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7:14 a.m. - 2004-10-25

MY SON AND HIS WHORE

Let's seeeeee ...

I don't think I got the job with God and his organization.

Of course while I've always been a pessimist, I've changed teams and am now on the optimistic side because a story in yesterday's paper talked about how God and his minions have been busy preparing for the upcoming elections next week.

So I'm all "Well, maybe he was too busy to hire somebody last week and even though they said they'd let me know something by Friday, maybe they were just too busy and I'll hear something today! Because the newspaper said they were really really busy!!"

I know.

I'm an idiot.

But I am getting SO TIRED of going on job interviews and/or filling out applications.

No. I have NOT been convicted of a felony in the last five years.

Assholes.



My little boy is growing up.

He turns four years old next week and he's already got a girlfriend.

Her name is Devin.

We think.

Anyway, he seems to be slowly breaking out of his social retardness and is starting to talk to other kids rather than posing as the creepy freak in the corner who eats his boogers and babbles about planets and animals all day.

So after church yesterday, he's talking non-stop about Devin.

And then he admits ... he kissed Devin.

Now, Andrew has two different kisses in his repertoire.

One is an innocent peck on the cheek.

The other is a full blown tongue licking which is how "doggies kiss" as he is so apt to remind his victims milliseconds before lapping up their faces.

Naturally, I'm in horror because I can picture my boy slurping on hot three year-olds in church and the reprimands that must come from such an act.

He swears he didn't give her a doggie kiss.

But the boy's been known to lie before.

So anyway, last night the church had its Fall Festival for kids where kids get to go to church at night and play games like "Bean Satan" where you throw bean bags at a picture of Satan and try to knock him off his perch. Shit like that.

Susie wanted him to wear this Elmo costume she had bought.

Naturally, I wanted to dress him up like he was one of the Children of the Corn.

Well, guess who won THAT battle?

I'm sorry ... but I still think if the kid had shown up at church as one of the Children of the Corn ... such an act would demand a shitload of respect in the future.

Anywhooo ... we're at the fall festival and Andrew's having a blast, and who shows up but ... Devin.

She was dressed up as a cat in a skintight black leotard and whiskers drawn on her face with little pointed black ears.

Personally, I thought she looked like a little whore.

Andrew must have thought the same thing because he ran over to her, hugged her and then kissed her on the cheek.

Thank God it wasn't a doggy kiss. I had no idea how I was going to explain why my son felt it necessary to orally violate a little girl in church to the little girl's father.

I mean, I guess I coulda said "That's what happens when you dress your daughter up like a child prostitute for Halloween."

Which would have probably prompted the first fist fight the church had ever seen inside its doors.

But I really had no interest in going down in history that way.

So Andrew grabbed Devin's hand and they scurried off to play games together.

No wonder the kid likes church so much.

The little horndog.



Speaking of horndogs, we were watching football the other night on TV and a blast from my past came on the screen.

This woman's name is Alex and she's a sports reporter on ESPN.

About ten years or so ago, she was a local TV reporter here in our city.

Every guy in town knew who she was because every guy in town had a secret crush on her. Hell ... it wasn't even all that secret. Every guy in town woulda knocked out his own teeth with a hammer in order to be in her presence. Take a look at the guy in the photo with her and tell me he's not poppin' a boner just being next to her.

At the time, I was working at the newspaper and doing a weekly series called "Meet the Media" where I would interview local media types and find out their backstory and then write a story to let our readers know that these media folk ... they be just like us! Only they be talkin' fancier!

I put off interviewing Alex for a long time because of nerves. I didn't know how I would react if I were in a room alone with the woman.

I'd probably jump up and doggy kiss her lips off.

Finally, I called her at the news station and we arranged for her to swing by the office and be interviewed.

I didn't sleep for days leading up to the interview. For I, a lowly journalist, was going to be eye to eye with the most gorgeous TV reporter in the city.

She showed up on time.

...With her boyfriend who is now her husband and a former college basketball star.

He was dashing and handsome and 7 feet tall.

I was dumpy and reeked of stale Aqua Velva, trying desperately to impress his woman.

The interview was short as Alex was bewildered as to why I'd want to be interviewing her.

Well duh, Sweetie.

Then came the good part ... I needed to take a few photos of her for the story.

So I made her pose.

And as much as I wanted to say "Alright, babe ... take off the blouse" I was a gentleman.

Maybe because she dragged Hulk Hogan with her to the meeting.

But I got the nerve up and asked her boyfriend to take a photo of me with his woman.

He obliged.

And somewhere in this house, buried in a safety deposit box is my photo with Alex.

While I don't have the time and patience to try and find it, I'll just give you an artist rendition of the photo here.

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