me like that.
It just hit me.
Today is actually Friday.
How weird is that.
Well, anyway, I'm going back to bed.
No telling what weird ass dream I'll have now.
Just as long as I don't have the one about the talking kittens again.
See you in church.

Pajama party at my place on Friday night.
Bring your own sleeping bag and a snack, and maybe a change of underwear, just to be
on the safe side. There could be some real hi-jinks, ya know, truth or dare and strip poker, whoaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

She's cute.

Black is black, I want my baaaaaaa-by back.

Thursday, November 13, 2003

This is sad.
I just realized that I make just as little sense on an audio post as I do on a written post.
Yeah, I just realized that, and my plosives are really plosive, and my fricatives aren't so hot either.

I've got a new microphone, my sound recorder is fixed, and my voice just cracks a little bit, so it looks like you may be getting a few more sound files featuring the
dulcet tones of boz.
I was a bit rushed on this one because there is a time limit on the length of the file, I don't normally talk this fast or this squeaky, unless I am aroused, which I'm not, well, not right now, well, now, but not then ...

I need to get a haircut, but it's still pretty windy and the barber shop is like a 15 mile drive, which would be 30 miles round trip if I decided to come back home, and damn I just heard that about 20 states are effected by strong winds, and that's a lot.
But boz, you might say, aren't there any barber shops closer than the one that is 15 miles away.
Well yeah, I would reply, but .... and there's always a but, isn't there.
The barber shop that I used to go to, which is 1.5 miles from here, which ironically figures out to a tenth of the distance to the barber shop I currently go to, really creeps me out for two reasons.
The first reason being that I think the one barber is trying to hit on me, which would be cool if it was a she and she was breathtakingly beautiful, but what would a breathtakingly beautiful female barber be doing cutting hair in a small town barber shop in NE Michigan, I mean heck if she was breathtakingly beautiful she could probably get a job cutting hair in Saginaw, or become a Penthouse centerfold, but the barber is a he, and I don't swing that way, NTTAWWI, and he dyes his hair, and a bunch of other stuff to creepy to mention.
The second reason is that the other barber has what I am almost positive is a borderline case of Tourette's Syndrome, and pity the fool who was in his chair while he was snipping away with an extra sharp pair of barber scissors and an episode commenced.
Stab, stab, stab, blood, blood, blood, kill, die, fuck, tic, tic, tic, etc, etc, etc.
This post is long enough.

Who is Paris Hilton, and why should I give a rat's ass about seeing her in a sex video, unless of course I am in the sex video with her, but then of course they wouldn't be calling it the Paris Hilton Sex Video, they'd be calling it the Boz Sex Video with some chick who nobody gives a rat's ass about.
I love it when I don't even make sense to myself.

Gulp and Double Gulp
Severe Weather Alert from the National Weather Service



Wednesday, November 12, 2003

If I could have this effect on just one woman, just once in my life, I could die a fulfilled man.

I need a shave.

Holy Fuckin' Shit
There's a storm a brewing in Bozaritaville.
Winds at 35 mph gusting to 50.
Lightening and thunder.
Temperature drop of about 20 degrees.
Rain showers changing to snow showers.
Garbage cans blowing all over the street.
If I fit under the bed, I'd be there.
But am I scared, nah, you remember the story about Charlie and the bayonet, it would take a bit more than than a little wind, rain, and stuff to make me a'scared.
Unless spiders were involved.

Today is David Schwimmer's birthday, did you send him a card.
And did you know that one of my readers went to high school with David Schwimmer.
I think she had a crush on him, but won't admit it, but I could be wrong.
Of course what woman could resist the charms of TV's David Schwimmer.
And what man doesn't envy the ruggedly masculine persona of David Schwimmer.
I think I could write a poem about David Schwimmer

All I Know About David Schwimmer
He's not my Friend, but he plays one on NBC
On Thursday night on Must See TV
He went to Beverly Hills High with Desiree
And that's all I know except for his rhinoplasty.

I guess I'm just not a hat person.

But check out the nifty Grand Ennui custom made T shirt.

You know that Carly Simon song
He's So Vain,
it wasn't written about me, but it could have been, except for the part about the Lear Jet and Nova Scotia, and the apricot scarf, which sounds pretty gay now, but in the 70's many guys wore apricot scarves, well, Mick Jagger and Warren Beatty did.
But I digress.
I'm so vain, I bet I think this post is about me !!!!!

Things Beyond My Control
1. The fact that some people think David Spade is funny.
2. Those little rubber teeth that dogs have.
3. That dust comes back.
4. The Real World meets Road Rules.
5. The voices in my head.
6. The voices in your head.
7. The link between velcro and mind control.
8. Demi Moore's boobs.
9. The current debate in regards to swallowing.
10. Come on, David Spade funny???

I've got morning breath real bad.
Two things I can do about it, well, probably more than two, but for the sake of argument we'll say there are two things.
Oh great, I forgot where I was going with this, so I'm just going to go back to bed, and that was probably one of the two things, or possibly both of the two things.
But first I think I'll go breathe on a midget, cause stuff like that gives marci a wet spot.

Oh shit.
I just saw Juhn Turtorro naked.

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

Ok, I have eight Bed in a Bags, but only two beds.

Would that be an obsession or a fetish?

I'm home, and what is this, and why did I buy it.

And it's not a girdle, so don't even go there.
You think I'm fat, don't you, bastards.

Hello, this is boz, I can't come to the phone blog right now, but if you leave a message at the sound I'll get back to you later tonight.

Happy Veteran's Day

And I didn't know that O.J. served in the 'Nam, must be where he picked up his knife skills.

I've been 50-ized, and in less than 24 hours.
Belle, the new chick on the blog has been regaling me with tales of the Dreaded Monochichi's, while we waited for the 50th post and stuff.
Now, tell me, did it hurt all that much?
Speaking of Belle, and I just was, wasn't I? I feel sorry for her parents, unless she was raised by wolves, and then I don't, because wolves eat Farmer Brown's chickens, or do foxes eat Farmer Brown's chickens, yeah, I think it's the fox that eats the chickens, but not until it jumps over the lazy dog.
Quick recap.
Belle, sorry for her parents, unless wolves, chickens, foxes, lazy dogs ...
She writes some seriously demented stuff, sort of like how I would write if I were female and going through menopause.
Anyway, I laughed the laugh of a thousand rabid hyenas, and you will too.
Goodnight, and aren't you glad I'm posting again.
I am allowed to say seriously?

Monday, November 10, 2003

Ok, here's the deal. I've done my part, now it's your turn.
I will not be posting again until I get 50 comments on THIS post.
I love you all, no really, honest, and I'm out of here like a bad habit, or something.

Hey, there's a good movie on The True Story Channel about the bombing of Hiroshima.
I might as well watch it, and even though I never visited Hiroshima I did visit Nagasaki, and there was a bar, and a certain bar maid, and it was cherry blossom time, and people have needs, and urges, and stuff, and it always ends up being about sex with you people doesn't it, and her name was Tsetseko and my name was Ken, and I think the Anglicized version of Tsetseko is Windy, and who's tripping down the streets of the city, smiling at everybody she sees, who's reaching out to capture a moment, everyone knows it's ...
Yeah, I know it's a stretch, but ...

I dare anyone to deny me my internet icon status now. I mean this is pretty fuckin' impressive, and you know something, the posts haven't been half bad.
And I want you to know, I couldn't have done it without you, and I say that with all the false humility I can muster.
I can't lie, it always has been, and always will be, all about me.
I blacked out there for a minute. Where was I?
Oh yeah, humility, me, me, me, yeah that just about sums it up.
And that reminds me of a story from back on my days on Crete.
There was a young airman, and honest it wasn't me, who wanted to get out of the air force so bad that he feigned craziness in hopes of getting a section eight discharge.
Well anyway, they sent him to Germany to see a shrink, and one of the questions that the shrink asked the young airman, that wasn't me ... honest, is what he did after he masturbated.
And he told them he drank a Pepsi and wrote a letter to his mother.
I think he got his discharge, and I think I'll have a Pepsi.

I wonder if my mother is still up, I haven't called her in awhile.

Sunday, November 09, 2003

Ya know, I think this is starting to effect my health. My head is starting to twitch, I'm breaking out in a cold sweat, I'm sprouting nose hair, wait the nose hair thing started 15 years ago, but all that other stuff just started.
You see, I have 2 hours left, and I only have four posts left to finish, and I've already written the 50th post, so that's not a problem, but this is typical me, I get all caught up in the moment, and there is no way in hell that I'm not going to finish this, but there is that little grain of an idea way in the back of my head telling me to hurry hurry hurry up, Arghhhhhhhhh.
Never mind, next post.

Last pic of the night.

A twenty year old Airman Boz stationed on the island of Crete making the world safe for truth, justice, and the american way, and trying to score with as many hippie american tourist chicks as possible, and with me that wasn't too many, if any at all.

45? I thought this was #46. I demand a recount.
I'm starting to scare myself now. I mean I'm hearing those voices again. You know the ones I mean ...
Bloggers are evil, kill all bloggers, bloggers must die, death to bloggers, get me a dish of ice cream, bloggers are the anti-christ
But I digress, and my wrists are getting sore and for once it's not from beating off.
Yeah, this post is long enough.
Next !!!

Would you buy a used car from this guy ???

Would you buy a tie from this guy ???
Would you buy a black market baby from this guy ???

I've told three people to bite me tonight, and it's getting rather monotonous, so just to make it a bit easier on me ...

Fat Free Malone
Rosa Posa
ATL SuperStar
HotDamn Doyle
Cacoa Deuce
Dynamite Diva & Mr. Lingus
Whitey Owns Me
Fuzzy Bottomed AntiChrist
You Made Monkey Cry
Anna the PunkRawk ... Girl
Just Blu
The Yetidrone
Anti's ... From Hell
The Hard Artist
Bored Housewife
Mad Mathias
Cunty Fresh Me
Flame Dame
The Mad Dater
Definition of Boredom
Digital Hamster
Divine Trash
An Aussie Lad
Flowers Eat Shit
Blog Collective
Stacey the Sinner
2 Second Shelf Life
And another thing
Stray bullet
Mostly Fluff
Cartoon Pig
The Pimpress

Ya'll can just go ahead and bite me, and get it over with. Come to think of it, there's a few, ok, more than a few of you who I wouldn't mind biting me multiple times around various erogenous zones.
This was a panic post, don't judge it too harshly.

Sunday night must be nostalgia night for me.
I was driving home from the gym and I heard the song Windy by the Association, and it made me cringe. I was like 16 going on 17 when this song came out and I sort of fantasized about meeting, falling in love with, marrying, having kids with, and growing old with a girl like Windy. Ok, I didn't sort of fantasize, I had our whole life planned out.
Ok, it was the start of the whole hippy-dippy summer of love thing that barely lasted through the summer of love, but ...
read the lyrics, I must have been seriously living in some sort of dream world, but on second thought, I wonder what Windy looks like now???

Donnie Bible used to live down the street from me, oh yeah, and Donnie is a guy, and Bible is his real last name, it hasn't been changed to protect the innocent.
Donnie was a couple years older than me, and he dressed like Little Joe from Bonanza, I mean he wasn't a kid dressing up like a cowboy, he was a teenager dressing up like Little Joe from Bonanza, but other than that he was pretty cool.
He was a big guy, and like most big guys he was very easy going, and nothing ever got his goat,
Nothing that is until Paul Tibble and Billy Muzynski decided to test Donnie's patience.
They were hassling Donnie from his backyard, really trash talking him, and for the life of me I couldn't understand why, because Paul and Billy were sort of like the two reject friends in Stand By Me, real dweebs, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, Donnie pretty much let it slide, and Paul and Billy thought they were pretty safe because I guess they thought if Donnie ever made a move they could hop the fence and make a quick getaway.
Well, they underestimated Donnie's quickness, cause when he moved, he moved fast and deadly, and he traversed the 70 or so feet from the back of the house to the fence in record time, pulled them off the top of the fence, one in each hand, and pummeled them to a bloody pulp in what seemed like less than ten seconds. I'm pretty sure Paul and Billy would have started crying, but it was all over and done with before they had the chance.
Oh yeah, Donnie was cool, but his Brother Ronnie ...
Well, that's a story for another post.
Damn, this post is way to long and way too boring.
Fuck it, love me, love my post.
The end.

I finally figured out who The Hard Artist reminds me of in his pics on Monique's site...
Eddie Munster on speed.
And when I did a spell check it gave me an alternate spelling of "mongoose" for Monique,
nah, I don't see it.

And what would a 50 in 50 be without at least one pic of my favorite 50's icon ...
Bettie Page.

And it's all starting to make sense now, isn't it. Well, no it isn't but you have to admit the 50-50-50 was a neat trick, even if totally by accident.

I scanned a couple more pics, but I'm saving for them for when I really need a post. Man, 1963 was a strange year. You can't see it, but I am also wearing black slacks, with black pointy toed shoes, which we lovingly called cyclones because the pointy toes made it easier to slip your feet into the openings of a cyclone fence for when you needed to make a quick getaway, and the oufit was topped off, or should I say bottomed out, by a pair of white socks with the tri-color rings around the top, and if you were really cool the cuff of your pants barely fell below the bottom ring of the socks.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot, we always carried a rat tail hair brush in the back pocket of our slacks, and from the looks of it mine never left the back pocket.
That was our uniform of choice.

Boz at 13, and by the looks of it 13 was a very unlucky number for me.

Yeah, I dressed myself, and the haircut was my idea too.
I'm sitting here with feelings of dread and nostalgia washing over me.

I decided to do the 50 in 50 because I knew I would never be able to do the 50,000 words in a month novel, besides this is much more like me, short bursts of lucidity followed by something that is the opposite of short bursts of lucidity.
I found a box full of old pictures, maybe I can find a funny one to scan for my next post.

I'm starting to panic a little bit now. I mean, I rarely have a lot to say about nothing, but I'm even running short on that.
How long can I get by on nothing but my charm.
I might have to start breaking out the semi-nude self portraits if the brain doesn't kick in pretty soon.
Did I tell you that I'm gassy?

I finally got rosa off my back, did you see what she had to say on the zonkboard. I thought she was over me, but really, can one ever actually get over boz.
The shower was good and hot, and now I'm nice and clean ...
I'm a clean machine, and thanks to David Bowie for the inspiration.
And the gas is starting to come back, but I'm a hypochondriac so take what I say worth a grain of salt.

I just got home from the gym and I'm home for the night. I'm going to finish this diet Pepsi, relax a little, watch some basketball, then take a shower, and think about shaving, but I'll most likely put that off till tomorrow, the shaving part, not the shower part ...
But anyway, then I'll kick back and finish the last 16 posts.

You have to have at least one quiz in a 50 in 50 post, and I don't know, if that's a girl I am strangely aroused, but if it's a guy ... well, I'm still kind of strangely aroused.

Ooh,  sexy glasses!
You're a nerd.

Which highschool stereotype are you? (Results contain pictures!)
brought to you by Quizilla

I've never done a fan sign. Is anyone interested. I'll take requests on what I sign, up to a point. I just woke up and I'm half asleep so this sounds like a good idea right now, but I'm sure it won't seem like such a good idea after I wake up and reconsider what I've just offered, but what the fa!!!

Both of my brother-in-laws drive Cadillacs, and I'm not even sure how to spell it. I feel so inadequate. Yeah, but I bet my Cavalier gets a lot better mileage. I feel so economical.
I'm sending myself so many mixed messages, I feel so confused.
My feet are cold and I'm hungry. The life of an internet icon is not all it is cracked up to be.

The Digital Pimpress sent me this pic.

It's not her, but that is unimportant, what is important is how someone so young got so kinky so soon?

The pressure is really on now. I have 22 more posts to make in 12 hours. I mean I just have to make it, my reputation is on the line, and all of a sudden I'm feeling kind of gassy, and that is never a good thing, and have you noticed how the zonkboard has become the place where all the hipsters, and paul, congregate, sort of like Arnold's from Happy Days, but only if I can be the Fonz!!!

I think I'm going to get rid of my telephone.
I was sneezed at, bawled out and ignored all in a ten minute time frame this morning.
Feel my pain, oh the humanity, the pump don't work cause the vandals took the handles, nothing can stop the human being lawnmower, beware of geeks bearing grifts, measure twice cut once, insert subliminal message here, my neck hurts, my brain leaks, doctor it's my eyes, tell me what to do, I wish they all could be California girls, only a go-go girl in love with someone who didn't care, if you want to be happy for the rest of your life never make a pretty woman your wife, moving through the traffic like a mounted cavalier, leaning out the taxi window trying to make her hear, Nadine, darling is that you, this post has taken on a life of it's own.
Rack 'em, your break.

If I were a late night DJ on one of those soft rock stations, the DJ who had the two hour spot playing nothing but love songs.
This would be Boz the LoveMeister's theme song, and I dare you, no, I double dog dare you, to try and not sing along with the chorus of this song.
Me-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e, a-a-a-a-and Mrs-Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, we got a thing going on ...

Ten Things About Rosa Posa
Rosa Posa
1. She has an Australian accent that can melt butter.
2. And a tongue that can cut glass.
3. She's been trying to seduce me since March.
4. And has come close a couple of times.
5. But we are past that in our relationship
6. We are now mad serious friends.
7. She tells me her deepest darkest secrets.
8. And I make fun of her.
9. She'll be mad when she reads this.
10. Not for what I said, but because I said it in the 25th post and not the 1st.

It's twenty after four and I just woke up realizing that I have a thing for
Helena Bonham Carter, and there's nothing I can do about it.
I mean WHAT CAN I DO, she's fucking
Helena Bonham Carter.
Sort of rolls off your tongue, doesn't it ...

Helena Bonham Carter, she's Johnny Depp with tits and a cunt.
She makes me ooze.

Time for one more post?
Yeah, I guess so
What do you think I should talk about?
Tell them about the time you met the Beatles
I never met the Beatles.
Ok, how about the time you had sex on the elevator going to the top of the Empire State Building
Sorry, that wasn't me either, but I did get a chubby driving across the Mackinac Bridge.
Staring Charlie down from the wrong end of a bayonet ...
Nah, I just use that to try and get the chicks.
You pretty much suck then, don't you
Yeah, pretty much.
And to think I could have been the conscience of Keith Richards, but no, I picked you instead.
Life sucks.
You got that straight. I guess I'll doobie doobie doo right on out of here. Sammy, go tell Julie Newmar to meet me up in my room.

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

Is latex really a fetish?

How about boots, and fishnets, and women who make you call them Mistress, and collars and leashes and CBT, and I'm not revealing too much about myself, am I.

I bought a bag of Smith Brothers Black Licorice cough drops yesterday, you know, the kind with no medicinal value whatsoever, but damn they taste good, and it reminds me how in grade school we weren't allowed to eat candy or chew gum in class so we'd, and when I say we'd I mean me'd, would skirt the letter of the law by using Smith Brother's or Luden's cough drops to sate my sweet tooth.

Saturday, November 08, 2003

For those of you who weren't able to hear the AudBlog try ...

Before I forget. My good friend and partner in kink, dvl is getting the outline of her tattoo done on her lower back Sunday at 1PM PST, so I want everyone to tune into her aura and see if we can get some kind of cosmic mantra going, where we can share the pleasure of her pain, and maybe go for coffee and danish afterwards, spiritually speaking of course.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, Desiree has an aura!!!

An audio post.

Powered by audblogaudio post powered by audblog

She looks good in a ponytail, don't you think

I mean really good. I think I'll go ....
I think I'll go rest now.
Yeah, rest, that's what I'll do.
And another thing.
It's almost criminal that her ass is on the same page as my face.

Now I could go out and look at the lunar eclipse, I could do that, but if you'll check the box on my blog you'll notice that the temperature is something like 52 below zero, and I'd be a fool to go out in weather like that, and besides the hockey game is on, and we all know how much I like hockey.
Hold on, I think if I look out my window I might be able to see it.
Guess not, well, I'm not really into astronomy and stuff.
And hopefully this will be the most boring post of the 50 in 50.
So you don't even have to bother reading this one.

Just got back from the gym a little while ago, and I have come to the conclusion that short chubby guys shouldn't wear long baggie shorts, it just ruins the whole visual aesthetic of life, and it's sad, and I'm sure there is something else I want to add to this post, but ...

What would a 50 in 50 be without 6 of the boz.
The Many Faces of Boz

And he's even wearing a grown-up man shirt, and refering to himself in the 3rd person.

Could this be unlucky.
I'm home and I'm bored, and I'm not going to list the other 40 greatest guy flicks of all times, and if you really care you can just do a Google, or go buy the magazine, and as I reach the teens in the 50 in 50 do I seem to be getting a bit hostile, and one more thing How come online blogs, journals and diaries are ass backwards???
I mean when you read a book you don't start with the last chapter and read backwards, do you, well do you punk, and yeah I guess Dirty Harry was the greatest guy flick of all time if I quote it, because as we all know I am all GUT GUY as well as being all MAN.
Damn I'm getting steamed now.
Where was I???
Oh yeah, ass backwards blogs, journals, and diaries, I mean they found a cure for cancer why can't they find a cure for that, ok, WHEN they find a cure for cancer the blog conundrum should be the next thing on their list, just don't argue semantics with me, and when I say
their who exactly do I mean and why.
I think I'm gonna go blow some things up.

This shouldn't even count as a post, but ...
Men's Journal pics the
50 Greatest Guy Flicks Of All Time
I checked them out, most are pretty good, some are pretty lame, give me a break,
Chevy Chase in Fletch !!!!
Oh well, you decide, I'm about to go out, and I'll tell you my favorites out of their favorites if I feel like and I don't forget about it, later tonight.
Oops, they only give you the top ten, not to worry, I have a free subscription to the magazine, being that I am all MAN they gave it to me, and I'll list the other 40 tonight, if I feel like it and I don't forget about it, or as Tony Soprano would say fah-get ...
ah, who the hell cares how Tony Soprano would say it.

Shit, that brat kid from next door has his motorized scooter out, and he can't stop beeping his freakin' little horn, and doesn't he know it's just after noon and some of us sleep till one. I knew that kid was trouble as soon as I saw his parents bring him home from the hospital.
Oh great, now his old man is out with the leaf blower.
What's next, hand grenade practice?

The Grand Ennui will be out and about in Los Angeles this weekend, and if that sounds cryptic it was meant to be, but be patient my little mugwumps things will become clearer as this week turns into next week.

I really don't know what to say about this picture except ...

It makes me want to play football and have sex at the same time, and I haven't felt that way since Super Bowl XIV.

A lot of people are posting song lyrics today, so here is my little snippet.
I don't remember the name of the group, but they also did the song Don't Bogart That Joint, and I think they might have been called the Fraternity of Man, but it doesn't really matter because this was 1968 so they are probably all dead by now.
Anyway ...

I wish I'd been a punk when I was in school
I wish I'd been a punk broke all the rules
I never got caught smoking in the lavatory
In gym class never told a dirty story
I wish I'd been a punk when I was in school
yadda yadda yadda
blah blah blah
ad infinitum ....

My fill in the blank answers.

1. If I could be any teenage celebrity I would like to be Hillary Duff.
2. If I could change places with another blogger I would change places with Shanti, because I feel such guilt for not picking her as one of the five bloggers I would like to have dinner with.
3. Boz aroni.
4. Rock, paper, scissors, hand grenade.
5. I wish I'd been a wake when I was in school.
6. I wish my ego was bigger.
7. I wish my penis was smaller.
8. I fantasized about the two women who were walking in front of me at the walking track the last time I masturbated.
9. Jesus Christ! Did somebody just get crucified in here?
10. Dumber than a bag full of really really dumb people.

This is the obligatory almost 5 in the morning poor boz just woke up and can't get back to sleep post. I'm really starting to get into this 50 post in 50 hour thing now, I mean, man, think about it, it's almost like breaking the four minute mile, or finding a cure for polio, or the grand opening of Disneyland, or some other earth shattering thing that happened to happen in the happening 1950's, and wasn't Mamie Eisenhower some sort of sexy thang, and I use the word thang almost apologetically.
Is this post over???

One more post before I turn in, and actually I meant to turn in about forty five minutes ago, but I was waylaid by my adoring public, and sometimes my adoring public frightens me just a bit, but it's a small price to pay for my internet icon status, and you know I'm just kidding about the internet icon status stuff, well mostly I am, but it would be nice to have a soft drink (Boz Cola) or a disease (Boz in mouth disease) or a town (Bozaritaville) named after me, and where would one be without hope and aspiration, and I said ... laid!!!!

I was chatting with dvl just now, and I asked if she had an idea for one of my fifty posts in fifty hours.
She suggested I do a haiku.
So here goes nothing.

A haiku for Des
It's the least that I can do
On such short notice

Baby ...

Ok, if I were a singer, I'd be one of those urban country/folk singers that play in the cowboy bars in Greenwich Village, or West Dallas, or East St. Louis, or North Platte Nebraska, or some city that starts with South, and I'd be tall, like I am, and skinny, like I was twenty years ago, and I'd wear a Cowboy Hat and frayed jeans, and I'd drawl, and my first name would be Dillard, which is odd because that was my father's first name, then again that wouldn't be so odd would it, it would be more like a homage to my dad, and besides Dillard, if nothing else would make a kick ass country/folk singer name, now wouldn't it.
Hold on a few minutes, I got off on a tangent and I have to re-collect my thoughts.
Anyway, I'd need a signature song, you know, the song I was almost famous for, and don't we all need a signature song, you know a song that just about sums up your life even if you aren't a singer, country/folk, or otherwise, and this would be my signature song, and don't forget to throw a little spare change in my guitar case, because I'm only playing for drinks and tips.

I think I should apologize for using the contraction Y'all earlier today. I guess it was my slightly more than one generation removed from The Grapes of Wrath roots showing through. NTTAWWI

Geez, this is the first post and I've already run out of things to say.
Yeah, but earlier I had all sorts of things to write about, and isn't that always the case.
It's like the guy who can't take a whiz in a public restroom when someone is using the urinal next to him. On second thought, it's nothing like that, but wouldn't it be cool to have a urinal in your own at home bathroom, with a splash guard and urinal cakes and everything.

Friday, November 07, 2003

And the winning entry for the Blogger Hoodie is ...

Y'all should check out Nada's journal. She writes rather well.
I love it when I'm prone to understatement.

I just drew the winning name for the Blogger Hoodie contest and they have been notified.
Once they confirm the email I have sent them I will post the winners name.
Hoorah, hoorah.

I just saw a clip of a Kirstin Dunst movie where she had short hair and had the hots for a male of the minority persuasion, and it just hit me ..
I had a girlfriend who looked just like Kirstin Dunst when I was thirteen years old.
Ok, she had acne, but so did I, but that doesn't change the fact that I used to make out with a celebrity look alike, and I bet none of you knew what a powerful aphrodisiac Clearasil is.

Fill In The Blank
1. If I could be any teenage celebrity I would like to be ____.
2. If I could change places with another blogger I would change places with ____.
3. Boz ____.
4. Rock, paper, scissors, ____.
5. I wish I'd been a ____ when I was in school.
6. I wish my ____ was bigger.
7. I wish my ____ was smaller.
8. I fantasized about ____ the last time I masturbated.
9. Jesus Christ! Did somebody just ____ in here?
10. Dumber than a bag full of ____.

Answers may be more than one word long.

I've just finished my final rounds of blog reads today, and there was some very good stuff, most of it provided by me, but yeah, I was satisfied, but some of you people scare me, but I digress.
Good night.
Ok, I may stay up a little longer and surf some porn the Library of Congress website.
Let me leave you with this ...
There is no sense like nonsense
and I can't believe I just thought that up on the spur of the moment, at 2 in the morning, it's so very Twainsian, or Pepysian, or Marxian, Grouchoian, not Karlian.

Extra Extra Extra
Live nude photos of Kevynn Malone aka Fat Free Milk at Monique's Place.
Big deal, he's not nude, and he's barely alive, sue me.

Big day Friday.
I should reach 30,000 hits.
I have to go to the post office and pick up a box to mail the hoodie to the winner of the win a hoodie contest.
I have to draw a winner for the win a hoodie contest, and I think my next contest will be
Win A Date With Bozzie Contest,
or Maybe Win a Date With One of The Two Coreys Contest,
or Maybe Win a Date With Both of The Two Coreys Contest,
or Maybe Win A Date With Bozzie and Both of The Two Coreys Contest,
or Maybe Just Win A Date With Davey Jones Contest.
Oh yeah, and I have to get up around noon-ish to one-ish and that would be in the PM.

Thursday, November 06, 2003

I just had a depressing thought. More people know me as boz than they do by my real name.
I guess the only solution is to change my name to boz

Oh yeah, before I forget.
I'd like to thank both Cuddles
Sullivan for the interview in
Online Dairies, or Diaries, or whatever they're calling it today.

Scanner pics are people too
I found this in the bargain bin today for fifty cents.

I call him Count Bozula, he was also born without a uvula.

If you want to find out just how obnoxious I can be when I put my mind to it
check out the interview I did for Online Diaries, and how come whenever I see that I want to say Online Dairies.

Ok, I'm getting pissed, I really am.
Am I the only person who updates their blog.
Chris sakes, all his friends get to call him Chris,
I mean c'mon, I'm bored, I need frequent updates.
Blah, blah, blah, I'm out of here.

Weeeeeeeee doggies,
as my hero Jed Clampett used to say.
It's a beautiful fall day out there, all crisp and sunshiny and stuff.
So guess who is going out for a ride, and a late lunch or an early dinner, and if you call a late breakfast and an early lunch brunch, what do you call a late lunch and an early dinner ....
That sounds so Scandinavian.
But I could go for some ludafisk,
or whatever the proper way to spell it is.
I've had this strange craving for it since last night.
But, I digress .... baby!!!

Things I need at 6 in the morning, sort of.
1. Land, lots of land.
2. Burger/plain with mustard, fries and a diet Coke.
3. Peace, love and understanding.
4. An eighter from Decatur
5. The Young Rascals Greatest Hits.
6. A reason to believe.
7. Doughnuts, doughnuts, and more doughnuts.
8. Milla Jovovich's home phone number.
9. Someone to watch over me.
10. Milky pens, I just can't get enough milky pens, don't laugh, it borders on an obsession. Milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens,
milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, milky pens, oh yeah, and a couple of aspirin.

Bloody Angels (1998)
753 MYSTERY: Thursday, November 6 12:35 AM
1998, R, **, 01:40, Color, Norway,
An Oslo detective travels to a remote town to investigate the murder of a man suspected of raping and killing a girl who has Down's syndrome.

In Norway this is considered a comedy, no really, it is.
And does anyone know the name of that pickled fish that Norwegian's are so fond of.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

Things I Saw At The Gym Today
1. A kid with red food color dyed streaks in his hair, and nobody was pointing and laughing at him.
2. A guy wearing what looked like pajama bottoms looking vaguely sociopathic.
3. A chubby Oriental kid who thought he was Jet Li, but looked more like Jumbo Jet Li.
4. Two girls playing volleyball, and I can never see volleyball girls without waxing nostalgic about the hours I spent in Japan watching the Japanese soap opera called
Volleyball Girls where the volleyball girls never played volleyball, but spent all their time crying about how mean their coach was, and backbiting the other girls in the volleyball girls dormitory, and doesn't that conjure up some images of forbidden love!!!
Excuse me if this post seems kind of convoluted,but I am trying to watch a movie that just came on about ....
Volleyball Girls !!!
nah, it's about the war in Bosnia, I think.

I've just added the webrings and fanlistings that I belong to at the bottom of the right hand column.
Lucky me.
Lucky you.
Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco.

She has nothing to hide.

Notice my wry comment on her flat chestedness, not that there is anything wrong with it.
Some of my best fantasies have involved flat chested femmes.

Check out my new drop down menu clock under my zonkboard.
I just did a few customizations tonight, but will be adding most everyone I can think of tomorrow. If I didn't add you it's because I didn't know your time zone, or my sleep encrusted eyes couldn't focus any longer, so just let me know if you want to be added.

For the person who either is or isn't turned on by my glasses.
This is for you.

Please, any orgasms should be confined to the sanctity of your own bedroom.

Tuesday, November 04, 2003

An Open Letter to My Female Readers
Dear Female Readers,
Ok, I stumbled across Tony Pierce's blog the other day, totally by accident because I don't read that type of blog.
Anyway, after I got there I read one of his posts, again totally by accident.
It turns out that he gets a lot of pics, you know pics ... wink, wink, wink,
from his female readers.
Well ???
I'm waiting.
I mean they don't even have to be pics of you, just pretend that they are.
I'm still waiting.
Ok, yeah I know some of you have sent me pics ... wink, wink, wink,
but what have you done for me lately ???
I'm still waiting.
Thanks in advance.
Yours truly,

If I HAD to be an actor/celebrity, I would like to be Jean Reno.
Nah, I think I'd rather be Shemp Howard, cause he gets all the chicks.

My brand new combination lava lamp and CD holder.

My old lava lamps with no CD holders.

Isn't cutting edge technology a thing to behold.

Man, I really hate cats.

But I love dogs.

I have been swamped with entries to the Win a Blogger Hoodie contest,
(See the Post Below)
so I am going to move the cutoff date to 3PM EST this Friday, and the drawing will be held sometime on Saturday. If you are one of the few who haven't entered, don't dawdle, hurry up and enter.
Man, I hate dawdler's.
One entry per person.
One Extra Large Blogger Hoodie

I woke up with a boner the size of the Alaska Pipeline this morning.
Film at Eleven.
I don't think I have ever typed the word boner before.
Boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner, boner.
There, I feel so empowered.

Has anyone happened to notice the weather box on my site.
Light fucking snow!!!
Just kill me now, better yet, don't.

Ok, in my Tell Me a Lie section someone wrote that they are not turned on by my glasses, which means they are turned on by my glasses, and isn't it always the story of my life that when someone is turned on by some part of me, no matter how inconsequential a part of me it is, the person who is turned on to it remains a mystery to me.
Don't toy with my emotions, who isn't, which means who is, turned on by my glasses.
Of course, if it is a guy I'd rather not know.

Monday, November 03, 2003

I'm still sick, but not sick enough that I couldn't go out and spend the day bargain shopping, and man I got some good 'uns too, but I am too tired to write about them, so I am going to bed, and I hope the bag of Halloween Hershey Assorted Miniatures that I ate on the 70 mile drive home, well that and the 64 ounce Diet Fountain Coke that I drank on the 70 mile drive home, doesn't make me restless.

50 Posts In 50 Hours
Since blogging traffic is way down over the weekend I am going to try something new.
In the grand tradition, of 100 things about me, I won't post until I get 20 comments, and the 50,000 word novel in 30 days, I give you ...
50 posts in 50 hours.
In the time period from 10PM Friday night until 12:01AM Monday I will attempt to make 50 posts to The Grand Ennui. It is not a post an hour, it is just 50 posts in the 50 hour time frame.
Feel free to join me in my pursuit of blogging immortality, or immorality, I'm copacetic with either one.
I get the best ideas at 4 in the morning, don't I.

A Xmas Drawing
When Blogger discontinued Blogger Pro, they made it up to the subscribers by sending us one of these.
I have no use for this.
I would never wear it, and it would just take up space in my closet.
So here is what I am going to do ...
I am going to have a drawing to give it away to one of my lucky readers.
I haven't worked out all of the details yet, but anyone who is interested just send me an email at:
Entries will be accepted until the first part of December and the winner will receive his prize in time for Xmas.
The hooded sweatshirt, I can't bring myself to call it a hoodie, is exactly as described in the link, and the size is XL, but it looks a little small.
In a few days I will be posting the info on the right hand side of the page, but you can go ahead and enter now, and the entries must be sent to:
You do not have to include your mailing address, I will email the winner after the drawing for their address, if they don't respond in a timely manner, I will have another drawing.
Entries posted in my comments, or on IM or on my zonkboard will not be accepted.
I will draw the winners name out of a hat, or maybe I'll draw it out of the hood of the sweatshirt.