Get Blacked Out Again

You know how Foz the Hook plays at Cole’s each Wednesday night at 9:00 before the Cole’s Comedy Open Mic, hosted by Adam Burke or Rhea Butcher or the voluble Kenny Witzgall?  You know how that goes?  Well, it’s going to be like that tonight – just like any other Wednesday night.  It’s going to be totally hilarious.

In other news, this Saturday night you have a unique opportunity to get blackout drunk and wake up in the pokey!  Why?  Because Sean Flannery’s Blackout Diaries, Volume 15, returns to the Beat Kitchen!  Sean’s recruited a batch of the most debased degenerates ever to crawl into a bottle, and they’re all going to spill their guts, so to speak.  I think you’re going to see the Puterbaugh Sisterz, and I think you’re going to see James Fritz, and of course you’re going to see Colonel Foz, who returns for his second monthly engagement at this classy joint.

The Colonel came up with new material for this one, and I’m going to give you a sneak peak.  That’s what you get in exchange for reading FozBlog!

"I seen it all, friends!  Toured with everyone from Willie and Loretta to Gramm and Emmie Lou; everyone from Couger to Mellencamp.  Did blow outta Janice’s belly button, and from the adorable dimple just above Jagger’s ass.  This one time, we all went down to Montreaux …  Frank Zappa and the Mothers had the best place around…"

[Play one verse and chorus of Smoke on the Water…]

"Crazy days I seen, people.  But I tell you, of all my regrets piled up by 40 years of dissipation, the flare gun regrets are the worst.  I mean, in those days, when Frank Zappa called you a stupid piece of shit, it meant something!"

(Hat tip to Cheezeburger.com for the awesome fire pic.)

That’s the least of what you will see if you go to the Blackout Diaries on Saturday Night, July 28, at 9:30, at the Beat Kitchen.  Seating is limited so buy your tickets in advance here!

See you there.

Summer Games August 8

Hey, you motor-mouths!  You know that FtH produces four special extravaganza shows each year, and that these pageants send you into insane cataracts of laughing. 

I know that you remember Foz the Hook’s War on Christmas, where everybody came up on stage and sang the Grinch Song.  I know that you remember Foz the Hook’s Poison Valentine Pageant, where a posse of embittered and cynical comics lashed Love until it just gave up and bought a cat.  Soon you will remember Foz the Hook’s Summer Games, where a team of robust jocks who failed the pre-Olympic drug tests inspired you with songs and jokes about the glory of human competition.

But for the time being you will have to anticipate Foz the Hook’s Summer Games because it isn’t going to happen until Wednesday night, August 8 at Cole’s, and starting at 9:00.  It’s right before the Cole’s Comedy Open Mic like a regular FtH show.

It’s going to be a great show, and for now all I can do is introduce you to the preliminary cast, including…  Your Pals, FtH; Krystal LaFianza-Pitzen; Maria Wojciechowski; Rachel Ortiz; Jason Earl Folks; Kate from the Sweats, and Cait from Blue Ribbon Glee Club.

The songs are a secret.  Would it be funny if you already knew the songs?  No.  Of course not.

Join us tonight at 9:00 at Cole’s as always, because you love you some FtH!

The Legend of the Pants

It is all about The Pants.  The pants answer most of your Foz-related questions.  I bring this up because Your Pals in FtH get a lot of questions regarding our biographies, relationship and immigration status, and credit score.  We can see why you’d want to know.  After some mature consideration I thought it best to come clean about at least one crucial psychological source of our best material.  Something that explains most everything.

It was the 1970’s, the heyday of American fashion, and FozMom was determined that her boy would be in the avant garde of fashion.  Now, J. C. Penney had American flag tank tops, and they had lime green leisure suites with hand-painted polyester shirts with coyotes and cacti on them.  I had all of these – although I should say that the lime green leisure suit was reserved for special occasions like FozGranny’s funeral or FozPop’s subsequent trial.

But one bright beautiful day in 1976(?) FozMom brought home these striped beauties in robin-egg blue and crimson.  I quickly matched them with my existing prison-stripe pull-over, and BINGO!, I had a new farming suit! 

 

At the time FozSis and I ran a commune in the Flint Hills where the Peace Children came for refuge after getting evicted from the desert commune featured in Billy Jack.  I am pleased to say that we sold those stinkers back to The Fuzz for a handy profit.  You can see the pants at my Facebook page (linked above), and you can see them here (pictured with FozDad) on The Day I caught a Huge Fish (later post).

They were good pants.  I wish I still had them.  I wish I still had that commune.  I wish I hadn’t sold the Flower Children to The Fuzz.  I wish Tom Laughlin would stop bugging FozSis and I about making Billy Jack 2012.  I wish I still had that one tin soldier.

Regrets?  I’ve had a few, but I mostly regret that I don’t have those pants any more.

Anyway, you can’t know my credit score, but you can know what made Foz the Hook the way we are.  Soon Patrick and Larry will guest post about their favorite pants.

The GoodGawd Open Mic at Cole’s Returns tonight.  FtH plays at 9:00, and The Hosts, Adam Burke, Rhea Butcher, and Kenny Witzgall run the list at 9:30.

Be there for another great show!

Me and International Football Game™

Well, folks.  That’s another one for the books.  Yesterday, July 4, 2012, will forever be remembered as “That one time when Cole’s wasn’t open and there wasn’t an open mic, because Cole was having a party, or whatever.” 

Lots of people met out in the woods for a 102 degree Christmas Party, hosted by Coleman Brice for staff and friends of Cole’s.  There was much to drink and eat.  We set things on fire, and used the fire to cook food.  There was plenty of beer and more ice.  Everyone was there. Sorry you missed it.

After several hours of sedate drinking and munching, somebody got the idea of having vigorous exercise in the European style.  That’s when Your Pal Foz, along with Patrick and Larry and bunch of other persons took to the pitch to play a bracing match of International Football Game™. 

You will remember that game from the time you went to an Irish bar at 7 in the morning and fell asleep while everyone else drank Guinness Bloody Marys.  There was something on the TV.  You don’t remember.  It ended in a tie, and later all of your fiends were out of the skulls with excitement that Portugal had a point.  You had always assumed that Portugal, with its rich heritage of seafood and navigation, would merit a point in any case.  However, this morning, through your boozy 11-in-the-morning hangover, you learned to appreciate that Portugal earned a point by not scoring any goals. 

Anyway, we played that game for a while.  It was a100 degrees out! Don’t worry.  Your Pal Foz insisted on playing the position of Shade Cover.  It was my role in this game to make sure that whenever the ball rolled into the area where there was shade and a cool breeze, I would kick it out to the area where it was sunny and hot.  In that way, the ball was kept warm, while Your Pal remained as cool and sedate as soccer permits.

Sadly, soccer did not permit me to remain too sedate.  On more occasions than I care to remember I had to run, and that never ends well.  By the time I got home to my hot-box apartment to enjoy the local patriotic display of fireworks and gunplay my feet were killing me.  Thighs and calves weren’t bad at all, but feet and ankles barked all night long. 

I called Patrick and asked what caused this.  Patrick is a social worker and anti-AIDS activist, so anytime I have any symptoms I ask Patrick, “It is AIDS?”  So I called Patrick, and said, “Hey, my feet hurt from playing soccer.  Is it AIDS?” He said “No.  AIDS is a blood-born pathogen typically communicated through sexual activity or IV drug use.  Did you do any of that at the Christmas Party?”  I said “No.  I just played soccer. Did you see me use needle-drugs or have unprotected sex at the Christmas in July party?”  He said “No.” 

So I don’t have AIDS – or at least I don’t have AIDS because of soccer.  Happy Independence Day!