The BHC Nation “Order of the Notorious” Inductee #2 – Wendy Foster

Inductee #2 – Wendy Foster.  This is how it all began.  That, right there, is the first picture I ever took with a lady.  That is Ms. Wendy Foster, Hooter’s Girl of the Year 2o1o.  Don’t you just love her?  I do.  Well, of course I do.  Wendy has taken me with her on trips to Hooters Calender signings, where I got my picture taken with more hot ladies, but here’s some stuff you don’t get to see on those pictures.  Each night she would sit me on the nightstand next to her bed and we would stay up all night talking about what we wanted in a mate, our futures, the chances of a “Beauty and a Bobble” reality show and so much more.  They were some of the greatest nights of my life.

    But Wendy is more than just a pretty face, she’s got an amazing body too.  Seriously, she’s as sweet as honey.  There has never been a time that I’ve walked into the local Hoot and Wendy wasn’t there with a huge smile and a warm greeting.  That’s just the kind of person that she is.  When she first met me, there was never any doubt in her mind that I would one day be the brightest star in the bobble universe.  With that kind of support how could I not become famous.  Wendy gave me the first nudge.  And for that I thank her and love her.

     Wendy has moved recently and is no longer in my life on a regular basis, but that doesn’t change what she means to me or her place in the pantheon that is the BHC Nation.  I wish her the best in all her pursuits and hope that life finds her in a happy place everyday.


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The BHC Nation “Order of the Notorious” inductee #1 – Jeff Vash

Shrine Inductee #1 – Jeff Vash.  Without Jeff, the Nation would not be possible.  During the very first days of my life on Facebook, Jeff was there suggesting all his friends.  So many of you are a direct result of his passion of all things bobble.  Now there’s some things I would like to make up about Jeff right now.  He’s been to Turkey.  Absolutely, not true.  Don’t even know if he’s a fan of the poultry or not.  He’s was at Top Gun Academy in Mira Mar.  Again, total fabrication.  Though, Jeff is so cool he would eat Tom Cruise’s lunch like Jester did, Jester’s not dead, d-bag, that stunt took place below the flight deck.  Whatever.  Jeff ain’t no Top Gun pilot, that’s all I’m saying. 

     Now for a few truthes, as I understand them, about Mr. Vash.  This dude throws a good party.  Actually, it’s a family trait, a helluva good one.  Many were the nights that the bodyguard would sit at the Vash’s patio table and drink himself slightly more stupid.  The parties were amazing.  There was the Dragon Tail shot wheel at one of the Casa Soprano parties.  Mind you this was an 1,100 square foot, three bedroom apartment.  The back yard, if you could call it that was maybe 10×30 and I swear there were over a 100 people at that party.  It was craziness.  Another truth about Jeff, he’s an amazing friend.  He supports his friends like no man I have ever met.  It was because of that nature Jeff was so selfless with his friend list at the begining.  For some reason that I still don’t quite understand, he believed in the idea of me more than the bodyguard.  Where the bodyguard saw a fun situation, Jeff saw a phenomenon.  I don’t think I”m quite to that stage yet, but we’re certainly getting there. 

     So I wish to take this time to publicly thank Jeff and welcome him as the first member of The BHC Nation “Order of the Notorious”.  Without you, sir, this Nation would be smaller than a Mel Gibson fan club.  People like you, the fun, good hearted, silly people of the world make the whole thing possible.  You gave me a direction that I don’t think I would have found without you and for that alone you deserve for more praise than just being the first Nation member inducted into the “Order of the Notorious”.  Thanks Jeff.

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The Order of the Notorious

Hey folks, BHC here.  Today is a very special day as I am introducing a new feature to the Nation.  The Order of the Notorious.  So many of you out there deserve recognition for your support and love of the Nation.  This is my way of thanking you.  Some people will be included because of what they have done to better the Nation, some for contributions to the bodyguards life, some for just being totally awesome.  Over the course of the day I will be revealing the first 5 inductees into the Order of the Notorious. 

    These people don’t just deserve your love and respect, they deserve statues to be erected in their likeness.  If I had millions of dollars I would start a college scholarship in the name of each one of these fine people.  Unfortunately, all I can do right now is offer them my thanks.  So, please, go to their walls and congratulate them.  Tell them thank you for all they have done.  Make them feel the way that they so often make others feel, loved and respected.

     Without further ado I give you the first 5 members of the Order of the Notorious.  Long may they live and long my the Nation rise.

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Love Defined

Hey folks. BHC here. I got asked a great question by a Nation member the other day. Whilst I was in the middle of a flirting session that would have made George Clooney proud, the object of my affection stumped me. And folks, believe me when I say that there are very few times when Yours Truly is at a loss for words. She asked me, what at first I thought was a very simple question, “How do you define love?”. Then it dawned on me that it was a bigger question than I had first given credit.BHCLove. It’s not a scary word, though it is 4 letters. And really, aren’t the 4 letter words the best ones? Love, lust, life, boob, cash, all great 4 letter words. Only one of them is so frightening that men will spend years pleading for it while never wanting to say it. I have no problem with love. It’s something I give so freely that many times I have found that when I mean it on a more personal level I am sometimes not believed. That’s probably happened to all of us at one point or another. You mean the word and the person you said it to doesn’t feel the same or simply doesn’t know how to react to it. A feeling about as pleasant as taking a golf shoe to the face. But when the person you love feels the same way about you, well that’s when you find out that love, though powerful and awesome, is not enough to make a relationship work. So how come we put so much stock in love?

When the last lady I was serious about told me that if I didn’t want to continue to be disappointed I should stop asking her to do things with me, I was crushed like a bug under a bull dozer. I love her, she loved me. That should have been enough, right? I should have heard the Elton John song swell to a crescendo as we ran into each others arms for a kiss that made the rest of the world disappear. Ever had a kiss like that? It’s magic that Harry Potter only wishes he could pull off. But love wasn’t enough. I thought it was. I still do. I think John Lennon was so right on the money, “All you need is love.” I think that when I look into a women’s eyes and see the reflection of my soul there is nothing that can tear us apart. Sadly, thinking something, no matter how great a thought, doesn’t make it true. There’s a million things that can tear two loving people asunder. And if both people don’t respect the rareness of two people who can see into each others hearts, then it’s doomed. But even in doom, I still love.

So, how do I define something that has filled my heart with both joy and pain? Love is the feeling of yourself in another. Love is the miracle that proves the soul exists. Love is not something to be taken lightly, but should be given generously. Love is wanting to come home just to look at that special someone in their comfy clothes. Love is permanent, yet disappears without tending. Love is laughter, tears, whispers, and screams. Love is elusive, yet all around. Love is blind, but looks through you. But if I had to choose one simple definition for something I think is so complicated I would say this: Love is all you need.

Thanks John. Well said.

Love you all,

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Life Riding

     Hey folks. BHC here. One of my beloved Nation members, in response to the question “What turns you on?”, replied “Life Riding Jeff”. Now she told me she had intended to put punctuation between each word; in not doing so she gave me a stellar idea. Most people think of life as a ride. A wild ride. A boring ride. A bumpy ride. Whatever. But it occurred to me that life is not, in fact, a ride. It’s the amusement park.

     When you enter it’s a world of wonder. Your eyes big trying to take it all in. There are brilliant colors, costumed characters, and a feeling that around each corner magic awaits. You don’t hold too tightly to your grasp on reality. It’s all imagination and anything can happen optimism.
Soon you enter the kiddie rides. It’s cute as a button time for you as your picture is taken with great enthusiasm by everyone around you. These followers will coo and pinch cheeks while filling you with fairy tales and cotton candy. It’s the greatest time of your life and its too soon taken from you as you are placed in a 12 year waiting line. Sure, you’ll learn some vital skills like dodgeball and cursing, but a lot of what you take in will later be used only to impress people with your quasi logic.

     There are some interesting rides that wait for you in that line. You may stop in at the Tunnel of Love. Know this, if you’re lucky enough you will visit this attraction a few more times during your visit. It’s a thrilling two person ride that involves hand holding, nicknames, and carpal tunnel from texting. But as that ride comes to an end you will find yourself standing directly in front of the House of Mirrors.

     Chances are you’re not going to like your reflection much, but sadly, this too will be a frequent stopping place. But getting back in line you start to get a glimpse at what lies ahead. The Roller Coaster. It will be there in the distance for a while. Next stop, the Bumper Cars.

     Single rider only cars careening into one another under an electrified ceiling. Its fun. There’s laughter and a feeling of being out of control. It’s a short, bumpy ride that leaves you with a few aches and pains, but hopefully no permanent damage. From here you take in the blender-like Mixer or Tilt-A-Whirl. There will be some dizziness and perhaps a lot of vomiting. Don’t worry. It’s completely normal. Again, the line awaits, but you are about to reach the end of kiddie-land. Because you all too soon find yourself standing in front of the Roller Coaster.

     There are precautions about this ride. Keep your hands and arms inside at all times. A rule you will soon flagrantly break by raising your hands at every peak. It starts with a steep climb. At the peak of which you are both empowered and frightened. And then you drop. Your stomach rises to your throat. You are scared. Your heart races. And you scream as loud as you can. The process then repeats in a never-ending cycle. Rise and fall. The ride lasts decades. It’s awesome. It’s scary. It’s the one ride you will wish you could go on again, but you can’t. You only get one ticket.

     When it’s over you find yourself standing in front of the Hall of Terror. Or worse, the exit. Either way, it will feel like the ride went by too fast.

     Me, I love being in the amusement park. It’s nice here. The lawns are manicured, the food is fattening and overpriced, and the people who work here pretend to like me. It’s a great place. So, yeah, I spend my life riding. And I hope that I get back to the Tunnel of Love as often as possible.

Love all.


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The Wingman Cometh

Hello world. BHC here. First of all, let me say, thanks for taking a moment to read my blog, means a lot. As we are getting better acquainted it’s come to my attention that my fan base, awesome as it is, seems a little female stacked. So you might assume that I have some skills far and away from the Dungeons and Dragons character sheet, not really true. I’m basically as clueless about the female species as any other dude. But I have figured out how each of you can use me as an awesome wingman. 

I hear the gasps. “BHC,” you’re asking “How is it possible that you could be a wingman to all of us, simultaneously, it bends the laws of the space-time continuum.” Relax, my amigo, time itself is not constant, so it’s not relevant to our conversation. I have devised a plan? method? scheme? call it what you will. Using my simple system you will find yourself chatting with the woman of your dreams in no time.

“BHC,” you continue “how is this possible? Please tell me more.” Here’s how it’s gonna go down. Say you find yourself at a local establishment of drink and ale. After you’ve had a couple of cocktails and are starting to feel the need for conversation you spy a spectacular lady at the other end of the bar. Now you are stuck in a moment of awkward stares that end in quick look aways. But eventually it’s time to break that iceberg. What are you gonna say?

Walk over to the glorious vision and say “Pardon me.” Don’t ever start with “Sorry to bother/interrupt you”. You’re not trying to bother her and you had better not have interrupted someone, that’s just rude. “Pardon me” allows for a follow-up and makes you sound like you have a touch of class. At this point introduce yourself to her. “My name is ….” and offer to shake her hand. Now this test came to me while watching A Bronx Tale. If you’re not familiar with the film there is a scene where Chazz tells the kid that if a girl doesn’t reach across the car to unlock your door you gotta dump her. She’s selfish. Good rule. Most cars have auto lock now, so the handshake test works. If she doesn’t shake your hand and offer her name you gotta move on. Don’t waste time with pleasantries, just lift your head up and walk away.

For the sake of continuing let’s say she responds with her name and shakes your hand. Here’s where I come in. Ask the lass “Have you heard of Bobblehead Clay, yet?” Don’t forget the “yet”. That’s the word that grabs her attention. If she hasn’t heard of me she feels unhip. No one wants to be unhip. If she has heard of me; bring up any off your favorite topics from my questions and you’re off and running. If she hasn’t you just explain that I am a Facebook phenomenon. A bobblehead that talks about all kinds of weird topics, flirts like a Hefner, and actually does charity work. After you’ve told her that it might dawn on you that at that moment you are actually talking to a wonderful woman who only moments ago was a total stranger.

Where you go from there and how you do is up to you, I can only provide the icebreaker. The only advice I can give you is just be you. No matter what or who you are. Just be that person and you will find what you’re looking for. Or not, the world is a messed up place.

Ladies, you can do it too, just flip the script, but still just be you.

Love all.


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I wanna be a Millionaire so F*%@ing bad.

Bruno Mars is not my regular cup of Sleepy Time, but this stupid, silly song sticks out for one reason and one reason only, I understand what he’s talking about.  I understand the desire to be rich as heck.  I would never be on the cover of Forbes Magazine with Oprah and the Queen, but I could be on the cover of Tiger Beat.  Maybe there could be a love triangle between Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears, and me, BHC.  That would be something for TMZ to talk about, wouldn’t it?  Imagine the face of Harvey Levin, standing in front of the dry erase board with a smug look on his face as Max, the long haired blonde kid holds up a photo of yours truly.  “I’ve got a bobblehead that’s such a pimp, Lindsay and Britney are fighting over him.”  Harvey’s head would explode.  And that would be good television. 

How on Earth can a bobblehead, even one with the charisma +6, get to be a millionaire?  Well that’s the question.  The answer? Beats the crap out of me.  Right now, I’m certainly happy to continue with the good vibes.  I am happy to flirt, to chat, to ask a question or two.  I am stoked that I’m getting more popular just by being the best bobblehead that I can be.  It’s a crazy world that we live in and there seemed to be a void in basic human kindness.  I’m trying to fill that emptiness with a good word, a quick compliment, a birthday wish. 

I wanna be a millionaire, that’s no lie.  But what I want more than that is to close the lid on my Patron box each night knowing that I made at least one person smile everyday.  That’s the gold in the stone.  The smiles, the love, the way that the BHC Nation is making people that would never know each other friends.  I’m loving you all, and that’s worth a million bucks. 

But if any of you happen to have a million bucks that you wanna toss at my feet, imagine the fun I would have with it.  So many motorboats to be done in so many lands.  It’s a great dream.  Until it comes true, keep on nodding, Nation.

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