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Saturday, 3 May 2014

Day 962 - Happy days are here again

Britain looks set to bathe in sunshine this weekend, so today I am off to Canford Magna in Dorset to watch some cricket, and tomorrow I will be heading to Brighton in Sussex for more of the same. I have waited a long time for the cricket season to get underway, and after last week's rain, which put me in a foul mood, and stopped me visiting Boz Boorer, it at last looks as though summer has arrived.

Did I mention that I was going to see Boz? No? Well, last week I went to Oxford for a few days, and I was going to pop in to Vinyl Boutique, between watching cricket, but it never happened because of the rain and the mood. I tweeted to mention this, and got a reply from Lyn Boorer via @Vinyl_Boutique saying that it was a shame I hadn't called in, because BB was there. At least, I think I received a tweet, it seems to have disappeared now! Perhaps I dreamt it! Hmm.

And on the subject of Boz and dreams, I recently stumbled over this classic parody piece from the FTM archives. It deserves another read, SO READ IT!


(It was reported that on Sunday September 23rd 2012, that Morrissey had helped an elderly lady who had fainted in a New York bookstore. Here now, is the truth.)

(Sunday Sept 23rd 2012 - 9am : The setting is the foyer of an unknown hotel in the middle of Manhattan, NYC. Rock-a-billy musician Martin 'Boz' Boorer enters the hotel and approaches the reception desk, where he is attended to by the attractive receptionist.)

BOZ BOORER: (to receptionist. In thick Cockney accent) All right (Looks at name tag) Patsy, how's tricks?

PATSY:(in a southern american country drawl) I'm fine thank you sir. I LOVE your accent, are you from Eng-er-land?

BOZ: That's right love, I'm from Landon.

PATSY: (beaming and playing with her hair) Wow, I LOVE London.

BOZ: I've just flown in from Portugal, can you tell me what room Morrissey is in please?

PATSY: (sounding impressed) Portugal? What a jet setter. You look like a real playboy. Who is Morrissey?


BOZ: You're not the first person to ask that lately sweetheart, he's a singer from England, he's staying here.

PATSY: (Looks on computer screen)We have nobody booked in under that name sir.

BOZ: No, of course not, silly me. How about Kenneth Williams?

PATSY: (Looks at computer screen) No sir.

BOZ: Charles Hawtrey?

PATSY: How are you spelling that?

BOZ: Blimey, I don't know, er, H-A-W-T-R-E-E? No, wait, I think that's how I spelt it on Mozzer's twitter thing the other week and he ended up hitting me for making such a schoolboy error, it's E-Y. H-A-W-T-R-E-Y.

PATSY: (Looks at computer) I'm sorry sir, we don't have anybody of that name staying either.

BOZ: (under his breath) For fuck's sake. (Pauses for thought, and then excitedly says) STANLEY BAKER, he MUST be Stanley Baker.

PATSY: (Looks at computer) We DO have a Mister Baker staying, but not a Stanley.


BOZ: Hold on gal, I'll give Moz a call. (Boz dials a number on his mobile (cell) phone and waits. There is no answer.) This is ridiculous, look, how about if I describe him. He's mid fifties (smirks to himself), greying hair, which may have some sort of quiff to it, and he's slightly balding on top, but don't tell him I said so. (The reception girl looks blank). He might be wearing a coloured plaster on his right index finger, particularly if it was a bad flight!

PATSY: (face lighting up) YES, YES we DO have somebody fitting that description staying here, a Mister Wycherley, he has a blue band aid on his finger and two bright red rings.

BOZ: THAT'S HIM, that's my man, what room number is he in darlin'?

PATSY: I'm sorry sir, I can't tell you that, I shouldn't really have told you his name.

BOZ: Well could you just ring up to his room for me then please, it really is VERY important, he's expecting me.

PATSY: (teasing her hair and looking adoringly into Boz's eyes) I shouldn't really, but I DO so love your accent, and you are such a handsome man. Who should I say is here for him?

BOZ: Boz Boorer.


BOZ: (surprised)You've heard of me?

PATSY: Heard of you? You're my frickin hero, I have ALL your albums. I am the Polecats BIGGEST fan. OH MY GOD, wait 'til I tell Joanie, she'll die. You can go on up to Mister Wycherley's room Mister Boorer, it's number seventeen thirty four. I am SO thrilled to have met you. I don't suppose you would sign my breasts would you?

(We cut to Morrissey's hotel bedroom. Morrissey is laying in bed with his glasses on, reading a newspaper, Boz Boorer is laying next to him, fast asleep and snoring loudly)

MOZ: (shaking Boz): WAKE UP WAKE UP

BOZ: (coming around) Patsy?

MOZ: PATSY? Boz, were you dreaming again?


BOZ: Oh, er, yeah, er, sorry Moz, I must've nodded off for a minute.

(It should be noted that Morrissey is in a Kenneth Williams style 'woe is me' type of  mood and actually makes for better reading if you imagine Moz saying it in a Kenneth Williams voice!)

MOZ: It's no wonder we haven't managed to cobble together a 'single' new song this year Boz, what with you spending half your time out in Portugal twiddling knobs for nobodies, and the other half fast asleep. (there is a pause for a minute or so as Moz pretends to carry on reading his newspaper) I honestly CANNOT remember the last time you handed me an half decent tune, or for that matter, a tune of ANY level of decency whatsoever, for me to add my lyrical genius to. (pause) It really ISN'T good enough Boz. (another pause) It was NEVER like this with Johnny, he NEVER dried up on me. (licks his lips). You do realise Boz, we're heading nowhere fast (smirks to himself behind his newspaper. )

BOZ: There's no need to mention 'HIM', and anyway, I thought you said there was no point in you writing any new songs without a record deal?

MOZ: (throws newspaper down on bed, aannoyed) I didn't say that! 'When' did I say THAT?

BOZ: In Hawaii, when we were celebrating my birthday. You said to me not to bother writing any new stuff for you until you'd signed a new deal.

MOZ: STUFF? Now I know you're lying Boz, when would I EVER use the word stuff? Mind you, 'stuff' is actually quite apt to describe some of your more recent work. I can't help but feel that my words to Art-Hounds were wasted on that lumpy backing track of yours, I wonder if it's too late to use the words elsewhere, I don't think anyone would notice. (pauses momentarily for thought). Anyway, I'd had a couple of drinks on your birthday, so if I DID say not to write any more songs, I certainly didn't mean it, and what is more Boz, you are a writer of music, it is what you do, so why would you stop just because 'I' told you to? Would you do 'anything' I say? Actually, don't answer that old son, there are certain things that don't need to be said.

BOZ: I didn't stop writing Moz, I just used all the new tunes for myself.

MOZ: Ah yes, 'Vicars and Tarts'.

BOZ: 'Some Of The Parts'.

MOZ: (smirking) Mmm, perhaps it's for the best that you've not submitted any tunes to me for a while. I suppose Jesse's told you about the three new mesmerizing tunes he's presented for my consideration?

(Boz doesn't reply, but instead, gets out of bed, scratches his balls (at which point Moz screws up his face in disgust and starts to re-read his newspaper), and then goes into the bathroom where he can be heard brushing his teeth and then gargling. As he gargles Moz again screws up his face in disgust. The shower is turned on. Boz emerges ten minutes later and starts to put his trousers on.)


MOZ: What are you doing?

BOZ: Getting dressed.

MOZ: Martin, do you not recall what I said to you when we arrived last night? The fans all think you're in LA, they think I'm here alone.

BOZ: I know, I tweeted it last week, just like you told me too. What's that got to do with me getting dressed?

MOZ: Boz, I don't want ANYBODY knowing that you are already here in New York, I need to keep up the pretence that a) we NEVER see each other when we aren't on stage, and b) that I spend all day every day holed up in a room on my own. It adds to my Garboesque.

BOZ: Pretence? You DO lock yourself away all day every day. You sit on twitter, pretending not to be you.

MOZ: BOZ! I have NEVER been on twitter in my life! Urgh, the very thought of ME, an international megastar, on such a cheap and degrading thing as twitter. How disgusting, how could you even suggest such a thing? Say sorry (glares at Boz).

BOZ: Sorry Moz.

MOZ: That's better. Now, back  to the point I was trying to make before you rudely interrupted me. The reason that you CANNOT get dressed in that attire, is because you CANNOT be seen in New York.

BOZ: But you said we were going to go and have a butcher's around that book shop.

 (*American readers please note, a 'butcher's' is a shortened version of 'butcher's hook', which is cockney rhyming slang for the word 'look'. Carry on*)

MOZ: And so we shall, but you will have to dress as Gaynor.

BOZ: Oh for fuck's sake, do I 'ave to?

MOZ: Yes Boz, you "'ave to." Now hurry up, and we can get going.

(Morrissey gets dressed in jeans and shirt, while Boz changes into his full stage drag costume, and puts his guitar on)


MOZ: Boz, what are you doing? You don't need a guitar, we're going down the shops.

BOZ: (Taking guitar off) Oh yeah, force of habit.

MOZ: Right, I'll set off first. Give me five minutes and then follow. We're going to Strand bookstore on the corner of twelfth and Broadway, do you know where that is?

BOZ: Yeah, I know, this outfit ain't half hot...

MOZ: ...mum (they both laugh). Stop moaning Boz. I'll see you in five minutes.

(Morrissey sets off and goes into Strand Bookstore, where he starts to look at books in the photographic section.)


(Half an hour passes but there is no sign of Boz. Moz then hears a clumping of stiletto heels coming towards him)

BOZ: Ah Moz, there you are, I've been looking all around this shop for you, I thought you'd be in the music section, or the arty farty bit, I didn't realise you'd be looking at picture books.

MOZ: They're not picture books Boz, I'm looking at books on American homosexuality in the nineteen fifties, they're really VERY interesting. They've given me a number of ideas for new stage back drops, here look. (Moz hands Boz half a dozen books).

BOZ: I don't think I can hold that many books Moz, I really do feel quite hot in this dress. Moz, I think I'm going to....(Boz faints)

PASSER BY 1: Oh my god, that lady's fainted.

PASSER BY 2: Somebody do something.

STRAND BOOKSTORE WORKER: Does anybody know first aid?

MOZ: (Moz picks up the books that Boz has dropped, and puts them into Boz's bag while nobody is looking.) Don't worry, I'll help him, I mean her. Moz gently lifts Boz and sits him up. Boz comes around.)


BOOKSTORE WORKER: (to the small crowd who have gathered) Wow, I recognise that guy, it's the former lead singer of eighties band The Smiths, it's Morrissey.

PASSER BY 3: The Smiths? Hell, aren't they supposed to be getting back together?

PASSER BY 4: Nah, that's just a rumour that won't go away. Morrissey would NEVER reform The Smiths, he'd rather eat his own balls, ain't that right Moz?

MOZ: (smiles politely) (whispers to Boz through gritted teeth) Don't say anything, they'll hear your voice.

BOOKSTORE WORKER: Morrissey, is that elderly lady ok?

BOZ: (sitting up) ELDERLY? Who are you calling el (Moz puts his hand across Boz's mouth).

MOZ: Try not to talk old thing. Can I get you some water? (Boz stands up and goes to grab Morrissey's throat before stopping himself and gently stroking his face instead).

PASSER BY 5: Ain't that sweet, the old gal's thanking him. I don't even think she knows who her saviour is.

(Morrissey hands Boz his bag, full of the stolen books, and both men hurriedly exit the store. Boz walks off around the corner, where Moz catches him up.)

MOZ: You got the books?

BOZ: Yep.

MOZ: Like Bonnie and Clyde, Boz, like Bonnie and Clyde, and tomorrow we'll hit the record shops.

(Both men go off into the sunset singing)

MOZ & BOZ: Shoplifters of the world, unite and take over, shoplifters of the world, hand it over, hand it over.



  1. Classic piece, thanks for recycling it, like a well-worn Boz melody. It's almost believable as well. I love the image of Moz and Boz, despite all the little niggles, being two pals comfortable with each other's company and behaving like naughty schoolboys.

  2. Hove, actually.

  3. dear mr rat
    please refrain from using busty type pics as your lead photo in the future
    my blog dashboard looked like I was following 'Loaded/Nuts blog.

    please always go with a nice moz pic

  4. Great 'stuff', Rats. Always fun to revisit classic posts. Happy weekend, everyone.

  5. Loved the real life story (well what we got to hear about it) of the Strand bookstore incident, and this FTM version has to be one of my favourites.


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