Monday, May 7, 2007

Let's Raise a Toast to The Hoff

As The Boff, I have to say that I am deeply saddened by the reaction to the recently released video of The Hoff. I have to say better acting cannot be found beyond the combined and complete Nightrider and Baywatch anthologies. And here's the kicker-- HE WASN'T ACTING! If the honesty of emotion radiating off the shirtless Hoff struggling to finish the most sustenant of meals in the American diet, a Wendy's double cheeseburger, while grappling with the tyrannical beast of alcoholisim can't win him an Oscar... well then they should just abolish The Academy in The Boff's opinion.

I want to raise a toast of whatever The Hoff got wrecked off of, and say, "thank you dear man... Thank you for addressing alcohol abuse head on! Thank you for volunteering your problem to the world! You are to alcoholism what Michael J. Fox is to Parkinson's disease, what Arthur Ashe is to AIDS, what Christopher Reeves is to people in wheel chairs, what Martin Luther King is to black people." Let's just hope The Hoff is just as successful! I want to raise that toast and finish that toast... and then I want to say, "God-damnit man get on your horse to recovery! You deserve to, because you are The Hoff." The Hoff never finishes second to anyone, and he won't finish second to alcoholism either. Let the words "I had the mini-bar"* be words spoken about the distant past.

-Boff Out

* The Hoff explains here that he was not the womanizer in real life everyone assumed, but instead an alcoholic who would not leave his room and instead... he "had the mini-bar."

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Night Out!

A night out is defined by the following happening:

-You are wearing women's shoes, pants, and tanktop by 8 pm.

-You don't make it past midnight at 80's Night because you're too wasted.

-You have a conversation with Quintero about guys making out and how it's cool... and then you try to make out with Quintero and it ain't so cool.

-You wake up at 5:55 am not knowing where the fuck you are or why the fuck you are wearing women's pants, and it takes a few minutes to figure out that you crashed in your office.

-You Dutch Oven yourself out of bed with virulent gas that comes along once in a decade.

-You get the following text message from Ingrid in the morning:

I would like the following items returned to me:
my pants
my sweater
my jacket
my sunglasses
my dignity

You're still wearing her pants. You have no idea where everything else is.

Summation: NIGHT OUT!

Check out Chickytava's pictures here.

Friday, March 30, 2007

3/30/07: Boff Links

Hey all! Just a short post to tell you that I will still be continuing to do The Blog, but much less frequently and in a much different vein. The reports of the demise of The Blog have been greatly exaggerated.

I would also like to direct you toward the below link to see all of my links. One can find a lot out about The Boff via his links.

Boff's Links: Check 'Em Out

Boff Out!

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

3/19/07: Oh Fuck, Who Am I Kidding... It's 3/27/07

Who the hell am I kidding? As I sit here at 3 in the morning in my soiled boxers, scraping shittily-made Mexican food off the bottom of a pyrex bowl while listening to my Trance Trippin' CD I pose the relevance of my life and The Blog.

What am I? I am not the slick, smooth-as-butter, lady killer with model-hot looks everyone has come to know me as. I am... so sad to say... I am a loser, plain and simple.

I sit spending most of my day pressing the refresh button on my site meter to see if just one more person has visited my blog. That's my life friends.... That's all.... That's it.

-I do not possess model-hot looks. I mean, I'm next to leper quality.

-My ass is gigantic and releases frequent noxious farts.

-My one accomplishment in life is scoring an 8.9 rating on on a doctored photo.

-The only thrill in the last year of my life came when I forced everyone to wear a t-shirt with my "model-hot" face, every day, all the time.

-My selection of music is abysmal.... For fuck sake, #16 on the countdown is Sk8er Boy. #4 is, I kid you the-fuck-not, Girls Just Want to Have Fun.

-I am not the swinger I portray myself to be. Those scenes of me game-spittin' at the swanky 4th Ave. bars... are... I'm so sad to say... made up.

-My life is one nut drop away from anarchy. I can't even keep up posting regularly to a blog. I'm 8 fucking days behind! Even Fatty McBoomba Seeker is able to update his blog regularly, no less from frickin' Old Europe.

This is it.... The death of The Blog has come. This passing along with drinking frequent Blueberrytinis while listening to Blue by Eiffel 65 has resulted me in entering The Blue Period of my life. This is me from now on:

R.I.P. The Blog. Your end came too soon.

Monday, March 26, 2007

3/18/07: Notre Dame

Don't you wish sometimes you could have your cake and eat it too? (I still don't understand this idiom btw.) Anyhow, I figured out a way that this is possible. The best things in life have two sublime but unique sides. Take for example the famous cathedral in Paris-- Notre Dame. Notre Dame is noted for its famous facade with its cathedral towers lending themselves toward a welcome syndrome of instant recognition. But, the amazing architectural construct of flying buttri at the rear of the building still fascinate and attract constructionists and the common folk alike. The Problem: One cannot enjoy two in the same view.

I, myself, also have two exceptional sides to myself. Note my chiseled facade that adorn not too frequently these pages. Note my well-proportioned rear end that seems to attract the attention of the wanted and the unwanted alike. Well, what if you could take in both in one inclusive view? Well, due to amazing flexibility the below sight is possible:

Have your cake, eat your cake, make your cake, bake your cake... shake yo' cake, whatever. Take it all in folks, it's not everyday that you're treated to a spectacle like this. BTW, this is why I have the nickname Notre Dame... a nickname that I hope sticks because of its accurate description of who I am.

17. Allentown Billy Joel Greatest Hits Vol. 2

Saturday, March 24, 2007

3/17/07: I May Look Like a Pear, but I'm Still a Jew Down There

It's not everyday where we get to celebrate the heritage of a culture defined by chronic binge drinking, wife slapping and rampant racism, but today's St. Patty's Day, so live it up. I dressed up as this green nightmare as a parody of everything wrong with this despotic nation.

There I am with Krista who flew in today from San Francisco and we don't see often enough. For a more complete photo-log of the night, I direct you toward this blog.

Look at that picture of me.... I want to beat the shit out of me like all those fruity little leprechauns for whom I have a dire hatred toward. Who wants to round them up and have a leprechaun massacre... no, a leprechaun Holocaust?... Goddamn!... All this drinking and terrible music brings such repugnant xenophobia out in me. I think I could get used to it.

Yet drinking and having a green outfit on unleashes an easy conversation piece that must be exploited.

SCENE 2: I May Look Like a Pear, but I'm Still a Jew Down There

Enter NONSTOP into the Surly Wench midnight-ish on St. Patty's Day in his green leprechaun outfit. Two dykes are about to undergo re-education and be unleashed from their caged world of non-penetration.

NONSTOP: Excuse me, but may I introduce myself? My name is Nonstop and I am the Sausage Casing King of Chicago.

DYKE #1: Has your sausage gone bad? 'Cuz you've turned green and there's an incredible stench in here.

DYKES #1 and #2 giggle. NONSTOP does not lose confidence. Someone needs to put a finger in the dyke to stop the leak. That someone has arrived.

NONSTOP: You didn't hear me right ladies.... I'm the Sausage Casing King, and I plan to wrap my sausage in some intestinal casings later tonight. Would you like to see how a sausage is wrapped, because there's a first time for everything.

DYKE #2: Why the hell did you drag your leprechaun ass over here? You are a ridiculous green nightmare.

NONSTOP deduces that DYKE #2 is of the man-hating strain. No need to pay it any more attention, or refer to it as anything other than an IT. IT is keeping Dyke #1 locked in her lesbo cage. Unfortunately for IT, the Keymaster has arrived.

NONSTOP [ignoring IT]: You must be a magnet, because it looks like you are attracted to my buns of steel.

DYKE #1: Turn your white ass around. Let me perform a rectal examination. It may take a while though, because it looks like I have a lot of ground to cover.

NONSTOP appreciates a dyke with a sense of humor. The man-hating strain of dykes are devoid of such faculties.

NONSTOP [enjoying getting prodded and probed]: When you're done out back, why don't you come around front and go where no dyke has ever gone before?

IT: I am going to beat your lilly white ass back to the leprechaun stone age. [Walks off in a huff.]

NONSTOP [to DYKE #1, glad to get IT out of the way]: As Jean Luc Picard says on countless occasions in ST:TNG, 'Make it so!'

DYKE #1: What makes you think I'm going to find anything? Rumor has it leprechauns don't have dicks.

NONSTOP: I may look like a pear, but I'm still a Jew down there. [NONSTOP drops the Jew card, a sure fire winner. Without pause and smooth as butter, he removes a pen and writes his phone number on a napkin.] Call me when you want to play for the winning team. Shalom.

NONSTOP knows that DYKE #1 could use a little lovin', a little Judaism, a little Nonstop. He'll wait patiently for the guaranteed call.

And Scene!

18. Push It Garbage Version 2.0

Friday, March 23, 2007

3/16/07: I'm a Poser

In preparation for my fledgling modeling career, I realize that I need to be able to pose in any situation, in any circumstance, under any inconceivable conditions. As training I have allowed myself to be put in dire and virulent conditions to force my beautiful face maintain the ability to shine through whatever terrifying circumstances; sort of like when Captain Frank Ramsey held a missile launch drill during a galley fire on the U.S.S. Alabama in one of everyone's favorite classics Crimson Tide. I think the picture below proves that I can maintain my composure in an early morning environment, unclothed, and in the bathroom!

You say that I'm naked in this picture. Well guess what: It's called art! Deal with it!

19. White Flag Dido Life for Rent

Friday, March 16, 2007

3/15/07: Infiltrating Al Qaeda

Tonight, was extended to me a very gracious invitation... or so I thought.

I am not blind to the struggles our country is going through: the triad Goliaths of terrorism, the danger to our oil supply, and activist judges. I am a true American Patriot in the mold of all that is Red (Indians), White (God-fearing Americans), and Blue (terrorists after I'm through with them). In fact my favorite team is the Patriots, and my ultimate role model is Tom Brady who dumps his old hag for an obvious upgrade when she becomes too pregnant (a Hoff-like move in my opinion).

So when I was invited to a seemingly harmless dinner at Hotel Congress, I had no idea that I would be serving my country by infiltrating an Al Qaeda cell. You see, I had dinner with two Germans and a Frenchman.

'Nuf Said

Putting me in such a situation is analogous to letting a jaguar loose at a Shih Tzu show, or giving a Sept. 11th hijacker his 67 virgins. But, cooler heads prevailed, and I enjoyed my swordfish steak, which was probably poisoned (therefore my immediate stomach cleansing afterwards at the UMC), and enjoyed another beer, which I spat out undetected into Christian's belongings (likely a bomb) beside me. I have friends in high places-- a little organization that I don't want to drop here, but that starts with C and ends with A. And I'm pretty sure that they're going to be on this post like a pitbull on a poodle with all the red flag words I have used.

Mission Accomplished!

20. Mai Mai Jaia Blue Energy

3/14/07: The Sophisticates

This post isn't for everyone, just those who know Ojas. So pay attention Linda.

I want to wish a happy 30th birthday to my friend Ojas. He has always been a true and steadfast friend through thick and thin, never wavering in his support, and one of the greatest supporters of my diverse sense of humor.... And that's saying a lot. His most notable accomplishment ever was crafting a T-shirt with my face on it causing a massive wave of sensationalism across the country.

Like me, he is not one to grab and bask in the spotlight. Quite the contrary as you can see in this snapshot from Kelly and Steve's Mexican wedding this January. He is the one boldly displaying himself, proud as a peacock, second from the left.

He is my most consistent IMer. He reminds me on the most frequent of bases of the days of yore when I treaded among the sophisticates of my collegiate years. I have relegated myself to the one-horse town of Tucson where the only such tokens are those friends who went to Cornell, the Affirmative Action entry into the Ivy League. The true Ivy League in my opinions includes only the Holy Trinity: my humble liberal arts college in Cambridge, that entry from the rape capital of Connecticut, and some parochial school in the malaria-infested swamps of New Jersey.

It can be a struggle IMing with this product of the system for he is a Spelling Nazi (and not a Wannabe Nazi Prison Guard like my unnamed German friend), so the corrections to our conversations can be abundant. It's as frustrating as playing marbles with a kleptomaniac. You see Ojas entered himself into the Scripp's National Spelling Bee at the meager age of 12... and finished second. I don't want to chide him on his missed word, especially now that we are senescing past the three decade mark, or in Ojas's case sonnessing. Instead I want to take this opportunity for me to raise a toast to Ojas and honor him on this blessed day.

You see this blog isn't all about me, it's about me respecting those who I care about most.

21. Hurricane Bob Dylan The Essential: Bob Dylan

Thursday, March 15, 2007

3/13/07: Typical Tuesday

Any day where you go drinking in the afternoon and end up with 5 hot women in your bedroom is a good day. I call it just another Tuesday.

The Story:

Happy Hour is announced at Z's at 5 pm.

We celebrate drinking and more importantly Kit's potential new hook up to illicit substances legal in The Netherlands.

Ingrid and I play rock stars in my bathroom.

Stephanie, Ingrid, Anna, Kit, and Krista (via satellite link) drink and enjoy a frolicing good time as Cigar and Bloody Mary Night moves to my bedroom. Gerry, Desika, and Alex (#3) play neutral U.N. observers.


Inspired by a brilliant idea, I decided to write down a random item searched for on Google for every letter of the alphabet. Unlike some, I could fill every letter of the alphabet. But please do note, I lend my keyboard to the often sick and depraved, so some of the search items do not represent me.

artificial horse vaginas
Banana Republic condoms
Cindy Lauper greatest hits album
Droppin' Hamilton's
erections lasting longer than 30 seconods
French military victories
greatest movie of all time Starship Troopers
how to find drunkest easiest sorority girl in bar
"I love Jake Gyllenhal"
Jew pick-up lines
knight rider
lubemaster 9000
Mr. Pibb homebrew recipe
narcissistic personality inventory
Oh! face
pink boxers Banana Republic
questioning whether we landed on the moon
Ryan Seacrest
star trek the next generation best episode ever Best of Both Worlds or Yesterday's Enterprise
Tom Brady is a stud
urine green problem
virility pill
what happens when you google google?
X-ray dong bone
Yo' Momma Jokes
Zappo's shoes

22. Mysterious Times Sash! Featuring Tina Cousins Mysterious Times