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5:56 a.m. - 2002-01-08

THE KING IS STILL GONE

Hi! Welcome to my daddy's diary! Not too many daddies have diaries, so that makes my daddy special! So special that it probably will result in years and years of therapy for myself someday!

So...it's Elvis Presley's birthday today. Had he not gotten so g-damned fat that he died of a heart attack on the crapper, the guy woulda been 67 years old today. Retired. Bald. And even fatter.

I can't say I was ever a big fan of the E-man. My parents forced me to go to Graceland when I was a little kid and Elvis was still alive. We had to stand outside the gates back then which were covered in graffiti. I remember feeling really odd, being about 11 years old or so and surrounded by the largest congregation of poor white trash that I had ever been around in my life.

I never owned any of his records, but Vicki Brown did. Vicki was the daughter of some friends of my parents. Vicki LIVED for Elvis and called him "Elvis the Pelvis" which I thought was a dirty word. I always got "pelvis" and "penis" mixed up as a kid. I couldn't believe this little 11 year old girl was allowed to say "pelvis" in her house. Her dad would always correct her and say it was "Enis the Penis" and the adults would laugh. Looking back now, I have a feeling things got a tad uncomfortable around the Brown household at times.

"I'm getting ready for my bath! I'm also learning how to walk quickly, so that finds me slamming every door I can find! In just a second, I'm going to slam this door in your face and then reopen it! Won't that be fun?"

I remember where I was when I heard Elvis died. I was in a grass hut on an island in Greece with my buddy Matt "The Human Fart Machine" Bourg. We were on some kind of youth trip with a bunch of other teenagers and somebody came to the door of our hut to tell us Elvis had died. We told the guy to get out of our hut immediately, acting like the shock of the fat bastard dying was overwhelming us. When in reality, we were talking about which of the girls on the trip we would nail if girls back then had loose morals like they do today.

Oh...don't give me any crap about that. You kids today have sex because you're "bored". We lived in an age where there was no AIDS and we STILL weren't humping like epileptic bunnies. Gimme a break. We had MORALS, people.

(Not saying ALL of you ladies are sluts. But if you're under the age of 20 and have had sex with more than ... oh... let's say one guy ... you'll get your slut pin in the mail very soon)

Today, my only beef with Elvis is all these damned impersonators that his death brought on. Every town has at least a few losers who could never hold down a decent job and decided to buy a can of shoe polish, rub it in their hair, grease up some fake sideburns on their cheeks and call themselves "Elvis Mach II" or "Son of Elvis" or "Elvis Jr." or "That Creepy Guy That Works In The Grocery Store Who Thinks He's Elvis When He Sounds More Like Dolly Parton".

Our city has its share of Elvis impersonators and tonight's their big night. It's like Halloween for idiots out there tonight. Every greasy haired truck driver dresses up like Elvis and books himself in every karaoke bar in town to thrill us with his rendition of "In the Ghetto". I heard one of them on the radio yesterday, trying DESPERATELY to talk like Elvis. A lot of "uhhhhs" when the guy clearly knew what he was going to talk about. At the end, he even threw in the requisite "Thankyewverymuch". I wanted to punch my car radio in anger.

So Elvis fans, rejoice. Today's your big day. Live it up, shed a few tears over the poor fat dead bastard.

Then tomorrow, get back to work. There's shitloads of milk cartons that need to get on the shelves for the rest of us Americans who still remember how to let people die with their dignity intact.

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