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8:24 a.m. - 2002-07-23

WILL THE MADNESS EVER END?

I received the call at 4 p.m. yesterday.

"Your nephews are requesting your presence at dinner tonight," my wife said through the phone lines.

"Tell my nephews I'm dead," I replied.

"They've done something special today that they want to show you," she said. "Something that they're proud of. You need to come to dinner."

I stayed silent.

"Are you going to go?" my wife asked.

"Look," I said. "It's probably just a semen-soaked Kleenex. They probably had an in-house circle jerk and passed a Kleenex around as a jizz mop."

"UNCLE BOB!!!" she gasped (Yes...even my wife calls me "Uncle"). "That's disgusting!"

Uh-huh.

Welcome to my world.

So I go home first to change.

Vice President Dick Cheney was speaking less than a mile from my apartment yesterday to dedicate a cultural park. Next month he's coming back for a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the newest Blockbuster Video store in town. Apparently, he's our bitch when it comes to opening new businesses in town.

I took the risk and drove right past the park in which he was speaking. At work yesterday, we were discussing whether to travel that road on the way home because we figured it would be crawling with secret service agents and stuff.

I was the only one who felt that it wouldn't be that bad and I was going to go down that road. I was also going to honk my horn like a maniac when I passed the Vice President's podium, scream out "WHOOOOOO-HOOOOOOO!!" like a drunken redneck and see if I could get on CNN.

Did anybody see me???

So anyway, I changed and then made the long drive to the small city of Millbrook, Alabama, population 30 to have dinner with the in-laws and see just what this big huge surprise was that my nephews were dying to show me.

I get up there and the nephews literally pull me in to a bedroom.

"Great," I think. "I'm about to be gang-dry-humped by my nephews and I'm wearing shorts. My sparse-haired legs must be driving these kids apeshit."

Nope. That wasn't the surprise.

...They had finished Super Mario World on Super Nintendo.

Granted, this is something most normal kids completed ten years ago. But Super Mario World went out with Debbie Gibson and mullets. No self-respecting kid today would even admit to knowing what Super Mario World was, let alone beating the damned thing.

Okay ... that may be a bit too harsh. I'm sure there's some hardcore gamers out there who are seething with anger over my slam against people who play Super Nintendo. I apologize. And to show my sincerity, I'd like to buy you a new Super Nintendo game for your collection.

Oh yeah.

That's right.

They don't even MAKE games for that system any more. That was two game systems ago for Nintendo.

(Christ...you know I'm really stretching it when I've taken on the persona of a video game system snob)

After that, for the most part, the kids left me alone and I was able to be miserable with the adults in attendance who wanted to discuss politics.

My mother-in-law, who's as poor as a stray cat, is a staunch Republican which blows my mind still. Granted, I'm the LAST person who would want to debate politics, but I always thought that most poor people lean toward the Democratic way of thinking.

Nope. She sits there and rails against the Democrats as if she was living in a mansion and sitting atop a thick 401(k)plan.

She has no 401(k). Her retirement plan consists of borrowing thousands of dollars from her children with the promise of "someday" paying them back.

(Yes, she still owes us $1,100. Yes, that would look pretty alongside the other money we've saved as a down payment on the new house. Yes, she's been told we need it by August. No, it doesn't look like we'll be getting it.)

My 17 year-old nephew Matt took me aside last night to ask me a personal question.

"You know I'm going to be 18 in September, right?" he asked.

"I didn't know that," I said, since it's not my job to keep up with their birthdays. I know one of them was born January 1st, but I don't remember which one.

"Well, I'm turning 18 in September," he said. "And I was wondering if ....uhhh...you wanted to give me your Playboy collection for my birthday."

Ladies and gentlemen...that took balls for this kid to ask.

Balls o' steel, in my opinion.

He may have well just walked up to me and said "Uncle Bob...I'm really having a tough time with this whole masturbation thing and you sure could help me out if you'd hand over your collection of primo teenage wacking material."

I did the only thing I could do.

I laughed in his face.

"Talk to your no-good, Coke-swilling, fat-assed Uncle over there in the corner absent-mindedly rubbing his crotch while watching 'Wheel of Fortune'," I said. "When we moved into the apartment, he took all my Playboys as payment for helping us move."

My nephew looked over at my brother-in-law, sitting in his chair, watching Vanna turn the letters, with dried lasagna stains all over his t-shirt and juggling his testicles with his fingers.

"Uhhhh...no thanks," he sighed.

That's my brother-in-law alright. The poster child for deterring teenage masturbation.


I got my first batch of CDs yesterday to trade for my mix of "Diaryland Ass Shakers" which is climbing the imaginary charts in my mind with a bullet.

Got some cool discs from Jennifer and Patricia which had me jammin’ out like it was nobody’s business in my office yesterday.

I got a few discs made last night, so hopefully, the supply will be able to meet the demand for these discs. You know…unless the demand gets really crazy.

Hopefully I’ll get even more discs today, because nothing beats getting mix CDs in the mail.

Well…sex beats it.

Good sex anyway. Bad sex? I’d rather have a new mix CD over bad sex.

I’d rather have a new mix CD over baked chicken breasts.

For those of you thinking “Hmmmm…I’d really like a copy of Uncle Bob’s Ass Shaker CD … I wonder if he’d rather have baked chicken breasts or a copy of my favorite mix CD?”

….Stick with the mix CD, buckaroo.


Finally….I have a question I feel compelled to ask.

Does Subway go out of their way to hire really obnoxious bastards as spokesmen for the company in their commercials.

Jarrod was alright. He was a newly-thin guy who got that way by hogging out on Subway sandwiches. Give Jarrod his props. He was no Fabio … but he was a decent spokesman.

But this other guy they’ve got?? The cocky, smarmy asshole who pulls up into OTHER restaurant’s drive thrus, orders some spicy chicken gut sandwich and then lambasts the poor asshole inside for not carrying Subway sandwiches by saying “It’s not even on your radar screen!”???

Man…somebody shoot that guy in the nuts with an air rifle, please.

He’s been a cocky jerkwad ever since they started putting him in the commercials. Is that what a company really wants representing them in nationwide advertisements? Some cocky bullying bastard who gets his kicks out of giving everyone a hard time and then wolfing down a Subway sandwich while he feels superior to those around him??

And if so….how come they didn’t call me first?

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