Summary of The Star Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key

Last night, somebody was flying a really nice flag. Is that thing still up?

Advice For Undecided Voters

Hey, everyone! I have some helpful advice for you undecided voters out there. Yes, I know there's no end of information out there targeting you undecideds, but not many are offering this valuable advice:

If it isn't crystal clear to you by now which candidate should be president, Do Not Fucking Vote. Morons like you are the ones that gave GW Bush a second term. Don't buy into the conventional wisdom that voting is a civic responsibility that all citizens should participate in. If you don't know who to vote for by now, you aren't informed enough to vote. You risk fucking up the entire world with eenie miney moe bullshit. Are you just going to vote for whoever the TV last tells you to, as you're walking out the door to the polls? Seriously, stay home. Don't bother. Or think about this: should you walk out the front door or the back door? It's not such an easy choice as you might think. Maybe you should give it a few months, and THEN go vote.

And while I'm talking about 'conventional wisdom' about voting, let me clear up another fiction: "If you don't vote, you don't get to complain." Bullshit. The First Amendment isn't just for voters. Are people under 18 not allowed to complain? Are you allowed to complain if you voted, but it was for the guy you're complaining about? Does that mean that if you vote for the wrong guy, I can complain about him, and also blame you too?

I hope this helps your difficult decision! Get out there and vote like it's the last election you'll ever get to vote in!

An apology, and a parable for our time.

I would like to use this public forum to apologize for all that naked shortselling i've been doing. I didn't know so much harm would come from it. I was all telling Darrin about it and I got to the naked part and he said "Ew, that's gross." And I said, "I know, but it's so profitable." And he said with his Darrin Voice, "Well, that's the financial indu$try for you," and he said it with the dollar sign in it, so it came out like "induh-dollar-tree". Weird, I know. So anyway the shit all went down and I was kickin it with my man GW Bush out on the Wall Streets, like literally on the street. Were losing badly at a nice man's three-card monte stand. Of course he was in a disguise, and of course I was all naked cause i'd been shortsellin all day, and G said, "Did I really deregerlate (sic) everything just so you could walk around here naked?" And I was sort of surprised that he asked that, because the answer was a really obvious "yes" so that's what I said to him. He was all acting like I did something wrong for shortselling, even though he was totally cool with it a month ago. It wasn't just me; everybody was naked because they all have been shortsellin, and all the others had at least lost their shirts, and were trying to find buyers for their pants. But no takers, cause who wants pants? Then I point to Gdub's car. "Oh lordy mama, looks like someone's stealing your car!" And somebody was, but it wasn't really stealing because I had sold that car that I didn't own to some guy a few days ago when that car was more valuable. Not really stealing. I was pointing at GWB and laffin and ROTSLing. I sez to him "Free marketplace mutherfuckah! The shit all works out, right?" So anyway, sorry if I sold any of your cars. The moral of this story is to watch out for disguised presidents, naked people, and invisible hands. And don't sell your shorts and your pants at the same time, or they won't let you into the Waffle House.

A Jimmy Action-Adventure Comedy!

Jimmy was certainly a poor excuse for a human. There wasn't really much worth in him at all, except maybe a mercury filling in a tooth. The only things going for him was a love of TV sitcoms and a driving hunger for wallpaper paste. Usually when a child isn't loved by his own mother, that's a sign of a problem with the mother. In this case, this was all Jimmy's fault, not hers. She deserved pity just for having to look at him every day, and a less perfect mother would have killed him in his sleep long ago.

This one day, Jimmy was just hanging out, depleting the oxygen supply and chewing on a ball of fibreglass insulation. He had a Hall and Oates song stuck in his head, just like he always did. He had been staring at the television for several hours by the time his mom decided to turn it on because the plumber was going to be coming over to fix the sink. She was embarassed that Jimmy existed, but she would be extra embarassed if the plumber showed up and saw him watching a blank television. She thought the plumber was really dreamy and also steamy, so she wanted to make a good impression. Don't laugh; it's not unheard of for a plumber to be steamy. Sometimes it's just part of the job. Jimmy's mom was in the shower, taking a nice hot steamy shower in preparation for the plumber and his tools.

On the television, Superman jumped right out the window of the office building and took off flying. His mom loved when Jimmy would watch these kinds of shows, hoping it might give him ideas.

The plumber was a smelly man with a big bald spot atop his head, which was a very sensitive subject to him. He would proudly show off his ass while fixing your sink, but don't insult his bald spot. He had a handicapped tag in his truck that allowed him access to all the best parking spaces, but the tag wasn't really his. He stole it from some guy's car on the assumption that the owner wouldn't be able to catch him. The plumber was such a stereotypical plumber that nobody like him could exist in real life, which is why he shows up in this fictional story instead. He also had a heart shaped tatoo on his ass that said "Mom", which is also kind of funny, but highly unlikely in real life.

So he had his head most of the way under the sink with a pipewrench or something in hand, and his ass drooping over his belt like you'd expect from a stereotypical plumber. So wisely, Jimmy pointed out, "Your ass is stickin out of your pants, sir." To which the plumber, head still under the sink, retorted, "Oh yeah? Is that right? Fuck off, kid." Then, with drool dripping from the mouth, Jimmy said, "You're bald on the top of your head." Jimmy meant no harm, but this statement rattled the plumber enough that he screwed up something in the sink in such a way that water started squirting him in the face, and reflexively he jumped back, hitting his head under the sink. This struck Jimmy so much like a sitcom that he started laughing, like you're supposed to at sitcoms. In this case, no 'applause' sign or laugh track was necessary. The plumber, uninterested in the insult/injury combo, took after Jimmy with this pipe wrench he was holding. Of course this was even better than a sitcom, more like Benny Hill, so Jimmy was laffing uncontrolably and running away, out the front door and around the neighborhood. Eventually dogs gave chase, people carrying large stacks of dishes were startled and dropped them, other people just happened to be carrying large plate glass windows across the street which were hit by cars. Flower pots fell from third story windows, and even a piano. Someone, fully clothed, fell into a swimming pool. Oh yeah, and the Keystone Kops showed up too. If you've ever seen the 3 Stooges, it was about like that, except in color. Then all the cars jumped into the air and everything exploded.

It was really funny. You should have been there.

Dear Bosch's:
How do you manage to write such a long, rambling pointless story with absolutely no character development, plot, visual description or uplifting moral?

A: I write from the heart. It strikes such a strong chord with you because, deep down, you can relate. Did something like this happen to you when you were a child?

Re-reincarnation of Bosch's again.

Bosch's Occasional Journal began as a small-run xerox'd zine back in the Old Days, maybe 1993, back when Kinko's was a fun place to be at night, and before the internet destroyed the print medium, zines and all. I drew that old Bosch's logo by hand, with what design skills I had, and no computer. The articles were printed out for free at the library (Wordperfect 5.1), and the pages manually pasted together. Gradually the technology improved until maybe 1996 when the first all-electronic web Bosch's was available. It was sort of a proto-blog, but with longish articles. The last print Bosch's was in 1999, and the web-based version stagnated for years as all of us started on other projects.

Long boring story. Anyway, Bosch's as a blog has been on my mind for years, and the other day I noticed the last Bosch's site was broken. That was all the excuse I needed to scrap the old heap, and make this nice new blog.

I guess 'nice' might not be the right word for it. I'm not sure what it will turn into, but I suspect most of the posts will be me ranting on whatever subject is pissing me off at that moment. It's my thing. But I'll try to keep it as least as humorous as venomous, and be at least slightly insightful, once in a while. "Slightly insightful" might actually be a good goal/tagline/mission statement. Bosch's Occasionally Slightly Insightful Journal.

I also hope to get most or all of the old material back online soon too, if Blogger allows backdating to 1993.