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6:40 a.m. - 2005-05-03

I WANTS TO GET FUNKED UP


I just gave my eyes a good ol' massage.

There's nothing quite like an extended eye rub in the morning where you just close your eyes, bury your fingers against your eyelids and just rub rub rub 'em until you see stars.

Gawd.

It's better than sex on drugs, I'm tellin' ya.



Susie's last day at work was pretty uneventful.

Andrew and I arrived there at 5 p.m. to take her out to dinner.

Naturally ... she's doing all this crap ... "I've got to fax this to this guy", "I have to clean up this area", "I have to file this report" ...

It's her last few minutes at a job she hated ... and yet she's still giving it 100%.

She's the most dedicated employee I've ever known.

Most people turn in a two-week notice and then spend those two weeks downloading midget porn on the 'net while figuring out ways to steal staplers and copy paper without anyone noticing.

Not my wife.

She busts the proverbial balls until she walks out that door for the last time.



Came home and my package from Amazon was here.

I ordered a book and a DVD of a 1976 concert from George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic.

So while Andrew bitched that he wanted to watch some Baby Einstein video, Daddy overruled him and we got down with the Mothership ... we wanted the bomb ... we wanted the P-Funk ... we were ready to tear the roof off the sucker ... shit, goddamn, we got off our asses and jammed.

Andrew decided that he wanted to dance to the music doing his wildly popular chicken dance.

He flapped his wings and did his knee bends and pecked his head in the air while I just clapped along and occasionally did the Fred Sanford Shuffle because I'm old and somewhat feeble.

And while we danced to the P-Funk that was filling our home, I had a vision that someday my son would be a drugged out musician, giving an interview to Blender Magazine and saying "I remember as a kid, my old man would play Parliament DVDs and that's when I learned that music SPOKE to me, goddammit. That's what shaped me as the rock and roll whore that I am today."

I'd be so proud if my son said that to an interviewer someday.

And then puked on said interviewer in order to prove he was a rock and roll God.

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