Internal Monologue: Jim Bowden’s Night Out

Hoo, brother. Could use this. Lately, I’ve been going to bed at night thinking of the nap I’m going to take the next day. Gotta make some changes. Dark-wash jeans, the kind of cuffed shirt that makes the velvet ropes recoil. Nice start, Jimmy Dollars, nice start. Not gonna act my age tonight, no sir. Hoobastank, yes. Linda Ronstadt, no. But just for tonight. From now on, I’m only reading books that have a studio portrait of the author on the cover. Those are the books that teach you stuff. Wonder if this limo has seat-belts. Is it lame if I put on a seat-belt in a limo? I’m not gonna be able to relax if I’m riding bareback in this death machine. I feel young, but I still know I’m mortal. Which sucks. I know the stats on these things. I wonder if limos are more likely to crash. You’d have to think the driver is more distracted than other drivers, right? Lotsa neckin’ to check out in the rear view. But he’s experienced, right? Eh, I’ll be fine. Need a scotch. But I might go with a Bud Light Lime in one of those aluminum bottles, the kind that makes your palms go numb because it’s at the perfect temperature. That’s probably what these bosses drink, right, Jimmy Radios? Damn right. Do I still have John Smiley’s cell number? I think I do. Should call that guy some time. Seafood dinner. Sounds good. Sea bass. Maybe punt the Atkins for tonight and have some russet potatoes with some McCormick herbs on top, sauteed in Quaker State. Boom time. She’s looking damn good. Might need a carrot peeler to get that dress off. Right, Jimmy Horn o’ Plenty? Bah. What does that even mean? Carrot peeler. Dress isn’t even that tight. Irish diabetes. Whoa! What does that mean? Where did that thought come from? Palm Pilot’s buzzing. Ignore it, daddy-o. But I wanted them to know I was ignoring it. Forgot to turn the ringer on. What’s my ring-tone? “Send in the Clowns,” right? Yeah, that’s it. It’s all good, Hollywood. Scooby-dop-bah-dah-bah-doo-bop-bop! Damn right, Jimmy Hotbot Snot. Good night ahead. Chicken parm, ain’t no harm, baby babe. Right on, German Herman, action-sports highlights with Len Berman! Boomity boomstick, private dick! What’s the deal with this limo, don’t they make whitewall tires anymore? Is Roman Gabriel still alive? Should look that up. I could beat most living Grammy winners in arm-wrestling. Sure of it. No doubt, brook trout. Gospel according to Jimmy Good Times! Shit …

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Handsome Dayn Perry can be found making love to the reader at's Eye on Baseball. He is available for all your Twitter needs.

11 Responses to “Internal Monologue: Jim Bowden’s Night Out”

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  1. Dan W. says:

    Holy Fuck. This is magical

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  2. dp says:

    Jaw wide open, corners of the mouth upturned in pleasure.

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  3. deadhead says:

    I’d like to see Jim Bowden pop Keith Law upside his smug, little head. Maybe after a few Miller 64s he’ll have the gumption and wherewithal to do so. I may be in the minority, but I really want to see KLaw knocked unconscious. Make it so, Mr. Bowden… go hands of steel, Ronnie Garvin on him.

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    • J Walter Weatherman says:

      In the minority of wishing harm on someone you don’t know? I find that hard to believe. Seems like a totally rational position to take

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  4. oldschoolways says:

    Hoobastank yes, Linda Ronstandt no.

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  5. drtrix says:

    After reading this beauty of a monologue, I was curious as to what Jimmy has been up to lately. However, Bowden’s Wiki reads as if it was composed by a drunk walrus

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  6. Brilliant work, Dayn. I miss you at NotGraphs.

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  7. Kyle says:

    God this is awesome.

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  8. martyn says:

    This is up there with ‘Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock’, surely!

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  9. Wisesamwell says:

    I found this article to be thoroughly classless Dayn. It just completely lacked class. I don’t know how I would express this via twitter if I only had 140 characters. I might say that it was offensive to the distinguished gentlemen and ladies in the picture as it portrays them as doing something other than what they are most clearly doing, attending a lecture on the virtue of temperance at the Southern Bible Institute with talks by Bristol Palin and Matt Garza.

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