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5:02 a.m. - 2002-09-25

YOUR AVERAGE WHINY AND BITCHY ENTRY

I love my new house.

Without sounding like one big gloating sumbitch ... this place RAWKS!!

Pictures will be coming soon ... once I get all the boxes broken down and in the garage, etc.

My old house? No garage. No carport. Just a driveway and an electric wire over the driveway for all the birds to perch on and patiently hold their bowel movements until I got home and parked underneath them. The next morning, my car would look like it had acne thanks to the birds.

Here? Garage. Big garage. Big, big garage. Big enough for several dozen boxes of toys, two breakfast tables, several dead bodies with two bags of cement per body and a mini van.

Old house? I get up at 5 a.m. to update this beeyotch and the kid automatically wakes up because our door was right across the hall from his and since the hallway was so small, Maggie's excited tail thumping would be bashing against Andrew's door, waking him up with me.

Here? Andrew's on the other side of the house. I can open the garage door with all its electrical mechanisms ... and he can't hear a thing. I can be whistling while I bury dead bodies in the back yard and he hears NOTHING. Sleeps like a baby, really stinkin' lousy pun intended.

Plus, I finally got my Home Theater balanced out last night. The front speakers were REALLY overpowering the back speakers to the point where you couldn't hear them.

I yanked out my 65 page manual and read it until I stumbled across how to control the volume for each speaker. I turned the front speakers down, the rear speakers up and I now have some pretty cool surround sound.

It'll be even cooler when I get my stinkin' subwoofer which came in on Monday. I got a call yesterday morning that it was in and they want to come install it ... so I called twice yesterday, leaving messages for the guy to call me back and set up a time.

He never did.

This kid is NOT good at returning calls. To my knowledge, this was the sixth and seventh time I've called the kid, left him either a message or a voice mail, and he hasn't returned either.

I think it's time for the return of CAPTAIN SMARTASS COMMENT MAN!!!!

Boy oh boy...wait until I break out a smartass comment on this guy! He's going to SHIT!!

I might say something like "Gee...you suck like a $500 whore when it comes to returning phone calls, dude."

Or "Gee...you're a real dildo for not calling me back, asswipe."

Or "I'm just not happy with your service. Why don't you take that subwoofer, cover it with a gallon of Tabasco Sauce and jam it in your peehole, ya fuckin' punkwad."

I haven't decided what to say. But you can bet, when I say it...it will STING!!

OWWWW!!!

Uncle Bob just STUNG yo' ass!!!

Uh-huh.

Right on!


Oh.

I added a Notify List at the bottom of this page.

While most Diarylanders that read this page have me listed on their Buddy Lists, there are apparently some evil bastards out there reading this from OUTSIDE Diaryland who have no way of knowing when I've updated.

Thus...the Notify List.

Now...you can still have me on your Buddy List AND be added to my Notify List.

The Notify List will have extra added bonuses. You get an email from me, telling you I've updated and ...and...I dunno. I guess I'll give you a brief synopsis of the entry or something. Maybe a nude photo of my dog. I'll think of something.

Sooooo...if you want ... join the Notify List at the bottom of this white space.

You'll be glad you did.


I threw my back out last night playing with Andrew.

I was throwing him up and down, upside down when my back popped.

I almost fell to the ground in pain and let him plummet head first to the floor. But I caught him, gently sat him down on the sofa and then crumpled to the floor in a big whiny mass of popped back flesh.

"Owwwwwwww," I cried out, hoping my wife would hear in the kitchen.

"What?" she yelled.

"I popped my back," I yelled back.

"You'll live," she yelled. "You shouldn't have been tossing the baby around like a rag doll."

Great.

Thanks for the compassion, Hitler.


Maggie did just fine in her crate yesterday.

You know...she barked herself half to death and is missing several teeth and patches of fur from throwing herself into the cage door.

But other than that...she's fine.


We've got ants.

We had ants in the apartment and couldn't figure out where they had come from.

Now we have them here. And once again, we can't find where they're coming from. There's no trail of ants...they're just scattering about. At least they're not as bad as they were in the apartment. There it was a sea of ants. Here...a trickle.

But ants just the same.

I need to stop and buy some ant bait trap motels on the way home tonight.

I'm positive we brought them here with us. That they're in one of these boxes and we just haven't found them yet.

Susie says they're not the same ants. These ants are bigger than the ants in the apartment.

Well duh. They're older now and have eaten more. Plus...who the hell measured the ants?? THEY ARE ANTS. They don't come in different sizes. They're not panty hose. THEY ARE ANTS.

Sheesh.

Sometimes I just wanna sit her down and test her common sense.


I checked the tracking on my DVD player this morning and it has made it to town which means today the UPS guy should show up at my office with a big grin on his face and my DVD player behind his back saying "Guess what I've got for youuuuuuu???"

And I'll jump up and down and squeal and clap my hands, going "A new DVD Player? A new DVD Player???"

And he'll bring it out from behind his back and go "You guessed it!!"

And I'll squeal some more and probably squirt a little excited pee in my pants and run around in uncontrollable circles.

Yep.

I bet that's how it all goes down.

So it's kinda nice that Chief Big Never Returns Calls didn't return my call yesterday.

Tonight he can come out and hook up my subwoofer AND my new DVD player.

Ha!!

That's what he gets for not returning my calls.

Stupid idiot never return phone calls guy.


Hurricane Isidore Fever is sweeping our community.

It's been raining here since yesterday afternoon.

My back yard has a small pond out there. I was assured that drainage would not be a problem in my yard that slopes down toward the house.

I guess what they meant was "Drainage won't be a problem as long as it doesn't rain".

I can't really bitch. It's not NEARLY as bad as my old house, where rain just stood in the whole yard and threaten getting in the house. Here, it's nowhere near the house.

Anyway...I'm glad it's raining. That means I won't have to go outside this morning and water shrubs for a half hour.

Awesome.


Alright...the kid's up...sign up for the Notify List and you may be the first to know when I get my DVD player!!

Aren't you excited???

Did you just squirt some pee like me??

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