Corner Booth

Joshua Radin's new video "Closer" directed by Zach Braff. The video has a great concept. If you go to YouTube and search Joshua Radin, you can also see Radin playing "Winter" live. I highly recommend it.

Much Love,
Bo

I just watched a little program on FSN (Fox Sports Network) that detailed the 1988 Oakland Athletics...at least it tried to. It was only a half hour program and the producers obviously decided to disgrace those whom they originally attempted to immortalize. Deciding to bring the program to an end by highlighting the 1990 World Series was painful even for the most die-hard of Reds fans to witness. "We were supposed to win in four, but we lost in four." Holy Good God, stop the friggin' bitching. You guys were over-rated, Reds never left FIRST PLACE throughout the entire year...and yet, were the underdogs. Piss off Oakland, Bash-Brothers were juicing and still lost. War Eric Davis. War Lou Pinella. War Schotzie.
Much Love,
Bo

'NUFF SAID.

Much Love,
Bo

So I went to Wendy's today around 1 in the afternoon, I was starving. I ordered a normal (large) value meal, then decided I also needed a cup o' chili. Yum. Got home, ate my normal (large) value meal, and realized my eyes had been much bigger than my stomach. "No problem," methinks, "this shall make an excellent late night snack." A NASCAR race and dinner later, I was thinking to myself, "Damn, that chili sure sounds good now," and I moved to warm the cup o' goodness up in the magical microwave. "A minute should do it," thought I, but alas, I was incorrect. "Surely, there needs be only 30 seconds more," I said, stomach eagerly awaiting the warm tasty surprise, but again, I was wrong. Impatient, I thought to myself, "Fuck you, chili, I'll show you...2 minutes." Seconds passed like the grains of sand in the hour glass, and when the mystical box beeped three times, I knew it was time for gestation. I opened the microwave, grabbed the cup o' chili, and realized my folly. Heat permeated the paper cup which held my treasure...and good God was it hot. For one second I thought I could make it out of my kitchen and into my living room, to the t.v. tray which awaited me, the next second, I felt the searing hot chili on my chest and realized my fingers had failed me and the chili I had looked forward to all day had been dropped from my hand, and was burning the shit out of my torso. When I collected myself and stopped screaming like a school girl, I looked, to my horror, at the wonderful treat and thought...dammit, now I have to clean this up. Somehow I had uprighted the cup holding the chili, but had let the chili, itself, spill all over the counter and onto the floor. I know, it could be worse, I could have no food at all. That single thought is honestly what stopped me from screaming obscenities like Howard Dean on a bender, but damn...that chili looked good.
Much Love,
Bo

http://youtube.com/watch?v=nFT-lyFN3BM

Roughly 11 minutes long...probably only understand if you're an addict.

Much Love,
Bo

Alright, here we go. Currently watching "Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List." I know, I know, I'm breaking my "no reality TV shows" deal, but it's not like I'm watching high school girls discover themselves (Blair...oh and Rex/Currin). Anyway, I think the basic premise of this show is that we're supposed to feel somewhat sorry for Kathy Griffin because she's not on the "A-List." That is until we see her house(she has a goddam elevator in her house and a mote around her back yard)...and her personal assistant...and her multiple Lexus'. Sick. Now... my father made me watch this...as a late night t.v. addict (I work til 11:30pm) I knew of this show, but never watched it. If her life is sad (on the "D-List") then put me on the "F-List" or the "G-List," hell, the "J-List" would be acceptable. I just want to have a house and not rent. Though I'm told she really does bust her ass for everything she has...but screw that, she was in "Dinotopia: Quest for the Ruby Sunstone"...don't ask how I know.
Much Love,
Bo

So I just returned from a seminar about Anger in Grieving Children. Not exactly thrilling unless you're in my field, but that's not what this post is about. At the end of the day long seminar the instructor said something that hit me harder than anything else she had said throughout the class. With the exception of teachers, police, sewer workers, and sweat shop children, those in the mental health field may have the most thankless jobs in America. After spending weeks with a child, we walk them out of the unit, through two locked doors and SOMETIMES we'll get a "thanks" from the patient's parent (usually for letting them off the unit rather than consoling and helping their child when the parent just couldn't take anymore). Se la vie, it's what we do and I'm not here to bitch about not being thanked for it. At the end of today's seminar, though, the instructor said, "The fact is that you guys are where the buck stops. When noone else knows what they can do, they refer the children to you and you step in and help to heal their souls. Let me be the one to thank you for that. Thank you for healing our children, thank you from the children you have healed, and thank you from those that you have yet to meet. Thank you." I literally got chills up my spine and remembered why it is that we do what we do. It's not for recognition, cuz in the grand scheme we'll never get it and we don't expect it, but damn is it nice to hear that once in a while. Thank you to all who help every day to shape the future, and thank you to Dr. Sims for recharging my battery in one day.
Much Love,
Bo

Note: I don't know how, but somehow I neglected to mention the men and women who defend our country when discussing the most thankless jobs in America. I'm sure I missed more, but there is no excuse for forgetting them. Thank you guys.

It's well known and documented that our sense of smell is closely related to our sense of taste. It is also well known and documented that dogs have a much more developed sense of smell than humans. It's making me wonder if they also have a more developed sense of taste than we humans do. If that is the case, why the hell do they eat their own feces? Is there some culinary ecstasy that we, as humans, are missing out on by not ingesting our excrement? Are our senses so dulled that the explosion of joyful, tastebud-tingling, mouthgasm-inducing, gustatory sensation of pleasure is too much for us to handle so our brains just interpret it as tasting...well...shitty? I wonder...
Much Love,
Bo

I woke up this morning and thought..."Hey, I've got a Monday off, I should go to the grocery store in the afternoon while everyone is at work, thereby missing the crowd. This plan is sure to work, I'm clever." Once I reached the Kroger in Hyde Park, though, I realized that this is the day before the 4th of July and everyone and their brother was stocking up for cook outs. Shit. It crossed my mind to leave and come back another day, but then I realized that I had absolutely no food in my apartment and trudged on in. Upon entering, I made a few observations:

1. Many of the 40-something women that shop in this particular Kroger truly believe they are movie stars, or royalty, or that someone in the paparazzi just might show up and mistake them for one of the two. These women are funny to watch. They walk around the store with their sunglasses on, refusing to look or acknowledge anyone else, and make it a sport to play chicken with their shopping carts...they never move because they're better than everyone else. Actually, now that I think about it...maybe they're all just blind. Now I feel mean.

2. It only costs roughly $100 to realize exactly how unhealthy your lifestyle really is. I bought no fruit, no vegetables, no pasta, no fish. I did, however, buy cheese filled pretzels, a frozen pizza, a box of Betty Crocker brownies, and a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough, which I have no intention of baking, but rather eating raw. If I live past the age of 40 they're gonna have me in a lab doing experiments on me to see how polysaturated fats, nicotine, and alcohol...in the right proportions...can sustain life.

3. Whoever the fuck "Don" is, that bastard needs to be fired. Apparently there was a "Clean-up in aisle 15," for about a half hour that he was to attend to according to the pissed-off, nasally woman on the intercom system, but he never did.

4. I just really don't like people. (Except you guys of course)

Much Love,
Bo