Corner Booth

Why would anyone ever want to do shots out of Mrs. Buttersworth?

You ever watch a movie you've seen a thousand times and caught something you've never noticed before? Or listened to your favorite song and heard a line that just stopped you cold in your tracks? That totally just happened to me while watching, "High Fidelity." It's far and away my favorite movie of all time and I've watched it countless times, but I just heard a soliloquy that I never payed attention to and I was kinda taken aback. Maybe some of you won't get it, but those of you who do will understand. Rob (John Cusack) has an epiphany while sitting in the rain (Bob Dylan's "Most of the Time" playing in the background):

"I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things. Like thinking about my future. And I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing. Keep my options open. And that's suicide...by tiny, tiny increments."

Once again, John Cusack's wisdom lights the way.
Much Love,
Bo

So I almost sold out. Blogger, the fine people who allow me to run this site, now have a program in which you can get paid for blogging if you allow ads to run on your site. As I read about this opportunity I realized, "Hey, I like blogging," and then, moments later, "Hey, I like money," it seemed like a match made in heaven, but then I started overthinking the situation (as I've been known to do from time to time). First, Blogger decides which ads get put on your site. I immediately cringed at the thought of "Corner Booth: brought to you by Massengill Extra Cleansing Douche." Of course it didn't stop there. I would, obviously, have to start wearing "Massengill" scrubs to work (for fear that there would be sponsor battles and fines for wearing my standard 'Life' scrubs) and would have to begin signing off with: "Much Love, and remember, Massengill is formulated to match the pH range of healthy women. Trust Massengill to help you feel completely clean and fresh. Bo". Then there are the PR appearances with the cheap Massengill backdrop in which I wear a Massengill trucker's hat and a shiny red Massengill jacket with gold lettering across the back, holding up said product and smiling for the poparazzi. Next, some smart-ass reporter asks me how often I, myself, douche and I admit that I have never actually used Massengill Extra Cleansing Douche. A whirlwind of bad publicity follows, Massengill drops me as a spokesman, and I find myself broke and without a blog to kill time with. Next thing you know I'm living on the streets, peddling my homemade brand of Douche that I made from Windex and cat urine. Some stupid kid gets into mommy's medicine cabinet, drinks the "douche" and I get sued cuz he goes blind. Then I go to jail, well no thanks Blogger, you vendors of Pandora's Box. I'm on to you.
As if that weren't enough, I then realized that by getting paid for blogging I would relinquish my "amateur" status, and, thereby, would no longer be eligible for the Blogging Olympics next Summer in Nagano. Screw that. That's not how I roll (although I'm still not sure exactly how I roll. I'm still in the neonatal phase of "rolling." Just kind of feeling it out, ya know? But I'm like 87.4% sure I don't wanna roll with Massengill Extra Cleansing Douche tattooed on my ass...I think).
Much Love,
Bo

The following IM conversation occured after the severity of Carson Palmer's knee damage was revealed tonight:

Lyons: please, please God, let Palmer be healthy again!

Bo: if there is a god, then palmer will be fine

Lyons: did you see the latest news?

Lyons: about how bad it was?

Bo: i heard it wasn't as bad as they originally thought

Bo: hold, reading article now

Lyons: "On a scale of 1 to 3, it was a 4," he said. "It was off the chart. It was pretty badly damaged -- shredded is the better term."

Bo: ok now i feel ill

Lyons: yea..

Bo: ugh

Bo: i want kimo's head

Lyons: i have faith though...you know he is going to work his ass off, and after all, he is a pocket passer

Bo: yeah

Lyons: i'd take him in a wheel chair over half the nfl qb's

Bo: plus, then it would be hard to tackle him and get his knees to touch the turf

Bo: i think you're on to something there

Lyons: and if it's motorized, there is no telling how good he can become

Bo: all about the "rascal"

Bo: that's gonna be a great nickname for him: "Rascal" Palmer

Lyons: i like it, send him an email

Dear Solid White K*Swiss Kicks,
I was the subject of an intervention last night. Innocently talking with my friends at a party, I suddenly found myself, literally, trapped by three of them in a corner. There was nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide. For the next half hour of my life I took a verbal beating, and all because...I dig wearing you whenever possible. They began beating around the bush, saying that you were okay in certain situations, but soon they got right to the point and told me, basically, I should never wear you again...under any circumstance, because you are chick repellents. Harsh. The more I tried to defend you, the deeper I dug my hole. I found this especially odd, since you weren't even with us last night, you were at home, taking a much deserved night off. I was upset that they were talking so much shit behind your back and called them cowards for not stating their convictions to your face, but they were relentless.
Maybe I do spend too much time with you. I realize now that wearing you with jeans, a sports jacket, and my Mets cap is probably in bad taste. But when we met, roughly a year and a half ago, we spent the majority of our time together in the hospital and you never really got to see the world outside those white walls. I just wanted to show you that there was so much more out there, and for that I am persecuted.
I know it may seem like I'm giving up on you without much of a fight, but I can assure you that is far from the truth. If it was just Mark talking shit about you I would tell him to piss off and then laugh at him for worrying about another man's shoes. It's not just Mark, though, it's also Kristina and Emily...and I realize now that the three of them are only looking out for me. I had mentioned possibly getting another pair of K*Swiss, with some color in them, but that idea was promptly dismissed as Kristina said," Let's just get the K*Swiss idea out of your head." Apparently she's a K*Swiss-ist...sad that in this day and age bigotry can still exist and make me change my choice of footwear...but it does and has. You're back on hospital duty...sorry guys.
Much Love,
Bo

Much like Monica Gellar, one of my biggest "pet" peeves is people who dress their dogs up in people clothes. I can't help but think that this is some kind of animal cruelty. Unfortunately, my parents are of this ilk. Poor Zoe (family dog) is subject to embarrassment by means of rain jackets, winter coats, and, occasionally, little puppy booties. My mom and I just went shopping in Hyde Park Square and spent the majority of our time in a certain shop that caters specifically to this type of lunacy. Although I did almost buy Zoe a Bengals baseball cap with holes in the top for her ears to stick out (which my mother immediately vetoed calling it "ugly"), for the most part the contents of this store seemed sinful. Jean jackets, gourmet dog biscuits with icing on them, plush dog beds made to look like Mercedes', I quickly realized that most of these dogs live better than I do. At one point I was explaining to my mom how ironic it was to give a dog a fur coat because they are, in fact, covered in fur already...but then I realized that I was wearing a leather jacket, thus making myself a hypocrite, so I shut up.
All-in-all, it was a very educational trip. I no longer feel sorry for the little muts that are forced to dress up at their master's command...I envy them. Someone get me a Beggin' Strip...I need comfort food.
Much Love,
Bo