The Lost Blogs

Over the past year and a half since this blog started, I have written many blog drafts that, for some reason or other, have never made it to publication. The main reason for this is usually I don't finish them, but plenty of others had never seen the glory that is booshclown.blogspot.com just because of boring content or lack of a central theme. Today I will start publishing some of those blogs, mostly because I believe that there are parts of them you might find interesting or "phun."
This first one was written July 9, 2007, over a year ago, and contains only three scant sentences. It did not have a title:

Why is Elton John underappreciated by our generation? Is it completely becuase of the purpple glasses? Can't be.

Yeah.

The next blog was written this last December while in Colombia. I never published it because it felt like kind of a weak read and also like I was bragging about hangovers, and bragging about hangovers that should not be bragged about. Anyway, here it is:

The hangover is a curious beast. As I am in the depths of one right now, I thought it appropriate to write a blog concerning this vicious after effect of having too much fun. I have had several epic hangovers in my life, ranging from the morning after puke to lying in bed in a seemingly paralyzed state, clutching the pillow as if it were the only thing allowing me to cling to life. I remember a few in particular, in no particular order:

Thanksgiving, age 17
After an absolutely spectacular night of binge drinking, I spent the following morning sitting on the floor of my bathroom and clutching the toilet. To mask the sounds of my vomiting, I turned on the shower. Harry and Nancy were never the wiser, but were quite suspect of my lack of appetite when the cooked aviary delight was wheeled out to the table.

London, 2004
When visiting my friend Scott in London in 2004 I had the flu. One night I said to myself, "I'm going to see what it's like to get absolutely fucked up when you're sick." I am a fool. I knew exactly what would happen. I didn't, however, know that at 3 in the morning my friend would get a call from some tenants in his building saying "Hey, your mate is on our floor and he's passed out under a coffee table." I spent the next day wallowing in morbid self hatred and counting on one hand my remaining brain cells.

So that's that blog. Also kind of ends abrubtly, but offers a little more explanation than the first. Anyway, that's all for today's "Lost Blog" section. More to come later.

-Boosh Clown