Sep 29, 2008
Last Night Bossy Had Dinner With The Fonz And Marlon Brando.
And not just the Fonz and Marlon Brando, but a real estate agent for
the house Bossy was buying on a hill in Portland Maine—a house with floor to ceiling windows and a front door left ajar, allowing snow to drift inside the tiled vestibule.
The thing Bossy noticed about the Fonz was that he was fussy. His story was entertaining, but his hair was clearly blown dry, and Bossy’s mother whispered that she most definitely heard the Fonz refer to his wife as a seasick betch.
The Fonz was also fussy in the way he corrected the mostly quiet Marlon Brandon halfway through dinner. “Work out where you want to go and then go there!” Fonz bristled, as Marlon Brando crawled around under the banquet, pausing to surrender to his smell fetish.
That’s right: smell fetish, and Bossy didn’t know what that was either, but apparently Marlon Brando likes to sniff things. For instance the pant leg belonging to the husband of the Portland real estate agent—and in Bossy’s dream, the husband of the Portland real estate agent was Bob Newhart.
In actual news: this weekend Bossy reached down her throat with a pair of sharp scissors and extricated her own spleen in a sterile surgical theater known as her bed. Fine—it wasn’t her spleen, it was an ingrown toenail. But the part about the sharp scissors and the indescribable pain—that’s all true.
Gah, you’re thinking, is this worthy of a mention? And Bossy understands, because if you thought that, you are probably the type of person who enjoys poking sharp instruments under tender toenails.
In other actual news, Bossy’s Kimberly Clark/Scott paper contest will end tonight at 10 p.m. EST. If you have not yet entered the contest, you have until 10 p.m. EST, which is a coincidence considering the contest also ends at 10 p.m.
Have an excellent Monday.
Sit on it!
Ick. It’s too early to hear about ingrown toenails being pulled out of a throat!
What a dream! I have been having strange dreams lately. Last night my dream had Charles Manson in it. I had been kidnapped by him and I finally escaped. Details were bizarre. So glad to wake up!
I always suspected Henry was fussy.
If only the daytime Bossy was buying a house in Portland…then she would only be an hour away. But don’t buy a house with snow inside…for there is plenty of snow OUTSIDE where it belongs!
You have subtlety down to an art, really.
Ingrown toenails are dadgum painful critters. Did BOSSY know they are hereditary?
Bob Newhart is my dad and when I say he’s my dad I mean the two are identical in appearance, talk exactly the same way, and were both accountants at one point. Only differences: Newhart’s jokes get more laughs than my father’s jokes do and my dad actually lives in Vermont in real life.
My dream consisted of leaving my ex in a very ANGRY way. It’s been over 10 years, apparently I’m not over the anger. I only think about it when I’m sleeping.
Whut?
Did Bossy eat some weird food before bedtime to have such a weird dream?
My sister has you beat on the self-surgery thing. She’s a nurse and took out her own stitches after her C-sections. Sent shivers up my spine.
Fonzie, Marlon and Bob sounds a lot better than mine with Gene Rayburn, the guy who did the Raymond J Johnson “you can call me ray, or you can call me J” schtick, and one of my former bosses.
Bossy gets the fun dreams.
And did Bossy wake up in bed next to Suzanne Pleshette?
That’s some dream!
Ow.
I have stones in my gallbladder. Stones. In my gallbladder.
I’m twenty two.
Happy Monday to you, too, Bossy.
Aaaaaaaaay!
Ingrown anything hurts,don’t ask how I know
My husband knows that when I say I am “performing surgery”, that I am digging out an ingrown toenail with a sharp instrument – usually a bobby pin with the little plastic bulb on the end pulled off. Sometimes my toe spasms after hitting the nerve endings. Ew.
I have a nasty ingrown nail myself. Do you do housecalls?
I, fortunately, have never had an ingrown toenail.
My sister has had several. And as a result, no longer has either of her big toenails.
Double-you tee eff?
And just what did you smoke over the weekend?
Four-cheese pizza for supper? Not a great idea.
Was the Portland house overlooking the ocean? If so, buy it!!
Celebrities, fetishes, extravagant homes, mystery and intrigue, all are the makings for a good soap opera.
Bossy could write for a soap opera (and a comedy and a news program and an entertainment magazine and anything she wants, but let’s focus on the soaps, if it is possible to focus at all). The Bold and the Bossy. The Young and the Bossy. General Bossiness. As the World Gets Bossed. Bossy’s Hope. All my Bossy. The Edge of Bossy. And so on.
Ha! You should write that up as a screenplay. I for one would like to see a “Bossy Barbie Production” of that!!!
My dreams lately have involved lots of vomiting. That must be a sign.
A bad one.
WHAT?!!?! I know I’ve been off-line for a while, but, WHAT?!!
Apparently intense ingrown toenail pain causes bizarre dreams. quite a correlation there. Impressive.
I wish I could remember my dreams. I always lay in bed trying to remember them so when I get out of bed I will….however, to no avail…in the end they’re gone..makes me crazy..
Dorothy from grammology
grammology.com