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4:56 a.m. - 2002-06-20

HONEY, THERE'S A MARCHING BAND OUTSIDE OUR HOUSE

So I go out to the new neighborhood to check out the progress on the house.

We've got roofage. Too cool. Also, they're putting up the styrofoam in the walls.

See...you guys were wondering how homes in Alabama can be so cheap...it's because we have styrofoam walls, dude. If someone wants to break into our home, they just run really fast into a wall and BOOM! They're in.

Anyway...found out a very interesting tidbit yesterday...we have apparently picked a floor plan that's going to be included in this year's Parade of Homes.

This is a big deal to people who watch a lot of HGTV and stuff because these homes are like the best of the best...new homes that people are dying to have.

Here's a link to our floor plan and listing in the Parade.

Naturally, I called Susie and squealed like a woman when I found this out. Never in our wildest dreams did we think that we would be living in a home that would be featured in the Parade of Homes. Up until now, we've always been in the Parade of Crack Houses.

Years from now, we can be throwing a party and I can put my martini down, take the lampshade off my head and tell some young hottie "You know...this home was on the Parade of Homes in 2002."

And the young hottie will quickly survey the surroundings and say "Is your wife anywhere nearby?? Because I REALLY wanna take you into a secluded closet and make a man out of you!"

And I can say "Why no, young hottie...she's mysteriously absent right now."

And we can go find a closet in our former Parade of Home contestant and make whoopie in there.

You know...as long as my wife's not in there with some young stud after feeding him the same "Former Parade of Homes Contestant" line.


Speaking of the wife and sex...last night one thing led to another and the rare occasion occurred when I began casually stuffing my peepee in her fleshy love box while she was still awake and the TV was on.

The guy on TV started talking about the girl in Utah who was recently abducted and then a discussion about abducted children began.

Lemme tell ya...there ain't nothin' like a discussion about abducted children that can kill a moment quicker.

"Can you please turn the TV off," she asked.

"I can't find the remote," I answered after patting the bed down.

By the time I found the remote on the floor at the foot of the bed, neither one of us were really in the mood anymore.

That's what you kids have to look forward to when you're older. The days when it doesn't take much to make you lose interest in sex.


For those of you who didn't do it yesterday, I REALLY need you to do me a favor today.

I need you to visit Mattie Gee's site for his band The Spicolis.

Once you get there, I need you to click on the Jagermeister link at the top of that page...the one that says "Win, Win, Win" and you actually HAVE TO REGISTER to win tickets to go to the Ozzfest in order for Mattie Gee to get credit. And if you don't want to go to the show, click on the "Atlanta" date and if you win, you can send me the tickets and I'll go and take pictures of me and Ozzy backstage flashing the devil sign and all.

Uncle Bob and Ozzy. I mean...THAT'S a combination for world domination in my book.

Anyway, if you click those TWO links...the one to Mattie Gee's site and then the one to the Jagermeister site and register for tickets then Mattie Gee helps me move.

I need this because Mattie Gee has big burly,manly arms that are good for carrying heavy stuff.

...As well as holding me late at night and smoothing my fine, silky hair.

Wait...did I just say that?!?

Anyway...PLEEEEEEASE do that. Apparently only a few of you did it yesterday and they need more, more, more to do it today.

And register to win the Ozzy tickets while you're at it. I mean...who WOULDN'T want to go see Ozzy this summer? He's like...the biggest star in the world!

You know...if you don't count me.


So last night was the big board meeting at church where Rev. Brian announced his resignation.

It was kinda a shock to all those in attendance. He gave an eloquent speech about how they had to move to afford his wife the same opportunities for employment that he has...et cetera.

It was a heartfelt speech and at the end he asked if anyone had any questions.

This senile old woman ... she's in her 90s and about as feeble as a broken puppet ... she speaks up.

"We didn't hire your wife, we hired YOU," she said. "We don't CARE if your wife has a job or not."

Brian was very gracious and said that while most pastors rank God first, the church second and their families third, he's different. It's God first, family second and church third. Since his wife isn't fulfilled, they have to move.

Any other questions??

Feeble Granny raises her hand again. It was kinda comical because Brian was trying to pretend like he didn't see her wrinkly bony hand up in the air. Finally, since everyone was pretty much in shock and couldn't think of any questions, he called on Granny again.

"You signed a contract," she said. "You have to stay here for three more years."

Once again, Brian was very gracious and pointed out that he did sign a contract, but it is up on August 13th of this year. At that point, he will stay one more month and then be gone for good and never give this old bat a single moment's thought ever again.

After the meeting, Brian and I went out in the parking lot to talk.

"Can you believe her?" he said. "Ever since I started here, she's hated me and wanted me gone. Now that I'm leaving, she wants me to stay."

"You can't win with her," I said.

"Man," he said. "She was PISSED!!"

Y'see...that's why I like the guy. He's my pastor...he gives his resignation...then he uses the word "pissed" in the parking lot right afterwards.

I told him that we'd all miss him and he was the reason I started coming to church. I told him Susie had been trying to get me to come to church for years but it wasn't until I heard him deliver a sermon that I decided that I wanted to come every week and that it would be tough for me to adapt to someone else.

Then he hugged me.

Long and hard. And not just an arm around the shoulder "C'mere you!" hug. A full blown, arms around my body hug.

I was almost like "Dude!! Not here!!!"

But he wouldn't let go.

So I limply hugged him back, just in case anyone was watching, I could say "Yeah...but did you see how limply I hugged him back? That means I wasn't into it."

We decided that our families were going to spend a lot of time together this summer. Baseball games, dinners, pool parties, etc.

It'll be fun.


The brother-in-law was here late last night again.

Once I got home from the meeting, we all painted as much as we could of the house before it got dark.

Then, once it got dark, he wanted some dinner.

We had some leftover barbecue that was about three weeks old that Susie had been meaning to throw out.

He ate it.

I was all like "Ewwwwwwww!!"

He wolfed it down and then wanted something else.

So he ate a can of ravioli and had some pretzels. Then he started to get ready to leave.

There's something strange about Susie's family. Most people can "start" to leave and then be gone from a home five minutes later, tops.

Not Susie's family.

I don't understand it. I've watched them and studied them. But it takes her family an average of about 30 minutes to get up and leave a home.

We're standing there, worn out, hands on our hips and leaning toward the front door.

He gathers his stuff. Then decides he needs to check the welding job he did on the outside spigot.

But it's dark out and he can't see so he needs a flashlight, so he gets the flashlight and checks it.

He wants to put more goop on it.

So he does that.

Then he grabs a Diet Dr. Pepper for the road.

Then he checks his phone for any messages. Yeah. Like he has friends or something.

Then he tucks his little earpiece in his ear. I think it's for his phone, but I don't know for sure, because there's no microphone thing for him to speak into. I'm not sure what the earpiece is for. I'm sure he wants me to ask, but I refuse to ask because it will take him ten minutes to explain the earpiece and why it's so great, blah blah blah.

Then he has to play with Andrew. Even Andrew's tired at this point and just wants his Uncle to leave.

Then he has to find out if we need him here again the following night and what we need him to do.

Then he has to watch whatever's on TV and get semi-engrossed in it and then make his commentary on it.

Last night it was "South Park" and he had to laugh at every single thing that was said. And laugh heartily and talk about how the cartoon is made, blah blah blah.

Seriously.

I want to kill him when he does this.

He then gives me a new mouse pad from his job and expects me to fall all over myself thanking him for this new mouse pad.

It's a freakin' mouse pad ... the only thing more disposable than a Kleenex. My desk drawer is stuffed full of mouse pads.

He finally left about 9:25 after preparing to leave at 9.

He's coming back tonight, taking a break from the monotony on Friday and then will be here all day (yippeeeee!!!) on Saturday and Sunday ("if we need him"...yeah...fat chance on that one, loser).

Susie's friend from Nashville, Julie is coming down Friday to spend the weekend with us and help us pack.

That should be cool. I like Julie. She's laid back and kinda hip in a geeky way. She's allergic to wheat so she's difficult to cook for, so I usually just stockpile the house with Triscuits when she comes over and then pretend like I forgot Triscuits were basically wheat squares and eat 'em all myself because I'm a slave to the crunchy little bastards.

It's kinda a running joke with her. I get a kick out of it and she probably holds me in the same regard as I hold my brother in law.

Anywayyyy...


Susie's about ready to kill the Nosy Assed Neighbor (NAN).

Last night while I was at church, NAN came over while Susie was painting and criticized her painting.

"You're going to need a second coat on that," she said.

"I know, NAN," Susie replied.

"Probaby a third too."

"Possibly," Susie said while continuing to paint.

NAN looked up at the darkening sky.

"If it starts to rain, it's going to wash all that paint away," she said.

"Then let's pray it doesn't rain," Susie countered.

"It's GONNA rain," assured Miss Sunshine.

NAN then told Susie basically what she told me the other night...that she's shocked anyone would want to buy our house.

I had told Susie that she said that to me on Saturday night, but I don't think Susie really believed that she said those exact words.

Then she repeated them to Susie.

Susie stopped painting and asked her what she meant.

NAN stuttered out something about how our house just isn't all that attractive to her.

Granted, her house looks nicer than ours on the outside. But I think we've got her beat hands down on the inside.

And we are TRYING to get the outside looking nice. I don't know why since the girl has already said she wanted it and the contracts have been drawn up.

Oh.

Because the home inspection is today.

That's right.

Which means I've got work to do.

That's right.

Go click on Mattie Gee's links and have a great day.

I'll see ya tomorrow.

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