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5:14 a.m. - 2003-01-13

I'M DYING

I have not stepped foot outside this house since I got home from work on Friday afternoon.

I did take the garbage out late yesterday afternoon. But that's only one step outside the garage door, so it hardly counts. It's not like I took the garbage to Walmart or anything.

I'm sick.

I'm not quite sure if I'm really sick or if I'm Guy Sick.

Really sick is when...well...you're really sick. Do I have to draw you a blueprint for that?

Guy Sick is when you're just a little sick, but since you're a guy, being a little sick gives you carte blanche to act like you're dying because guys are babies when they're sick.

I can't breathe. So right there...that should qualify as being "Really sick".

But I can't breathe because my nose is full of snot. So that's "Guy sick".

But my sinuses are completely swollen from blowing my nose every thirty seconds all weekend. So that should be "Really sick".

But it's not like I'm going to die from having a red and raw nose. So that's "Guy sick".

Youknowwhati'msayin'?

Anyway, I've got a cold, I'm run down, my joints ache, my sinuses are swollen, my short term memory is for shit, I can't sleep at night because I'm drooling all over the pillows due to the fact that I can't breathe through my nose which makes my throat dry and sore.

And I sound like a cross between Leonard Cohen and Tom Waits circa his "Heartattack and Vine" period.

I realize that I just alienated about 90% of you people with that reference. My voice is deep and raspy from all the coughing. Is that better?


For those of you who missed it ... my recap for "The Surreal Life" is drawing rave reviews from Washington to Florida and from California to Vermont.

(For some unknown reason, the people in Maine hate it. Go figure)

Anyway, if you want to see what all the fuss is about, click here.

And it doesn't really matter if you saw the show or not because the chances are good that you know the characters. That's the cool part of this show ... everyone over the age of 10 remembers Webster and Hammer and Corey Feldman and 90210 and Survivor. So it's one of the few shows that don't require actual watching to enjoy my recaps.

And that's what it's all about, isn't it? Less TV ... more Uncle Bob?

Of course it is.


Sorry I'm not all laugh riot funny this morning.

But I'm guy sick.

Surely you understand by now.

Of course you do.


I still can't believe that the guy on Joe Millionaire is really a millionaire and they're going to have a big switcheroo at the end of the show.

I can't remember where I read it, but apparently the guy can read too.

Stuff like that just blows my teeny little mind sometimes.


It's good to have my wife home after being gone all last week.

And by that I mean ... I'm glad there's someone here to pick my underwear up off the floor now.


Have we discussed the fact that if you like Uncle Bob, you'll LOVE Robin Smith yet?

No?

Well...there's really nothing to discuss other than the fact that it is the funniest, most sarcastic and well-written diary in Diaryland.

I know that's saying a lot.

And it's sure to piss a few of you sarcastically funny good writers off.

But if I were the pretentious type who handed out awards for something as ignorant as online diaries, I'd throw them all her way.

That's my "Diary of the Day". A new Uncle Bob feature for the new year.

Now go read it. From beginning to end.

Thank me later.


Even though I'm horribly guy sick, I still have to go to work today because I save all my sick days for when Andrew's sick.

Plus I have to take him to daycare since the Mrs. worked 64 hours last week and is taking some time off this week so she's going to lay in bed all day today. Even though she's not the least bit sick.

She would be sick though.

Had she had sex with me like I wanted on Saturday afternoon.

I would have covered her in cold germs if she had just taken the nakedness to the bedroom.

Alas ... she's smarter than she seems.

She kept her distance from me all weekend.

Damned woman.

She's on to me and my evil ways.


Alright...it's obvious that this entry is going nowhere fast so I'm going to put it and you out of your respective miseries.

My apologies for keeping you around here all this time under the false impression that eventually there would be some sort of payoff by the end.

There isn't.

This was one lame entry that I should delete tomorrow.

I'm ashamed and mortified.

And guy sick.

That's my excuse anyway.

But when you stay home all weekend and just watch stuff on TV that you've already seen but taped for the wife to watch since she was gone all last week working in Florida and apparently having sex with her boss while she wasn't working ... you end up rather dull on Monday morning.

But hey....tonight???

PERVY!!!

Pervy and I'm all guy sick!!

That's comedy GOLD, my friend!

See ya tomorrow.

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