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August 19, 2003
I Wanna Boof, Baby
So today I wanna talk about ‘The Boof’.
As per usual on my weekend entries, I had a bit more time than usual to ‘construct’ my thoughts yesterday. I use ‘construct’ in quotation marks since, as is pretty evident by the slapdash style employed here, I hardly ever really know what I’m gonna write before I commit it to pixilated eternity. Just sorta go with the flow. It works on two levels: on one level, you the reader get unfettered access to the way my mind works; on another level, I’m spared the task of rewriting. So, it’s a you scratch my back, I sip a margarita while you do so, sort of arrangement.
Point of the matter is, I didn’t intend to drop some serious ‘Teen Wolf’ knowledge on all y’all. Just sorta happened. Tim posed me a query, I sat down at my keyboard, took a deep breath, popped a few pills, and boom, an essay did emerge. (If anyone has any idea how I ended up just outside of Worcester last night at 4 am, I’d love to know, incidentally.)
Many people often ask me, ‘Hey, Ryan, how do you keep coming up with new things to write about?’ OK, they don’t. Usually it’s my mother saying, ‘Um, people don’t think we dropped you on your head as a baby, do they?’ Still, coming up with new, exciting and endlessly offensive content is a daily challenge. As such, I’ve developed a few short hands so that I never dry up the cerebral well. Here are the basic ways a topic for the blog evolves:
1) I’m watching a TV show/movie or listening to a radio station/CD and inspiration strikes. I stop what I’m doing and find a computer quickly. Sometimes I need to pop into a Kinko’s before the idea flutters away like my cocaine slush fund. In times like these, I often write on my arm in magic marker in crunch time. If things get really bad, I mug a local camera crew, videotape my thoughts, and rush home to type them out.
2) Someone (OK, Tim) says, ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be great if you blogged about Topic X?’ These work pretty well since I don’t actually have to think about what to write. I can just react, and reacting is what I do best. I’m like a mirror, albeit a funhouse one. I reflect stuff back quite nicely; emitting from an original source is the hard part.
3) I’ll read something, go ‘Damnit, I wish I had thought of that,’ and go ahead and paraphrase unaccredited. Or make things up. (This example is sponsored by a grant from the New York Times.)
4) Gather a few random thoughts that had been swirling in my head, but were never worth more than 75 words of me energy apiece, link them through a BS topic sentence (thank you, English degree), and pretend like they have always been part of the same thought process, not a slapdash, desperate move to give them peoples what they so want, oh yes, so very nice-a.
5) Pull a Gertrude Stein and automatic type until the spell is broken. This is always a lot of fun for me, since it involves nothing so much as minimal amount of the time I have left remaining on this earth until I’m dead, buried, and filled with worms. Also, if anyone asks what the hell it’s supposed to be, I can give them a disdainful emoticon and say, ‘Well, if I HAVE to tell you, I guess you wouldn’t understand the answer, now would you?’
OK, now that the magic has been ruined for all of you (except for maybe The Cheat), let’s get to The Boof.
My brother yesterday thought that the Platonic notion of The Boof could be further explored, so already we’re in a Type 2 blog here, people, with the potential for Type 4 and Type 5 both making a guest appearance as the blog continues. Keep track at home, keep score, create posters, get some pom poms and don a cheerleader outfit, do some splits, and…damn, Type 5 hit already. Sorry. He’s usually much later in the entry than this.
Now, in keeping with the 80’s theme from yesterday, ‘The Boof’ is just another name for ‘The Duckie’. In both instances, what we’ve got is the terminally ‘uncool’, but extremely sweet friend who would treat as good, if not better, the people the protagonist either tries to get with or eventually does get. For instance, Blane isn’t a jackass, but we root for Duckie, mostly because scientists have found we’re genetically programmed to hate Andrew McCarthy. Seriously, look it up. 8th chromosome.
These people are ‘uncool’ because the social castes in these films are tighter than a Britney Spears tube top. Boof can play a mean basketball (albeit with a 50-year old guy, but he’s a werewolf, so that’s OK), and Duckie could be a serious rock star, as evidenced by his great lip synching in the record store. However, the generic ‘Bitchy Blonde Bimbo/Arrogant Male Bimbo’ will never let these people truly be accepted as cool. As such, our protagonist, who abides by these social structures until the final reel (usually breaking free from the shackles of conforming at the prom or in a karate tournament) cannot truly like ‘The Boof’ until said Boof has been humiliated by our hero figure, usually in public and/or a house party where a TERRIBLE SECRET is revealed, at roughly the 62 minute mark.
(Seriously. Go rent any of these films. Check out the running time. Do an over/under on ‘The Sh$t Hath Hit the Fan’ moment in the film…I’d pick ‘Running time of film minus 18 minutes’ every time. Good examples of this type of scene: the "He paid me!" scene in "Can't Buy Me Love". "It was all a bet!" in "She's All That!" Or "You-sa people gonna die??!!" from "The Phantom Menance". Thank you, Types 4 and 5, for this little aside.)
The function of The Boof is to make the audience go either ‘Awww’ or ‘You effin’ tool!’, depending on the demographic makeup of both The Boof and the audience watching said Boof. We as the audience see The Boof silently suffer throughout the film, waiting for the hero to wake up and do one of the following to The Boof:
- Kiss them
- Hug them
- Take them to the prom
- Knock them up
- Go on a 17-state killing spree
And so forth and so on. Many options. Point is, The Boof (with the lovely exception of ‘Not Another Teen Movie’, who spoofed this so great) generally gets something decent by the end. Duckie never got Andie, but he did get a generic 80’s big-hair ho, and really, that’s OK. Boof does get Scott, since, remember, Scott gets to deshackle himself from Pamela and get with the Original Boof herself in the final reel. A long road, from that fateful ‘7 Minutes in Heaven’ to ‘Climatic Just Be Yourself But Only If You Win the State Championship As Well’ moment.
Really, at any given part of our lives, we are a Boof to someone, or have a Boof we don’t know about. I like this idea, in that saying, ‘Dude, you’re so her Boof’ just makes me giggle. It’s also much less cruel that saying, ‘Dude, you’re never, ever gonna hit that. Ever.’ The incredibly overt gestures that the cinematic Boofs pull off are far from exaggeration, because in real life, we as Boofs do the most amazingly overt actions that either get ignored or misinterpreted all the time. Just outstanding. The object of our affection either plain ol’ can’t see, or perhaps won’t see it. Won’t get into the different scenarios today, maybe another time. Either way, no matter how many, ‘THIS time they will know how I really feel!’ scenarios they execute, it always misses its mark.
(The other variation of The Boof Pursuit, the ‘I love you I love you I love you, why don’t/can’t you love me back’ variety, will in real life end up in a lawsuit, and as such is not worthy of being discussed here.)
More annoyingly, we real life Boofs often don’t get our happy ending in 100 minutes or less. We do eventually get that happy ending though. Unless like, you get hit by a bus five minutes before achieving inner clarity. That would like, prevent the happy ending, is what I’m saying.
So here’s my meme of the month: The Boof. They are everywhere, all around us. (They're like the Matrix, without the living-in-squishy-pink-liquid aspect.) One serves you a sandwich at the deli today. Another sat next to you on the train. Another one asked you if you had accepted the Communist Party as your Lord and Savior. All around is, is what I’m saying. We need to re-examine our cinematic forefathers and see what we can’t learn from them. (Certainly not any fashion tips, that’s for certain.) Any tips you have learned would be appreciated.
In the meantime: Salt and Pepa, take us home:
Here I go, here I go, here I go again
Peeps, what’s my method? Pen! OK then.
To paper, to paper, puttin’ this stuff down
Type it all up, and then I just look around
At my screen, to see what I be typin’
And I say to myself, ‘Yo, I be hypin’
All up this joint, no doubt, no diggity
I wrote me an entry, now it’s time for a figgity
Newton, a cookie, a cracker, yo I don’t care
Gots me an appetite, why y’all gotta stare?
I’ve worked real hard, cuz my momma, she taught me right
Gotta publish something dope, before I hit the light
In my room, so I can just go to my bed
Get all them thoughts unstuck from inside my head
And maybe, just maybe, try something like a rap song
Give it a go, and see if they’ll go along
They might not, but really, yo, it’s all good
Cuz hardly any of them be livin’ in my neighborhood
So they can’t just like, come over to my house
Knock on the door, say, ‘Yo, where be that louse?’
Cuz I wouldn’t answer, hell no, they got poor grammar
I’ll just disappear like my man MC Hammer
From the spotlight, I’ll run real far away
Take my computer, and live to write another day
Cuz that’s how it is, livin’ here on the Blogside
Write down them words, and watch your own backside
Blog or be blogged, I’ll live to die another day
And just like Bond, I’m gonna find it my own way
To get things done, get the girl, save the planet
Y'all will be amazed, just stuck there like granite.
Makes me wanna Boof Boof Boof’
Word.
Posted by Ryan McGee at August 19, 2003 12:20 AM
Comments
Can I have your baby?
Posted by: Heather at August 19, 2003 08:16 AM
Dammit, I've realized I'm a Boof. I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in the friend zone. Ugh.
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 09:26 AM
My comment stemmed largely from the rapture felt when diggin on your lyrics. In the immortal words of Duckie when he arrives to take Andi out (but she's really waiting for Blane at the store) and she walks to the back for some more wishful make-uping... He smells his armpits and says " Do I Offend?"
Posted by: Heather at August 19, 2003 09:28 AM
For a limited time only, for only $19.95, sure you can! McGee's baby! Now with double-deuce action!
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 09:41 AM
Do you take VISA?
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 10:12 AM
I haven't seen Teen Wolf or Pretty in Pink, so I may need a bit of explanation (does Boof want Michael J. Fox? Even though he's a wolf?) but I do have a Deep Boofism to contribute today: Is Boof partly Boof *because* she is so accessible? Because her affection is so apparent? Does Mr. Wolfman want a challenge? Are Boofs partially Boofs because they don't hide their emotion?
By the way, Commander, I keep sending you an email and it keeps getting sent back to me. There is something going on with your Superman fans account...
Posted by: Megan at August 19, 2003 10:45 AM
*sigh* I know. Their server has crashed for the fourth time in two months. Try the email attached to this comment. (i.e., click on my name.)
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 10:52 AM
Boof likes Scott pre-Wolf, but everyone else likes him post-transformation, when he basically becomes a Michael Jordan whenever he transforms. Scott knows Boof likes him, but can't get over the "Typical Blonde Beeyotch" Archetypical Character.
I've said it before, but the name "Boof" did not help our damsel's case at all.
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 10:52 AM
But to your point, Megan, yes, I think accessiblility/attainability is inherent in a general Boof.
And on that note, none of you women can have me. None of you.
*waits for the stampede*
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 10:54 AM
Serious trouble right now... I was a Boof once, and then the guy decided to date me, for years. Then we split when I finally discovered that I was totally in love with him, but he was unemotionally available, despite his best efforts. Ok- so lad di da, I'm getting married in a month to a wonderful, available person and BOOM! The ex just walked into my office, right now he's sitting at a computer, "borrowing it." HELP!
Posted by: heather at August 19, 2003 11:20 AM
That's it. Let's go to work. Tim, get the shovel. Lori, get the pliers. Gaffney, get the cruellers.
Strong Mad...you just keep doing your thing, man.
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 11:25 AM
Armed and ready...
Heather, you have to WORK with your ex? That's awful! Girl, you need anyone's ass kicked, I'm there. I'm Irish after all.
You got the better end of the deal, it sounds like. Congrats on the engagement...
Posted by: Megan at August 19, 2003 11:29 AM
No, even better, his mother is my boss. Long story, but she was cool enough not to let our break-up affect things, matter of fact she kept telling him what a dumbass he was. So, he's just stopping by... haven't seen him in months. We Irish stick together don't we?
Thanks for the words, am feeling like I can breathe now...
Posted by: heather at August 19, 2003 11:34 AM
Be cool as a cucumber, that is what you do. Either pretend you don't see him, pretend to be working on something of great importance, or perhaps worse, walk by, be surprised to see him and feign delight at seeing him. It all depends on the effect you're looking for.
Needle nose pliers are a great torture device. My ex pinched his nipple once trying to remove his nipple ring. I laughed, he screamed.
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 11:39 AM
Oh thank god he left. We ended up chatting and he even asked me when the "Big Day" was. Overall pleasant conversation, yet strange since at one point he was a part of that Big Day dream of mine. He hugged me twice, hello and goodbye and said he was glad that I was happy. Analysis?
Posted by: Heather at August 19, 2003 12:07 PM
oh, and the creepy thing... the ex's name is Scott.
Posted by: heather at August 19, 2003 12:17 PM
Does he have on overabundance of body hair?
As I am not a man, I cannot offer any proper analysis. But it sounds like you handled it well.
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 12:20 PM
Actually no, but the wolf thing may still be up for grabs anyway. Thanks for all the support ladies. McGee? Foley? Your take on his behavior?
Posted by: Heather at August 19, 2003 12:26 PM
Did you spring a bear holding a shark on him? Cuz that would yield more conclusive results.
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 12:34 PM
What the hell? Maybe we shouldn't have children Ryan, I might not be able to comprehend them from time to time. Oh wait, that happens to all parents...
Posted by: heather at August 19, 2003 01:42 PM
Newest Strong Bad cartoon. (If you don't know what I'm saying, generally I'm quoting Strong Bad or MST3K.)
Link:
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 01:44 PM
Ok, I'm wracking my brain hear for a counter-example and can't come up with one...
Anyhow, I think we have to distinguish between male Boof and female Boof. At least in movie-land, because female Boof always ends up with leading man when he has his epiphany, but male boof, always ends up in the friend zone while leading lady finally finds true love with leading man.
Think of our current examples: 1.) Teen Wolf, Michael J. finally succumbs to Boof. 2.) Pretty in Pink, Duckie gets the shaft.
Other movies I'm thinking of:
Sixteen Candles - a.k.a. Pretty in Pink: the Early Years.
Some Kind of Wonderful - Watts (= Boof * Mary Stuart Masterson) finally convinces Eric Stolts in the end. Of course, who could resist the drum solo in the middle of the movie (which brings up another trope--The Boof Cool Montage).
So, someone please come up with a counterexample.
Wierd Science almost counts, except those guys are technically the leading men and not Boofs.
Posted by: RAY at August 19, 2003 01:47 PM
"Overall pleasant conversation, yet strange since at one point he was a part of that Big Day dream of mine. He hugged me twice, hello and goodbye and said he was glad that I was happy. Analysis?"
Total stab in the dark: you're taken. You're engaged. You're married. You're off the market. Did I mention you're unavailable? He now feels like you're "safe" to show affection and kind regard to in a way that he wouldn't if you were still single, lest he inadvertantly give you the wrong idea.
Hell, I'm Irish, too. You want this guy's ass kicked, I could use a workout.
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 01:51 PM
Wow- I've got a psych degree, should've totally seen that. Thanks for the offer Commander, I intend to save it for a rainy day.
McGee- should've known. Will no longer question your references. Deja Vu.
Posted by: Heather at August 19, 2003 01:57 PM
Wow. I've been tolerating an internet virus at work all day, so I'm only joining the conversation now. Lots to be learned to day methinks. I've seen that Boofs are more abundant than we think and that we should stick together for support -- even those with their Boof days long behind them. I've learned from Heather's situation what to do should I ever see my ex-boyfriend again (and not what I did last time...don't ask). So thanks to the lot of you.
Only thing I don't know now is how to deal with your own Boofs when you find them without leading them on or breaking their hearts. I'm Irish too, but....oy.
Posted by: Diana at August 19, 2003 03:19 PM
Good point, Leopold Bloom.
Can we can call the support group "The Boof Bunch"?
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 03:24 PM
Also, Chloe on "Smallville?" Classic Boof.
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 03:25 PM
Also, RAY, does John Cusack in "Say Anything" count as a counterexample?
I mean, that's a movie where one could argue the Boof is the protagonist. And the male Boof gets his girl.
Other Boofs: The insanely hot blacksmith from "A Knight's Tale", Anthony Michael Hall by default in "The Breakfast Club", and Luke Skywalker, c#ck-blocked by genetics.
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 03:30 PM
One might argue Donna from "The West Wing" is clearly in the Boof role, even though she did get to date Christian Slater and flirt with Matthew Perry.
OK, fine, so I just like bringing up Donna from "The West Wing" in general.
The problem with male Boofs is they're so often written as perpetuating the Boof Cycle. Even as I typed that Chloe was a classic Boof, I realized that season 1 Clark was basically a Boof himself, but by Chloe being a Generation 2 Boof to his Generation 1 Boof, it sort of cancels out his Boofness. Scott himself, pre-lycanthropy, might be considered a Boof were it not for the presence of the Boof-Prime herself, which somehow makes his Boofness seem small potatoes.
And it's all I can do not to go into the "El Guapo" speech from "The Three Amigos" right now.
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 03:38 PM
What I want to know, and maybe I need to watch the Boof movie examples again, is how to get of of my Boof situation. The situation is slightly different, in that he knows I exist as a woman (makes too many remarks on nice physical attributes), yet has made no gestures of wanting to move this relationship in any direction other than friendship.
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 03:39 PM
I'm not sure the Boof movies would help. I have yet to have a Cameron Crowe moment that actually worked.
Is there a reason why you don't want to ask him out? Aside from "it's the guy's job" or "there's too much at risk"? The Strange Case of the Sneezing Girl has put the idea foremost in my mind that occasionally being direct is a better way to go than trying to be fancy and crafty.
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 04:13 PM
I'd love to start the "Asking Someone Out Need Not Cause So Much Stress" Movement. Maybe that could be my great contribution to society. That or the "Convince Women that Non-Jerky Men Appreciate Direct Women Since We Almost Never Know What You're Thinking" Movement.
Either one, really.
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 04:16 PM
As they say, better to regret doing something than doing nothing. I've asked guys out and been denied and asked guys out and been accepted, but either way I knew.
Carpe diem! Et tu Brut-ay! Chalupa!
Posted by: Megan at August 19, 2003 04:20 PM
Yeah, "et tu, Brute" really should be you watchword, though. We don't want Lori getting stabbed 13 times on the Senate floor.
"Chalupa" is perfectly acceptable, however.
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 04:25 PM
"Gordita", however, is right out.
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 04:28 PM
Right now, it's the "too much at risk" factor keeping me from asking him out. A couple of weeks ago, I thought I would do the easy way out and hit on him while we were both drunk. I ask to kiss him, he says yes, but it never happened because our friends came back in the room. The next day I told him that I hoped I hadn't freaked him out, and he says no, he was drunk, and I say the same. No mention of it since. So I am thinking that I am a definite Boof situation, and perhaps should leave it to him. But as Megan stated, Carpet Diaz!
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 04:29 PM
So I should just sieze the gordita, take life by the chalupa, and suggest dinner, a movie, and some heavy petting for the weekend?
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 04:32 PM
Wow. I am useless to you. Can we get some guy in here who does drink to help Lori out? What did the above mean?
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 04:33 PM
At this point, Lori, sounds like you need a bed-and-breakfast with a Taco Bell in it.
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 04:35 PM
Okay, now I'm going to be annoying and say that perhaps you might want to wait? Sounds like the ball is in his court now, since he didn't really press the issue when you discussed it. He might be conflicted/afraid/closeted, in which case I would let him take the reins.
Or listen to a chauwawa and go for it. It gives you closure, but it's more of a risk...
Posted by: Megan at August 19, 2003 04:36 PM
You know, I don't have to understand the response to the drunken non-kiss. I stand by my earlier assertion, just on principle. If you feel the benefit outweighs the risk, go for it. If you don't, refrain. But only you can put out Boof fires... erm, I may have mixed my metaphors there...
Posted by: Commander Foley at August 19, 2003 04:39 PM
Yes, Megan, that's what I was thinking, that I have put things in his hands. I just needed confirmation. But I'll be on the lookout for a Taco Bell BnB. Do you think they leave mini-tacos on the pillows instead of chocolates?
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 04:43 PM
Carpe Diaz? Wouldn't Justin T. be upset?
Posted by: ryan at August 19, 2003 04:55 PM
I'm surprised that Taco Bell has never offered taquitos at 25 cents, but fast food is so beyond my realm.
So Lori, I have been learning in the past couple of months that nothing good can come from letting something stew. (especially anything involving a flour tortilla) The actual action of asking him out will at least spare you the torture of agonizing over what he really thinks, because he'll have no choice but to tell you. And even if crossing that bridge when you come to it means traversing the Holland Tunnel, you at least know where you have to go.
Besides, there's a possibility that when you mentioned that you hope you didn't freak him out he got the idea that you thought your making a move was a drunken mistake.
I really hope this works out for you....
Posted by: Diana at August 19, 2003 04:57 PM
Justin might not be too upset if she were carpetted with a nice oriental. Maybe a Lucy Liu rug or something. With some nice end tables.
Thanks, Diana! I appreciate everyone's help with my Boof situation.
Posted by: Lori at August 19, 2003 05:02 PM
AUTHOR: Thom Rafferty
EMAIL: zappedfan@yahoo.com
IP: 24.97.97.161
URL: http://clubs.lycos.com/live/Directory/CommunityHome.asp?CG=13aiog79era13fn8004cfqcon4
DATE: 10/01/2003 10:14:38 AM
Posted by: Thom Rafferty at October 1, 2003 10:14 AM
Jon and Susan Ursitti Sheinberg
Posted by: Thom Rafferty at October 1, 2003 10:15 AM
I've always had a bit of a crush on Boof ever since I saw Teen Wolf. I always wondered what she looks like now, ty Thom Rafferty
Posted by: Anthony at January 24, 2004 03:48 AM