FozBlog Classics

Pretty soon you will see plenty of fascinating new material about the impending release of the Foz the Hook album Gin-Soaked Yankee and Other Disgraces. Suffice to say, it will be an extraordinary work of art. In the meantime, here is a FozBlog Classic entry.


Curious Brittany Dream (First published in November, 2009)


Ok, last night I had the best dream about capital punishment. I was a prisoner - not an actor playing a prisoner, but a prisoner in the "Now you're on the slab" style of prisoner. I remember thinking that death wouldn't be so bad but I definitely didn't want it to hurt. The executioner - shall we call her Brittany - assured me that she would put me to sleep before starting the poison drip. She was perky. She put a thing like a blood pressure measuring thing on my right arm.

It's called what? Never mind.

So I lay down in the middle of the floor of this conference room with its gray carpet and broad white walls with too-small cheap pictures from the office supply service. Brittany turned on the death machine which made the sphygmomanometer squeeze my arm.

Here we go!

I started to get a little sleepy but was definitely not asleep. I also got the distinct impression that Brittany thought I was out. So I made sure to say, "You know, I'm not asleep yet. Hello?"

She assured me that there was a second a anesthetic to go in before she induced my heart attack. I think she was a little annoyed with me. Maybe this happens all the time, but since I've never been killed before, how would I know?

So she turned the dead dial up to two, the squeezer did its thing, and I waited. I actually started to perk up a bit, while at the same time starting to feel quite anxious about the impending spasms of chest-clenching pain and breathlessness. I again indicated that I was not quite ready to die.

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't trying to get her to not kill me. I pay my taxes, do my best to keep up with my credit cards, and meekly submit to extermination when my time comes. I also kind of hoped that Brittany liked me, so I definitely didn't want to put her off.

She came over and adjusted the thingy, while complaining that she couldn't find a vein. Now I was a little annoyed. The ladies at the blood donation center always said I had good veins. It's one of my good traits.

Anyway, she put the heart attack strap back on and went back to try the knock out drop again. Again with the anticipation of drowsiness and sleep. Again I just lay there waiting for the convulsions.

The air conditioner turned on.

Finally I just got tired of waiting and took off the sphygmomanometer. I told Brittany we would have to do this another day.

Then I got my stuff and left.