Fun to Say

rfv-coverSome words are fun to say. And if you’ve never seen or heard the Vestibule’s performance of “Bulbous Bouffant”, you are missing out on a ton of them.

The premise is that a word lover approaches a man waiting for the bus and strikes up a conversation. In the fullness of time, a third man joins the conversation and they all start throwing out fun words to say.

Here are the lyrics:

Man 1: Hi.
Man 2: Hello.
Man 1: Are you waiting for the bus?
Man 2: Uh, yes I am, actually.
Man 1: Hm.
Man 1: I noticed you’re not wearing any GALOSHES.
Man 2: Uh, no I’m not…it’s uh…it’s sunny out…uh…no need for galoshes.
Man 1: I’M wearing galoshes.
Man 2: Hm.
Man 2: Uh huh.
Man 1: Did’ja read the paper today?
Man 2: Uh, no, I haven’t had a chance.
Man 1: Did you read the thing about the ESKIMOS?
Man 2: No.
Man 1: Well the article was saying that the Eskimos will eat the FAT from the whale.
Man 2: Oh, yeah.
Man 1: Do you know what that’s called?
Man 2: Uh, no, uh, I don’t.
Man 2: Oh, right.
Man 2: Yeah, blubber.
Man 1: That’s what it’s called.
Man 2: Uh huh.
Man 2: Right.
Man 1: The Eskimos eat the BLUBBER.
Man 2: Uh huh.
Man 1: And the BLUBBER will come from different kinds of whales, you know?
Man 2: Oh, yeah.
Man 1: Sometimes it will come from a Beluga whale.
Man 2: Uh huh.
Man 2: Right, yeah.
Man 1: Heh heh. They don’t wear galoshes.
Man 2: Who the, the whales?
Man 2: Oh no. That’s right, they don’t.
Man 1: They wear MUKLUKS!
Man 2: Uh huh.
Man 2: That’s right; mukluks.
Man 2: Yeah…mukluks.
Man 1: Say it again.
Man 2: Mukluks.
Man 1: Say it LOUDER.
Man 2: MUK–LUKS!
Man 1: Um hmm…good eh?
Man 2: Yeah, it is a good one…I didn’t want to say it but uhh….I like it…
Man 1: Say say say GALOSHES.
Man 2: Galoshes.
Man 1: Heh heh…it’s good, eh?
Man 2: Yeah, it’s good.
Man 1: Galoshes!
Man 2: Galoshes!
Man 1: Balooooooooogah!
Man 2: Baloogah.
Man 1: Blubber blubber blubber blubber…
Man 2: Blubber MUKLUK!
Man 1: Blubber…BALOOGAH!

Man 3: Uh, excuse me.
Man 2: Ahem.
Man 3: Sorry, um….I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever it was you were doing there…
Man 2: Oh nah…it’s OK!
Man 3: Uh, ok. I just wanted to know if this is where the bus stops?
Man 2: Uh yeah, ah…it should be here any minute actually.
Man 3: OH, I see. Well, sorry to disturb you.
Man 2: That’s ok, we were just….uhhhh…..
{long pause}
Man 1: Sir.
Man 3: Yes?
Man 3: Yeah.
Man 1: Look over there.
Man 3: Across the street?
Man 1: Yeah, yeah yeah.
Man 3: Um-huh.
Man 1: See that LADY?
Man 3: Yes.
Man 1: What kind of a hairstyle does she have?
Man 3: Uh, that looks like a bouffant.
Man 3: Yes, a bouffant.
Man 2: Uh, actually, I…I couldn’t help noticing that myself, it’s sort-of what you might call a, a bulbous bouffant.
Man 3: Yes, a bulbous bouffant.
Man 3: Bouffant.
Man 2: GALOSHES!!!
Man 1: Heh heh. Mukluks!
Man 2: Bulbous bouffant.
Man 1: Mukluk mukluk. heh heh.
Man 1  & 2: Ooooooohhhhhhhhh. heh heh.
Man 3: Macadamia.
Man 1: Ga-ze-bo!
Man 2: Bulbous bouffant.
Man 3: Macadamia.
At this point, it breaks completely into a song… so I’ll leave off here.

Here’s an alternate version that I found in video form. Of course, in this version, they don’t actually say “Bulbous Bouffant”. So it goes.

Anyway, what is your favorite word to say?


On the Origin of Mosey


It’s been a while since I’ve done an etymology post, as I haven’t come across any words and needed to know where they came from (it’s a passing fancy, I guess). But knowing that I enjoy etymology, I decided to find a word to look up.

I settled on my last name. When people ask for my last name, I usually say, “Mosey, like to saunter or walk slowly”, since that is the meaning as used down south. It helps differentiate me from any Mosleys out there (as that is the most common misspelling of my name). But where did that “walk slowly” meaning come from?

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the origin is unknown, but it is most likely related to the British dialectal “mose” which means to “go around in a dull, stupid way.”

Not very uplifting.

But it is possible that it has some Spanish origins in “Vamos”, which means “to go”. That’s a bit nicer to believe.

In any case, it isn’t like I’m going to change it now. Not legally, at least. Although, I may stop correcting people if they call me “Mosley” on accident.

Creator of Worlds

Over the weekend, I started creating a new world. Well, maybe not a whole world. But a town. I started creating a town.

But there’s still a lot to consider when you create a town.

I was working at Rock the Coast on behalf of Baker Book House, running the booth, selling CDs, books, and jewelry. But in between customers, I was dreaming up people and places, names, jobs, and small histories. I asked my coworkers for help in figuring out the businesses that must be represented within any small town. We came up with quite a list:

Grocer, Police, Volunteer Fire Dept., Gas Station/Convenience Store, School, Plumber/Handyman, Construction, Pastor, Bookstore (maybe you don’t think this is necessary, but I do), Mechanic, Electronics Repairman, Barber/Beautician, Doctor, and so on.

It goes on and on.

And the thing about creating is that everyone needs a story, a place to live, something to do for money, something to spend money on, hobbies, loves, flaws. And every person, business and building needs a name.

It takes a lot of creative energy.

I can understand why God needed a rest after six days of non-stop creation. And he wasn’t just working on a small town. He was doing it all.

Perhaps I have a god complex, but I really enjoy the creation process. I always have. As a child, I made stories with my Lego people, created places for them to live, jobs for them to have, and reasons for them to do what they did. In college, I was hooked on The Sims, starting characters, building houses, and the rest. And I recently posted how much I enjoy creating new characters for another computer game (Diablo II).

Creating something from nothing but thought is intoxicating!

And so I am creating my small town. Moose Lake, Michigan. And I can’t wait to fill it with stories.


I am a Millennial

Jonaya Kemper sews her own sundresses and grows her own vegetables, embodying the do-it-yourself mindset of many in the millennial generation. (Christina House, For The Times / May 15, 2013)

I was listening to NPR recently, and a story about Millennials (people aged 18 to early 30’s) caught my ear. They were talking about student loans, credit cards, and the attitudes of different generations toward debt.

I think they were referencing this story from the LA Times written by Emily Alpert. Here’s a snippet:

Millennials, who range from teenagers to people in their early 30s, are more financially cautious than the stereotype of the spendthrift twentysomething, several studies suggest. Many embrace thrift.

Some experts say their habits echo those of another generation, those who came of age during the Great Depression and forged lifelong habits of scrimping and saving — along with a suspicion of financial risk.

The article goes on to say that Millennials have fewer credit cards and less credit card debt. We avoid large financial purchases like cars and homes. And we spend less annually on entertainment than our 65 to 74 year-old counterparts.

Another article snippet:

“As a kid, if you had a patch on your jeans it wasn’t cool — people made fun of me,” said Jonaya Kemper, a 27-year-old preschool teacher who grows her own vegetables and sews her own sundresses. “Now they ask, ‘Can you teach me?'”

I can attest to this lifestyle and attitude toward debt. After we married, my wife and I made a point of not taking college classes that we couldn’t pay for immediately. We don’t carry a balance on our credit card, and we are well on our way to paying off our 5-year car loan in under one year. The majority of the clothes that my family wears are either from thrift shops or we have owned and worn them for over five years.

Perhaps my wife and I are cheap, but I would rather be thrifty than pay interest on credit cards or loans. And I don’t think it is just a thrift mindset at work either.

I have known three families to lose all of their things to fire. My neighbor told me the other day that there have been some daytime burglaries in our area recently. I think about the things in my house, and aside from my wife and girls, nothing else is worth risking my life over. Sure, it would stink if someone stole my extended edition Lord of the Rings DVDs, and yeah, it would be a pain to replace my book collections from P.G. Wodehouse, Kurt Vonnegut, and others, but things get stolen and things burn.

I didn’t know that this was a prevalent feeling among people in my age category before the NPR reference to the LA Times story. It’s good to know that I’m in good company.

My Grandpa was Full of Little Jokes | Memorial Day 2012

Here’s a piece I wrote for last year. I’ll be enjoying this Memorial Day with my wife and family! Have a happy and safe holiday!

Josh Mosey

I wrote this back in 2008 after my grandpa died. He was a serviceman in the US Navy during WWII. In the spirit of Memorial Day, I wanted to share this and remember him and his service, both to our country and to his family.

God bless you Norman Mosey.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My grandpa always used to read the obituary section. He said that if he didn’t see his name there, he knew that he wasn’t dead. It was one of his little jokes.

He was full of little jokes.

When I would ask for a half glass of orange juice, he would ask…

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Shoe on the Other Foot

Years ago, I was the music buyer at Baker Book House. I was responsible for making sure that we had the right mix and quantity of music and videos for the store to sell. I was also the store’s trainer. It was a good fit. Traffic in music was slower than the customer service desk (where the previous store trainer trained people), so I was able to actually train new employees how to do the basics without being interrupted all the time. I don’t want to brag, but I think I was a pretty good trainer.

Well, I was a good trainer to the people who listened when I was training them.

A while back, I wrote about Erin Farias and how I struggled with liking her as a fellow employee. That started just about as soon as she was hired, since I was the person responsible for teaching her how to do her job well. When other trainees would pay attention and seek to impress me with their work ethic, Erin was in Erin-land. She would welcome guests who came into the department, have long conversations with them, make friends with her other co-workers, and do everything but pay attention when I am training her how to alphabetize and categorize and whatever-else-erize.

There was one day when I came home from work, frustrated because I had asked Erin to shelve a cart of music while I took lunch. When I got back from lunch, she had shelved maybe three CDs out of the hundred or so on the cart.

“She’s so slow!” I complained to my wife. “It took her half an hour to do something that should have taken five minutes! I don’t know what she was doing!”

“You need to have patience with her,” said my wife. “She’s probably gifted in ways that you aren’t, just like you are gifted in shelving CDs quickly.”

Fast forward to a few days ago.

I had the day off because I am working this Saturday at Rock the Coast, helping with a book table at the concert. I got to spend the whole day with my girls (sans my wife who was working, per her usual schedule). My day was pretty wide open as far as what I could do. I just needed to watch the girls, change diapers and feed them as needed, write a blog post, make the family some dinner, and sweep the floors. Easy as cake.

Well, I took full advantage of my time with my daughters. We played. We went for a walk with the double stroller. My oldest got to play in her outdoor playhouse while I fed the youngest a bottle. A great time was had by all. I fed and changed, blogged and made dinner. But with all the time I had, I didn’t find time to sweep the floors.

Last night, I had a meeting at church and DeAnne watched the girls by herself. I was gone for just over an hour. In that time, my wife made dinner, made lunches for the following day, started laundry, packed the girls’ bag for daycare the next day, fed and changed the girls, and took the dog out once or twice. I was amazed by the amount of stuff she was able to do in one hour while I was unable to do the same amount in eight hours.

And then she reminded me about the time I complained about Erin shelving three CDs.

I had no right to judge. Live and learn.


Bad Advice with Chico Martinez | 4 Ways to Beat Writer’s Block

19th_century_knowledge_mechanisms_homemade_concrete_block_mold_partsHola! It’s your old pal Chico here. Do you ever get blocked up in your writing? Do your words run away when you need them most? Do sentences and paragraphs disappear like, um, something that disappears when you look for it? Well, fear not. Chico has four ideas to help you get out of that writing slump!

  1. Plagiarise! The good things are probably all written anyway, right? Why not just put your name to someone’s work and claim it as your own?
  2. Don’t call it writer’s block; call it research. Go to the library and look up obscure details about whatever it is you are supposed to be writing about. Or better yet, just sit in your house and use the internet! And when you are tired of researching your topic, take a break with some well-earned game/television time. You’ve earned it!
  3. Um, hmm.

I guess I didn’t have as many ideas as I thought. Lo siento! Anyway, back to playing games and plagiarizing for Chico!

100 Word Challenge | The points were sharp

Rolf the royal coinmaster didn’t have time for this.

“The king won’t be happy if you kill his coinmaster,” he said, looking along the shafts. The points were sharp, but not as sharp as Rolf.

“His happiness ain’t our concern,” said a highwayman. “His gold is.”

“First, you may wish to authenticate the gold. His majesty oft uses counterfeits as decoys.”

One of highwaymen lowered his crossbow, picked up a coin, bit it and passed it to the other who did the same.

“Seems real enough to me,” he said.

“Good,” said Rolf. “Unfortunately, if it isn’t a decoy, it’s been coated with poison.”


Happy 7 Years 9 Months!

My wife and I were married on August 20, 2005. Our first date was February 20, 2004. The 20th is kind of a thing for us, I guess.

On the 20th of every month, we always try to beat the other person to saying “Happy However-Many-Years-And-Months”. My wife almost always wins because she is more observant and has a better memory than me. And yesterday was no exception. She bested me again.

And so, I would like to honor her winning streak by telling the world a few things that I love about my wife.

  1. She is good at math. This makes sense, because she is an accountant and that’s one of the requirements. But she also does a great job with managing our home’s finances and making sure that bills get paid on time.
  2. She likes the right books and dislikes the right music. I know that opposites attract, and I think that is true when it comes to personality types and abilities, but it is really nice when your interests and preferences line up. I’m so thankful that my wife likes young adult fiction and fantasy and dislikes country and rap music.
  3. She is an incredible mother to our girls. My wife gives sacrificially of her time and energy to take care of our girls. She always builds them up, reads with them, and plays with them regularly.
  4. She has the most wonderful smile in the world. Seriously, when she smiles, clouds scamper of with their rains between their legs.
  5. She encourages me to read the Bible daily. We’ve gone through the Bible once together and we’re well on our way through again.
  6. She always has a kind word for me and never tears me down. Insults and anger don’t have any place in our home. I’m so glad for her attitude!
  7. She is supportive of my writing. She regularly sacrifice time with me so I can pursue my dream of publication. She helps me bounce ideas and reads over my stuff to make sure that it makes sense.
  8. She doesn’t have expensive tastes. We are a frugal couple and we make do with what we have. I’m so thankful that I don’t need to worry about whether our electric bill will get paid because we spent too much on purses.
  9. She has a wonderful sense of humor. Once, she made me a Father’s Day card that featured a cute little bunny and said, “You are not the father.” I am the father, by the way. No doubts about it.
  10. She is quick to forgive. Whenever I do mess up, it isn’t long until apologies are accepted and we move on. And she never holds it over head or brings it up later.
  11. She is always looking for ways to fill my love-tank. Whether it is an email with a corny joke or a kiss or kind word, she’s always seeking out new ways to show me love.

I was only planning on doing 10 things that I love about my wife, but then an extra one snuck in there. Oh well.

Next month, I fully plan on beating her to saying “Happy 7 years, 10 months” on the 20th.

I love you Bunny Lynne!


I am a Level 24 Barbarian

I mentioned a long time ago that one of my guilty pleasures is playing Diablo II. I still haven’t played Diablo 3, as I don’t use much of my time for video games any more (there are too many books to read (and write)). And anyway, its been since before our youngest was born that either my wife or I have played Diablo II (and even longer since either of us has played it for more than a few minutes since our oldest was born almost three years ago).

But we got the urge to play the other night. After the girls went to bed, of course.


I introduced Diablo II to my wife in our first year of marriage. At the time, she enjoyed sitting next to me and watching me play. Finally, I goaded her into creating a character and playing a bit. Once we were both playing, there were a lot of nights where we played for extended periods of time, defeating evil and growing closer through shared activity and time spent together. After we had kids, things died down a bit.

In pulling up the character list, I realized one of the differences between my wife and I.


She is a one-character girl, whereas I am a many-character guy. My wife has been working on the same character for the past five years. She’s defeated Diablo in the Normal realms and the Nightmare realms. She’s currently fighting in Hell mode.


Her assassin, Erica, can destroy in ways that I can’t even fathom.  Here are her stats and inventory.


She’s a level 76 Assassin. Her armor is made up almost exclusively from limited set items (which are more powerful than normal armor) and she has found ways to overcome the lack of resistances that are inherent in Hell mode.

She is very impressive.

And then there’s me.

I’m a level 24 Barbarian named Boris. At least, that’s who I am when I choose to play as a Barbarian. I have yet to defeat Diablo with Boris so I’m stuck playing in the Normal realms.


I depend heavily on charms to protect me, since I don’t carry a shield (I prefer the Barbarian’s ability to wield two weapons at the same time).

And then there’s this guy. His name is Bruce.


I just started him the last time I played. He’s a level 6 Druid. I set up his character so that when he dies in the game, there is no bringing back his character. It’s a bit riskier, but I’ve been told that the rewards are better when you play that way.

When you add up the different characters that I’ve created and played as on this computer, I’m a level 98 conglomeration of destruction. But really, you can’t add those things up, and none of my characters can hold a broadsword to my wife’s assassin.

She just stick with things really well. And I’m thankful. Because it means that she isn’t going to abandon me anytime soon.

What does that say about me? Not much, I don’t think. Though I have a few different characters that I enjoy using in Diablo, I haven’t played in forever because my family needs more time than I can spare on things like video games. Family is just too important.

And you know what? The other night when the urge to play struck, we didn’t actually play. By the time the girls finally went to bed, the urge to play had passed, replaced by the urge to sleep. Perhaps someday I’ll get the chance to bring Boris up to level 76, but it won’t be for a while and it isn’t that important anyway.

I’m just glad to spend time with my family when I can (and writing takes up the rest).