My goal is to make everyone feel like they have walked in on the middle of the movie.
Friday, January 31, 2003
A half hour till February, be still my heart, and hat's off to January while we are at it. I don't think I could make it through another year without January, and does that make as much sense as I meant it to make, or do I digress in my ramblings.
Ramblin' Jack Elliot the Brooklyn cowboy, Woody Guthrie wannabe, before there was even such a term, and by the way, how is Arlo doing these days, I worry about the man, the 50/50 chance of Hodgkin's, must be a burden to carry, and a road to hoe, and a bunch of other folksie-isms thrown in, honey-babe. Ummm, change that Hodgkin's to Huntington's. I make one mistake, one little bitty mistake in 15 years of blogging, and Billy can't let it slide, geeeeeez.
Ok, this is almost as good a search query as "Barbie goth slut in dr martens."
Big fat weiner dogs.
I'm not sure if that is a double entendre, or even a single entendre, or just someone who likes ...
BIG FAT WEINER DOGS My life is sad, my only enjoyment is checking out the weird search engine queries I get and then laughing like a giddy schoolgirl, so sue me.
The sound of coyotes howling in the distance is the most godforesaken, lonliest sound known to man. When I used to take my ex-dog Benny on his midnight walks we would both stop, perk up our ears and listen to the coyotes, pronounced coyot minus the e, across the lake, but don't get me started on Benny, or I'll get all Mr. Bojangles on you. After twenty years he still grieves, after twenty years he still grieves.
Benny, dog for the ages.
Benny, dog for the ages, trying to hide from a thunderstorm.
I need a little Leonard Cohen for the soul tonight, and a dash for the psyche too.
I fought in the old revolution
on the side of the ghost and the King.
Of course I was very young
and I thought that we were winning;
I can't pretend I still feel very much like singing
as they carry the bodies away.
The preceding lyrics generated by the Random Leonard Cohen Lyrics Generator.
In the midst of a Nyquil induced quasi-stupor, half brother of quasi-modo, no shoes, no shirt, no service.
Was it Esmerelda, the squeeze that brought modo to his knees?
Cough, cough, wheeze, wheeze, not quite a sneeze, vous ne voyez pas.
Screw it, hack it, who cut the cheese?
The keyholes have eyes, and the ayes have it, motion passed, emotion denied.
Look's like I am coming down with another cold, and it's not fair, because there are plenty of people who haven't had their first one yet, and they might think I am cutting in front of them in line, but that isn't the case, I don't want another cold, honest, and if I could I would auction this one off on eBay, no reserve, buy now, buy bonds, by-by hasta leugo, baby. I speak Spanish like a native, a native of the midwest, all uptight and white with a nasal drone.
Wtf, all the comments from January 29th have disappeared.
Don't worry boz, they'll be back. You really think so?
Trust me. Your name isn't Pop is it?
Why? Because my pop told me to never trust anyone named Pop.
No, this is the voice of your conscience. You mean ...
Yep, Frank Sinatra. Could you sing a couple bars of Moon River?
That was Andy Williams you putz. Sorry, I've gotten the two of you mixed up since the time I fell off the truck.
Welp, Dino and Sammy are calling, I'm outta here. Hey, is it true what they say about Juliet Prowse and Jill St. John?
It's the Perchville USA Winter Festival this weekend. C'mon up, I'll show you a good time. We could even try the nude polar bear swim. It's not really nude, but what the heck, I live to push the envelope.
Boz Cam is back online, you can either get the cam in a pop-up window, or click on the [online] button and get forwarded to a page with the cam and a chatroom. The first person to catch me picking my nose on cam wins a prize, contact me for details, and I hope picking my nose is the worst thing I get caught doing.
Weirdest item I have seen on auction at eBay:
An aeresol can of Bactine that a young woman had used to "pleasure" herself.
It was gag bid up to several thousand dollars before she pulled it off because she knew the winning bidder would renege and she was afraid she would get stuck with a fairly large sellers fee.
It just started snowing, and getting crappy and slick outside. I guess I got home just in time, I guess. So I have my new cordless mouse and new desk, and the two new self stick bulletin boards that I bought from the buck store today, except they didn't cost a buck, they cost two bucks, but that's okay because I saw the exact same bulletin board at another store for $13.99, to keep me occupied.
I also got what is probably my last xmas present in the mail today from my prodigal nephew in Florida. He sent me a Stetson cologne gift set, only problem is I never wear cologne, I prefer the scent of my natural hubris, and maybe I should have looked up the definiton of hubris before I typed it, but I didn't, but it still fits, sort of, so I am leaving it in, and come to think of it prodigal doesn't really fit either, but does kind of, so I am also leaving that in, but getting back to my original train of thought, I gave the cologne a try before I went out and it's not half bad, so since I have it, I'll use it, and try not to flaunt it.
I've added a streaming cam. I stole the idea from ChezPink, her's is much easier on the eyes, but that's life, you can check mine out if you want, and while you're doing that I'll be checking her's out.
I've had my share of big time pain, things like herniated disks, hypothyroidism, and some other stuff, and for the most part big time pain doesn't bother me that much, you learn to accept it and cope, but god, for the life of me, the little nit picky stings, scrapes, cuts, blisters, abrasions, etc, just drive me up the wall. I am sitting here with two blisters on one finger, two finger nails that were trimmed a bit too close, and an abrasion where I bit the inside of my lower lip and have since re-bitten at least four times today, and you would think I was ready to have the plug pulled and be taken off life support. Give me some friggin' morphine, and lace it with a couple of Little Debbie snack cakes, pain makes me hungry, go figure. You don't care, my suffering means nothing to you. You probably take some perverse pleasure in my pain, ya bunch of freaks!!!!
Paranoia strikes deep
Into your life it will creep
It starts when you're always afraid
You step out of line, the man come and take you away
The preceding lyrics generated by the Random Buffalo Springfield Lyric Generator.
I ordered a Logitech Cordless Optical Mouse from Office Depot today. Along with the desk I bought yesterday that should take care of about half of the xmas money that I had left. I have no idea what to do with the rest of the xmas money. Anybody know any wild women, who are cheap, in more ways than one?
Taking my blistered fingers and my abrased lip and going to bed, the place where I do all my best work, and I don't care how you take that, just don't forget to leave a tip, and yes, there is such a word as abrased, because I just looked it up, so don't hate me because I am semi-literate.
I got the new desk, no problem getting it in the trunk. It's all put together with only two blisters and one bit lip. I'll be setting it up tomorrow, because I have to do a little re-arranging of furniture and other ... stuff.
Here's the deal. I am going up to Kmart because they have a computer desk on clearance for 30 bucks. My only problem is will I be able to fit the box in the trunk of my car. The box has to be smaller than 38 inches in length, or width, or depth, or whatever, because that is the size of my trunk opening, and how can I remember the number 38?
I don't like to argue, so I don't, and that pisses people off, and it makes them angry and loud, and out of control, and I win by just by raising an eyebrow and rolling my eyes, but I always get the last word in, I do, always, it never fails, I'm almost compulsive about it, I am compulsive about it, where was I, the last word, is mine, again, I win, you lose, rolling my eyes and walking away, good-by, for real this time, adios, sayonara, arrivederci baby ... baby.
Have to fold clothes today, don't envy my exciting lifestyle.
I'm finished. I just have time to check my lotto ticket and then off to the Ritz for lunch with the Rockefeller's.
If I hit it big, mo-peds for everyone.
I had a new visitor to the blog today, and he left a couple of comments, so naturally I checked out his blog. Turns out he is a lawyer named Billy, and he is a partner in the law firm Billy, Tommy, Skippy, and Scooter. C'mon what kind of name is Billy for a lawyer? If I ever need a lawyer I want someone who's name can strike fear into the heart of any judge, jury, baliff, witness, or drugstore cowboy in the juriprudence system, how about Bruno, or Thor, or Rock, or Hulk, wait a second, I'm thinking about wrestlers not lawyers, Billy will be fine.
If you could have dinner with five other people, past or present, fact or fiction, famous or not, who would they be, and for extra credit what would you have for dinner?
1. Mark Twain
2. Helen Keller
3. Abraham Lincoln
4. Charles Manson's mother
5. Donnie Most, Ralph Malph from Happy Days
Dinner would be the 15 Piece Meal from KFC, both original and extra crispy. Helen clams up if she doesn't get her extra crispy, the bitch. A side of slaw. A side of wedges. A side of baked beans, remind me not to sit next to Lincoln. 3 Pepsi's, One diet Mr Pibb, and one bourbon with branch water, Twain is such a lush.
Hmmm, looks like we have a love connection, Twain and Charlie's mother are really hitting it off, if you know what I mean.
Could be trouble here. Helen Keller just called Donnie Most an imbecile for leaving Happy Days, and she did it in sign, damn, that's harsh.
I really think Kevynn Malone is stalking me, but hopefully not in a sexual way, but in a brain sucking kind of way. It seems that whenever I visit a blog and go to make one of my world famous humorous comments Kevynn has already been there one step ahead of me.
Hold on a second, I need to think ...
Wouldn't that make me the stalker?
I no wear u live, drooooooooooool, snort.
U is my best freind, let's hang out and listen to Beachboy songs.
If u sea some guy walking down the street smiling and drooling, snort, drooooooooool, for no reason , that is me.
I have a gun, but don't worry I probably won't use it, I only bought it to scare the mice who run around in my brain, but you've been running around in my brain lately too, doing the chicken dance in green leotards and a sailor's hat, so I'm not too sure what ...
Huh, what, where am I??
Sorry I must have blacked out for a minute, where was I.
My ten favorite Italian Operas in no particular order are ....
Something something witty. The dreaded glib comment. Nonsensical barb. Pointed and irrereverent squib. Sly but wry aside. Bon mot, non sequitar, and a bunch of other meaningless french phrases. (I speak french so tragically.)
Orientals are having sex on my television, and the women is sad, because the man is leaving, but it is a nice hotel, so maybe she can, I dunno, watch a movie or something.
She is Korean. I wonder if she knows Hawkeye, BJ and the rest of the zany crew from M*A*S*H*. That Klinger he cracks me up.
No Koreans what-so-ever were harmed in the filming of this post.
I got a really bad haircut last week. The kind of haircut only a hat or a full body cast can save, and then only if you keep to the shadows. No, I'm serious, it looks like one of those haircuts that one of those guys in an 80's English quasi-new wave, neo-art noveau bands would get, but they'd do it on purpose, but why, heck, I don't know ... third base!
Here is something I first posted on STS about a week ago.
I don't understand Sarah B and Que Sara Sara. I don't mean to be negative, but what the fuck ... She makes a three word post and she gets 45 comments.
Here is an actual post and some of the comments that I found in her actual archives, honest.
Post - Today is Saturday
1.Wow, that is so insightful, where do you come up with these gems?
2. Sarah, your last post brought to mind so many Saturdays of my youth. The trees, the sun, the ground, the water, the air, did I mention the sun ... forgive me while I go brew a cup of Earl Grey and curl up in a chair.
3.Once again you hit the nail right on the head. DAMN, IT IS SATURDAY!!!
4.Sarah you RAWK GRRRL!
5.Sarah that reminds me of a post I made a few months back, but of course not nearly as eloquently as you. May I share it? "Today is Friday."
6.Glub glub glub, sigh, glub glub glub, sigh.
7.Too true Sarah Baby, too true.
8. Listen up people, one day when Sarah is famous, if she isn't already, we'll be able to say we knew her when. Laughing, like a giddy schoolgirl.
You get the drift. Am I jealous? Of course I am, but still ... geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez!!!!!
Should I write about the fan club I started for myself in High School?
Should I write about losing it, you know my v-i-r-g-i-n-i-t-y?
Should I write about the time I spent on a Georgia chain gang?
Should I write about my Fender guitar that I could only play one song on, (Surfer Girl) and that I recently sold for 2000 bucks?
Should I write about how I was up for the part of Fonzie on Happy Days but was beaten out by Henry Winkler, wait that wasn't me that was Mickey Dolenz. I keep getting the two of us mixed up.
Should I write about the time I saw basketball legend Cazzie Russell at the airport and I waved at him, and said "hi Cazzie" and he ignored me, the rat bastard?
Should I write about telling Roy Orbison to lose the shades?
Should I write about how it was actually me, and not Yoko Ono, who broke up the Beatles, and how the five of us were playing truth or dare, and Ringo, Richie to his friends, picked dare and I said " I dare you to break up the band," and so they did, and if you don't believe me, check out the unauthorized Biography of the Beatles written by Emporer Haile Selassie of Ethiopia, entitled Boz and the Beatles, of course it is written in Ethiopian or whatever language they use in Ethiopia, and it is probably out of print too, but you could check out Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble, just to make sure, is that what you want, really?
This is very strange. If you look in the left hand margin you will see that I am a member of blogLinker, which is a pretty cool idea, my god I almost typed kewl idea. blogLinker is a service that's an easy way to add links to your site, and if the person you link to is also a member of blogLinker you will also be added to their link list. Do I sound like an advertisement? Anyway, a new site just linked to me, and for the life of me I don't understand why he or she would want to link to my site. It is political and computer hip, something I am neither of, oh yeah, I forgot to mention, it's also in Spanish. It's bizarre, but I dig it. Makes me wish I would have paid more attention in 9th grade Spanish class.
Today is two for tuesday at the video store, I think I'll rent a couple DVD's. I'll let you know what develops as it develops. This is so exciting. If you have any suggestions let me know before 1pm EST. I mean rental suggestions, not suggestions of what I can do with this blog, I've tried it and it isn't possible, on second thought if you have any suggestions on what I can do with this blog, let me know, I am a bit more limber than I used to be, so who knows. I am trying to make run-on sentences an art form.
If I were a sixteen year old girl I think I'd want to be like The Donnas.
The Donnas, if I were a sixteen year old girl I'd want to be like them, and if I were a sixteen year old boy I'd want to be with them, and if I were a sixteen year old boy and a sixteen year old girl I'd be a 32 year old hermaphrodite.
I have 79 hits from someone using the search engine query "ennui". What does this tell me? It tells me that someone really, really, likes my site, but isn't internet saavy enough to bookmark my site, or maybe is at work and can't bookmark my site. Of course it could be more than one person, or just random hits, but I don't think 79 random hits for "ennui" is very likely. No, it is one or at most a couple of people. Maybe they should get together and start a fan club for me, and they could spread the word about the "essence of boz," and I could become the next big internet celebrity, I could become as famous as Wil "Friggin" Wheaton, and we could stage a BozFest at the Marriott near the airport in Buffalo or Long Beach, and there could be merchandising, and symposiums, and people who knew me when could talk about knowing me when, and I could hire my relatives to perform superfluous, (damn I love that word) but high paying tasks, and, and, and, and, all sorts of other good STUFF!!!!!
I think I need a brain enema. Good night everyone. (waving like the guy with the boombox, that doesn't boom, who stands at the entrance to the interstate, on tuesdays and thursdays between the hours of 11am and 5pm, just so his mother can have a little time to herself)
I think I'm going to write a song, or maybe a haiku, or maybe a palindrome, or maybe a dirge, or a gregorian chant, or a thesis, or a credo, or a spiel, or someone else's wedding vows, or an anthem, no, no, I think I'll stick with a song, a blues song, an urban blues song, and call it Boz's Blues, let me see if I can find my axe, all urban bluesmen need an axe, and I call my axe Doreen, and you can call me Boz Lemon Jefferson, but just don't call me till morning.
I am like a sponge and my blog, (sponge blog) and the way I write, and what I post, (square posts) is influenced by the blogs I read. So if you are offended by anything I write, you have only yourself to blame.
I am also easily distracted by bright, shiny objects.
According to pdw I have bollocks. Hold on a second I'm going to check. This won't take long, I promise.
(zip-ppppppppppppppp, hmmmmmmmmm, ahhhhhhhhh, whoaaaaaaaaaa)
Yep, I do, and surprisingly they still work.
I had tickets to see the Doors in concert in Detroit just before I went into the Air Force back in 1969, but Morrison was busted in Miami for supposedly masturbating on stage during a performance a few nights earlier, and the concert was cancelled. (Insert masturbation joke here, because I'm going to bed to try and I'm going to try to duplicate Morrison's magical night in Miami. Or am I?)
Forget I just posted this, or should you, and who am I trying to impress, and other desultory philippics.
It's official. According to both the beauty parlor and barbershop in town, we are getting a Wal-mart, and if you can't believe the people who work on your hair, who can you believe, the church, the government, your friends, your family, the Monkee's, yeah the Monkees for sure, if only I could play the drums like Mickey Dolenz, I could die a happy man.
starting in the top row, l-r
The smart one;
The funny one; the dumb, but lovable one;
and sighhhhhhhhhhhhh, the heart throb.
Hey, hey, they're the Monkees
Chrissakes, all this talk about Rosie O'Donnell made me have a dream about her last night. We were sitting on a train, eating hot dogs and doughnuts and the train was about to go through a tunnel when I looked at Rosie and, and, and ... nah, I made that part up, but I did have a dream about her, and I did wake up in a cold sweat too.
I once had a poem I wrote included in a college poetry rag. The poem was called Nagasaki, Saturday Night and it was about being drunk in Nagasaki, on a ... Saturday night, which I was once, and hence the inspiration for the poem. I don't remember too much about the poem, or the Saturday night in Nagasaki, I only wrote it for a creative writing course I was taking. There was one line that went something like ... she wore her scars like medals, while he wore his scars like scars. I mean, I don't even like poetry, unless there's a girl from Nantucket in it.
According to a poll taken by RetroCrushBetty Rubble is ranked number 2 out of the 50 sexiest cartoon babes of all time. Jinkies, she didn't even make my top fifty sexiest cartoon babes of the stone age, and just remember Betty Rubble was played by Rosie O'Donnell in the first Flintsones movie, and Rosie O'Donnell is one of the only women in the world, not related to me, that has never made me put my hand in front of my jeans in embarrassment.
It's about time to post another pic of my favorite actress, the wonderfully talented, and awkwardly beautiful Jennifer Jason Leigh.
The wonderfully talented and awkwardly beautiful Jennifer Jason Leigh, preparing to take a French Shower, the only worthwile thing the French have given us besides the Statue of Liberty, French Fries, and the French Kiss.
I wrote a country song a long time ago. It was called, All I Ever Wanted Was Your Love, But All You Ever Gave Me Was A Hard-On. Actually, I only wrote part of a song. Honestly, I only wrote a title. The title was, All I Ever Wanted Was Your Love, But All You Ever Gave Me Was A Hard-On. I think I'd better stop before this becomes deja vu all over again. all over again. all over again.
Yup, it's that Aortal time again and for your internet viewing pleasure I bring you:
The Grand Ennui, Not Just For Breakfast Anymore
He's crass, he's opinionated, he's rude, he uses *gasp* swear words (!).
Hold on, that doesn't sound so good does it?
Actually he had me laughing out loud. And no, I don't mean the silent lol of the cyber-verse. It was the type of laughing that made a noise.
I still do that from time to time you know.
If you're of a more genteel disposition I shouldn't go look.
But then again, go on.
You know you want to }:)"
I'm watching Guys and Dolls on Turner Classic. I wonder if there is a future in musical comedy?
(enter stage right singing and dancing) Luck be a lady tonight, Luck be a lady tonigh-ttttttttttt. (exit stage left singing and dancing)
People deal with death in different ways. When my father passed away, I got a couple of tattoo's and a nipple piercing. When my sister passed away last year my brother in law bought a 54 inch big screen tv, and a Harley Davidson which he is keeping in the family room till spring. Let me clear that up a bit. The big screen is in the living room, and the Harley is in the family room till spring, but he only starts the Harley up on special occasions. I don't know what would have upset my sister more, the big screen, the Harley, or the fact that he had an artificial tree for xmas. More power to him.
I have blog paranoia. (blog-anoia?)
All blogs are better than mine.
Fellow bloggers read, pity, scoff at, and dismiss my efforts.
No one actually reads my blog, they stumble in, realize where they are, and head to the nearest porn link to cleanse themselves.
I am funny, amn't I? This isn't the Round Table at the Algonquin, but it's not kiddie porn either.
Speaking of the Algonquin, Dorthy Parker was a real slut, but she was funny. My favorite Parker quote concerned Katherine Hepburn's acting ability. Opined Ms. Parker, "Katherine Hepburn runs the gamut of emotions from A to B."
But back to my blog-anoia ...
You are secretly jealous of me and masturbate while reading my blog, and no I am not masturbating while I am typing this, well not anymore.
I've been sick lately, I can't help it. I've been using that excuse all my life. It usually works.
Dammit, I was at Woodstock, and served in the 'Nam, at the same time, show me at least as much respect as you show Aretha Franklin.
I need a haircut, big deal, I'll get one tomorrow.
Skeet, bleat, and double skeet.
I found this bitchin' pic of Lori Petty as Tank Girl at this Tank Girl site.
Bitchin' pic of Lori Petty as Tank Girl, who happens to be the spitting image of the lead singer of No Doubt, who I know the name of, don't tell me, it's right on the tip of my tongue, but arrrrrrrrrghhhhhhh, I can't think of it right now, but I will eventually, probably right after I make this post. No, no, no, I got it now. It's Gwen Stefani.
Since I am feeling a whole lot better today I was planning on getting a haircut, but after combing my hair I discovered that it looked just like Cameron Diaz's hair after she treated it with Ben Stiller's man mousse in There's Something About Mary. So I'll just wait, take a shower tonight and do it tomorrow.
"Give me liberty, or give me the next most popular thing on the list."
"Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what your country can do for you, wait a minute that's not right. Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what your country did ... no that's still not right. Ask not what your country can do for you, and DON'T FORGET TO BOOGIE."
"I never met a man I didn't like, and I never met a women that I wouldn't like to ...."
I know that post was pretty weak, but I busted out laughing when I was going over it in my head, while laying in bed, and trying to fall back to sleep. Which in itself is unusual because I usually have sexual thoughts while laying in bed, and trying to fall back asleep, and sometimes even that makes me bust out laughing.
Am I the only one who watches Coronation Street, and admits it?
Well let's see how successful I am at getting some sleep tonight after sleeping for 24 hours straight earlier in the day.
G'night everybody. See ya on the flipside. Don't let the sun catch you crying. Do the funky chicken. Vernor's Ginger Ale, Faygo Red Pop, and a frosty mug of A&W Root beer.
When did Atlanta become so cool? Cripes, they even have there own blog ring, and for the most part they are even funny, or witty, or "gasp" the dreaded glib. I've driven through Atlanta on I-75, that should make me eligible, don't you think? Maybe if I list them on my links page they will make me an honorary Atlanta blogger, or maybe not. Here I always thought the phrase "The south will rise again." was sexual in nature, guess I was wrong. Too much sleep, too many meds, and too many thoughts of Pete Townsend wanking to kiddie porn, wanking but only wanking for research purposes, and there is honor in research, isn't there?
Peeking out through half closed, sleep encrusted eyes. "Is there anybody out there?"
I feel like I have just survived a nuclear holocaust and am just starting to pick up the pieces and start a new life.
Don't worry, it's just the meds and 24 hours plus of continuous sleep talking. I should be back to triple crown status in a few.
I hate it when people use their blogs to complain about how sick they are, but ...
I feel like dead puke, and I think I'm getting worse. Or maybe it's just the two dishes of Bear Claw ice cream I had tonight, or maybe it's the Alka-Seltzer with the Tums chaser, or maybe .....
Someone's at the door. I think it's my good friend Ralph-hhhhhhhhhhhh.
I like blogs with pics. I'm not particular what kind of pic. Personal pics are nice, and family pics too, and of course pics of the pets, Boo the dog, or Sassy the cat. Yeah, I guess I like pics of people and pets. Not too thrilled about vacation pics. The Eiffel Tower is way too phallic and the Grand Canyon is just the opposite. You can keep your vacation pics, put them in an album, and put them on a shelf, and dust them every month or so, and pull them out when Trish and Bill come over for coffee and cake, and just sort of pretend you don't see when Bill gives Trish that oh not again look. The coffee is French Vanilla and the cake is Sarah Lee, so they damn well better act like they are enjoying themselves, and not be too obvious when Trish complains about her headache and complains about how she hasn't been getting much sleep lately, what with the twins and their soccer practice, and Bill working all that overtime, yeah, you say to yourself, all that overtime at the NoTel Motel out by the interstate, with his secretary who can't type or take dictation, yeah she can't take dictation, but she sure can take di... Where was I? Oh yeah, I like blogs with pics, and do me a favor, slip in a naked one every once in awhile.
Boz, age 8
Go ahead, tell me how cute I was, everyone else does.
I wrote a nice piece on puke for STS today. You won't find me writing about puke in here, so if you are looking for a good puke story you'll have to check out STS. I don't know about you, but I can never get enough good puke stories. Give me a good puke story and a bottle of Midol, (Midol, yikes!), and I'm set for the evening. Midol, cause sometimes I get's the mentrual cramps real bad. For ten bonus point what movie was the following quote taken from. "Cause sometimes I get's the mentrual cramps real bad." The answer is ??? Yeah, I won't write about puke in here, but I will write about menstual cramps, something I have no first hand knowlege of, go figure.
As you can see from the link to the right, no left, no right, Superfluous Tube Socks is up and running. It is a new pop-culture forum/message board started by by Kevynn and myself. Like I said, the site is new, and there is very little there, but you are welcome to come give it a look. You might even consider joining up, all you need is a nickname and an email address. We welcome all posters, on any subject, but you must be a member to post. It is an adult forum, and there are no restrictions on content. Just use you own common sense. It might be kind of cool to get in on the start of something like this and see where we can take it. Hope to see you there, and if not, I curse the ground you walk on.
Man, am I ever out of the loop. I was just reading a blog where the guy said he got a lot of cheese for xmas and it took me a pause and a half before I realized he meant money. At first I thought he must be Scandanavian, and it was some weird fondue like custom or something.
Isn't this just amazing. I received my after xmas Discover Card statement today, and not only do I not owe them anything, I have a credit of $30.92. Snapple and doughnuts for everyone, but you are limited to one doughnut each, and they are the store brand generic equivalent to the Dolly Madison brand, I hope you don't mind, but it was only $30.92 credit.
There is some awful stank coming from my closet, and to be honest I am a little afraid to investigate. I know it can't be an animal, and I only keep clean clothes in there. It might be food, but I don't think so. Trouble is everything is jigsawed together in there, and I would have to take everything out and then put it back in, and if I didn't find anything I would be a little disappointed after spending all that time and effort searching for it. It's a bitch being anal-retentive.
I just checked the closet for smell, it didn't smell too bad. Then I happened to glance (happened to glance, wtf?) on the top shelf of my computer desk at the three yin/yang scented aromatherapy candles that I bought three for a buck at either the Dollar $tore, or the Family Dollar. Who knew that yin/yang scented aromatherapy candles were supposed to smell like closet stank, and what kind of therapy is that, paranoia-therapy?
I've had weiner dogs on my mind all day. Is that Freudian? Or do I just like dogs?
There have been some very interesting chats logged with my bot Annie. I'd like to share them with you, but they are really quite obscene. There is something strangely erotic about Annie, and at least two people want to have sex with her. Is that wrong?
I am such a maroon. I have been seeing all the headlines about this new film directed by Spike Jonze, and yeah you guessed it, I just assumed it was director Spike Lee. C'mon now, shouldn't there be a quota for the number of film directors named Spike, and shouldn't that quota be one, and by the way there was only one Spike Jonze and he spelled it Jones, and something stinks here, yeah, I smell a conspiracy, and something else stinks here, and I don't know what it is, but it's coming from the closet.
"My New Years Resolution is to not feed you bloggy-crap.
And to say, Penis. Tits. Fuck. Young. Old. Sucking. Mothers. Free. Iraq. Mac. Apple. MSN. Star Wars. Brittney Spears. Joe Millionaire. Download. Porn. Movies. Micheal Jackson. and. Anal.
In order to get more web hits."
Why didn't I think of that?
I would have probably said something dumb, like this:
Girls gone wild. Osama sucks. Anna Kournikova's butt. Nipple slip. Pac-man. LOTR rules. Lolita. Barely legal. Schoolgirl. Uniform. Daddy's girl. Slut. Celebrity skin. Bukkake. Save Farscape. Eminem sucks. Eninem rocks. Trailer park porn. Fat Free Milk. and. Weiner dogs.
Ya know something. All these well written blogs I have been reading lately, are pretty boring.
They are glib, and pithy, and insightful as hell, but where is their soul, where is their guts, where is their individuality, christ sakes, they could all be written by the same person.
Give me something with a sneer in it.
Give me something with a kick in the crotch in it.
Give me something with a hand grenade up the asshole feel.
Make me mad.
Make me laugh.
Make me hate your guts
Just don't give me pause to ponder and reflect.
Give me something with real attitude, not that pseudo if you don't like my attitude attitude you can kiss my ass attitude, but real attitude. If someone tells you they have attitude, consider the source.
Big dogs don't bark.
By the way, when someone is being sarcastic, and they feel the need to tell you they are being sarcastic, doesn't that defeat the purpose?
I got a phone call from the company that issued my VISA card tonight. That's the credit card I rarely use. Someone tried to use the card make a purchase on the internet last night, but VISA caught it because whoever it was didn't know the correct expiration date. I've purchased tons of stuff on the net, and I am sure I've used that card online in the past, but not for at least a year. VISA closed the account and wil be issuing me a new card, and yes I am sure that this wasn't some tele-marketing come on, because she had all the correct information, like the expiration date and the last four numbers to the card. That's the first time anything like that has ever happened to me. Will it stop me from shopping online, nah. Will it stop me from biting my nails, got ya, I don't bite my nails.
I want to thank everyone for all the insightful comments they have made in the past few days. I also want to thank the academy, and the people who make the funny hats out of used beer cans, god knows I couldn't have made it without you. I haven't left anyone out have I? Mom, Dad, Adolph, you know who you are, and of course Annie my bot, she is one hot automaton. You are indiffent to me, you really are indifferent to me. I love you all, and may god bless.
Attention all females in your early 40's to mid 50's. Are you widowed, divorced, or stuck in a loveless marriage, and burdened with disposable income? Let's talk. Contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Act now and I may even send you an autographed picture of my penis. Age limits flexible, depending on amount of disposable income. Doreen, is that you?
I've had a lot of weird dreams lately and if I wake up I might try to analyze a few of them. I don't think they are Freudian, nothing about being on a train and going through a tunnel sort of thing, just generally weird in a science fiction sort of way. Of course there was the one about me eating apple pie, a very old and stale apple pie. That could be considered Freudian, or even Jungian.
I've been checking out all my bookmarks, trying to seperate the wheat from the chaff, and don't we collect a lot of chaff while surfing the web. Here's one I found that is definately wheat.
WebWeirdness, is a collection of links to supposedly the weirdest stuff on the web. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.
I've added an erotic photo album entitled A Slightly Darker Shade. It's hosted by Image Station, which is owned by Sony, and I think you have to register with them to view the album, but it's harmless and free, and there aren't many things left in the world that are both harmless and free. If you like slightly kinky and erotic images check it out, if you don't, skip it. The password is ennui
I shaved without nicking myself. I mean not a single nick, nada, none, zilch, zero to the nth power. Next time I'll use a blade.
When I was about seventeen I nicked my tongue while shaving, and I was using an electric shaver.
I just downloaded River Deep, Mountain High as recorded by Ike and Tina Turner and produced by Phil Spector. This is Spector's "Wall of Sound" at it's best. The record bombed in the states, but was a huge hit in England. This is the ultimate pop song of the 60's. Tina Turner laid everything on the line, and Ike sat in the corner brooding about his total lack of control in the production. I wonder who paid for that?
Severin's Fantasy: Part Two.
Nightmare Fantasy Fantasy Nightmare Nightmare Fantasy Fantasy Nightmare Nightmare Fantasy Fantasy Nightmare Nightmare Fantasy Fantasy Nightmare Nightmare Fantasy Fantasy Nightmare Nightmare Fantasy Fantasy Nightmare
Poor Severin, he must be on his knees in heaven and hell.
heaven and hell heaven and hell heaven and hell heaven and hell heaven and hell heaven and hell
According to Jim Bouton, in his seminal baseball tell-all Ball Four, one of his former managers favorite expression was "shitfuck". It was neither "shit" or "fuck". It was "shitfuck." It was "shitfuck" this and "shitfuck" that. I have no point other than this is the first time I have used either the word "shit" or "fuck" in my blog, and since I was quoting, it doesn't really count. It's also the first time I have ever used the word seminal.
Seminal, hehehe, well shitfuck this and shitfuck that.
FZ: Suzy Creamcheese?
FZ: This is the voice of your conscience baby, uh . . . I just want to check one thing out with ya, you don't mind, do ya?
FZ: Suzy Creamcheese, honey, what's got into ya?
The movie The Slums of Beverly Hills is on WE in a few minutes. It's a great title. I wonder if the movies any good? I think I'll watch it. Just don't tell anyone it's on the Women's Entertainment network. I'm secure in my masculinity, but I've been sick lately.
Natasha Lyonne in The Slums of Beverly Hills.
Natasha Lyonne in The Slums of Beverly Hills. You could replace the m with a t, and no one would be the wiser.
I just got back from the Dollar $tore. I bought some duct tape, some bungee cords, and some clamps. I'm either going to re-stock my toolbox, or re-stock my toy chest.(wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know what I mean, know what I mean, say no more, say no more)
Johnny's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
I'm on the pavement
Thinking about the government
The man in the trench coat
Badge out, laid off
Says he's got a bad cough
Wants to get it paid off
Look out kid
It's somethin' you did
God knows when
But you're doin' it again
You better duck down the alley way
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten
Maggie comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin' that the heat put
Plants in the bed but
The phone's tapped anyway
Maggie says that many say
They must bust in early May
Orders from the D. A.
Look out kid
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don't try "No Doz"
Better stay away from those
That carry around a fire hose
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You don't need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows
Get sick, get well
Hang around a ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin' to sell
Try hard, get barred
Get back, write braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Join the army, if you fail
Look out kid
You're gonna get hit
But users, cheaters
Hang around the theaters
Girl by the whirlpool
Lookin' for a new fool
Don't follow leaders
Watch the parkin' meters
Ah get born, keep warm
Short pants, romance, learn to dance
Get dressed, get blessed
Try to be a success
Please her, please him, buy gifts
Don't steal, don't lift
Twenty years of schoolin'
And they put you on the day shift
Look out kid
They keep it all hid
Better jump down a manhole
Light yourself a candle
Don't wear sandals
Try to avoid the scandals
Don't wanna be a bum
You better chew gum
The pump don't work
'Cause the vandals took the handles
What a chump. What a maroon. What an infidel. I saw Jerry Garcia at Burger King today. I think he was there to give Elvis a lift home. I think I am staying home today except to return some empty POP bottles to the Piggly Wiggly.
You're the best friend I have Miss Daisy.
I think the fatter Dan Ackroyd gets the better actor he becomes, better being a relative term.
Speaking of relatives, Tom Hank's brother Jim Hanks was the star of the pseudo soft core T&A classic Buford's Beach Bunnies. Jim Hanks, of course, played Buford Jeeter, a man in search of losing his virginity, huh, you say! In english that would be ... a man on a quest to lose his virginity.
Something is wrong, very wrong. I know a few celebrities keep and maintain their own blog, like Wil Wheaton, and Joe Rogan, but I just ran across a blog supposedly written by Mr. T, and something seems vaguely familiar about it. You tell me.
So what do I do now? I don't have anything to complain about. My blog is fixed, my cold is just about cleared up, and I'm as happy as a clam in heat. So what do I do now? Life is just one big decision after another, isn't it. Read any good books? Seen any good movies? Heard any new music? Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah. The serenity is deafening.
"I bet Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole, not like you."
The preceding song lyric was provided by the Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lover's random lyric generator.
Ladies and Gentlemen without further ado ... Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers.
The Modern Lovers, after Picasso left the band due to artistic differences.
I just found out that Tony Baloney has linked to me, so I thought I'd better check out his site. I think he is gay, not merely festive, which is cool because now I can tell people I have a gay friend on the net and feel slightly superior to them because of my candor, frankness, and liberal views. I wonder if he fantasizes about me late at night?
Are my pics getting too weird, or is it just me? I'd hate to offend anyone (ch'yeah). I've got a couple envelope pushers that I really like, but am hesitant to post them. No nudity, just kinky and weird. I am trying to keep this a pg-13 site, so there will be no nudity unless you can find where I've hidden it. I must be getting over my cold, I'm getting cryptic again, or am I.
Still sick, but at least I took a shower, so I'll leave a clean corpse.
boz, clean, combed, minus glasses, but still dumb enough to take a shower.
boz, promise me you'll bury me in black.
For all of you who were worried that I looked like crap in the above pic, don't be. I manipulated that pic in photoshop for sympathy, I'm not above doing that, you know. Here is the originial pic, pre-manipulation.
Geez, not really much to chose from, is there. Mostly I picked this photo because you can't see the giant bald spot on the right back side of my head that is a topographically correct mirror image of the Great Salt Lake. I can just imagine all my Mormon readers swelling with pride at my mention of the Great Salt Lake. Are Mormons allowed to swell with pride, I know they can't drink beverages containing caffeine.
I guess I've sort of run out of hot looking celebrities, that I like, to post, so I am just going to start posting hot looking femmes that catch my attention.
Ewa Witkowska, pronounced Eva, I guess.
Ewa (pronounced Eva, I guess) Witkowska, I think she is a model, (duh) of central or eastern european heritage.
The sulking peasant girl look is tres chic for 2003. Trust me, I know. I browse Vogue while in the check-out line, 10 items or less, at the grocery store.