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5:26 a.m. - 2001-05-04

I'D LIKE TO THANK THE ACADEMY FOR FORGETTING I EVER EXISTED, YOU RAT BASTARDS

(Uncle Bob walks in, plops down in a chair and lifts his thumb and index finger to his forehead in an "L" shape)

I'm a loser baby.

So seriously...why don't you kill me??

We attended the Rat Victory Party last night. The person I thought would win, the Major from the Police Department won. The "Queen" was a woman who I've known for a number of years who's a bit strange. She dresses really colorful and borderline tacky, with long dangling earrings and big glasses and these huge Japanese mumus that she wears everywhere.

Okay...she doesn't wear huge Japanese mumus. But she does wear some outrageous clothing.

She's also the lady that had $10,000 donated to her cause on the last day of the competition, which helped push her into the winners seat.

She told me it was $10,650. Plus she got a $2,000 anonymous check from a man who just lost his wife to cancer.

Okay ... so she had $12,650 just GIVEN to her, right?

She won by raising $17,000.

Which ... hey, I'm no mathematician ... but this tells me she REALLY only worked her ass off to raise $4,350.

Correct??

Whereas, I made $9,500 AFTER paying off my expenses.

So, technically, I worked harder and raised more money than she did. She just had the good fortune to be a member of a club of crazy old rich ladies who dress like Bulgarian teens wired on raw sugar cane who had nothing better to do with $10,000 than to help out their deadbeat friend so that she could feel reeeeeeeal important at a victory party that everyone left as soon as the winners were announced.

Yep.

I'm feeling reeeeal good about myself right about now. It's nice to know you can bust your ass so hard that you contract bronchitis and STILL can't win because some people are stupid rich.


I was talking to one of the local TV weathermen last night who was in the competition as well.

He asked how much I made and like a fool, I told him. Then he said "Well, every night on TV, after my weather report, I'd tell people to send me money for the contest. And every day I expected about five checks a day ... and nobody sent anything."

Just as I was about to ask him how much he made, some goddamned minglers came up, wanting to mingle with us and shoot the shit.

I was all like..."I WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH THIS GUY MADE!!!"

And they were all like ... "Y'all did soooo good."

Hey. Fuck off. I want DIRT here, lady. Go get some more wine.

This weatherman used to be on the Weather Channel too, so like...at one time he was known nationwide and I'm sure you all saw him.

I'd mention his name here, but here's a funny thing ... I've noticed in my Google searches that lately, there've been some hits to my site from people looking up specific LOCAL names.

Which means some radio people and business people have seen their names on my site.

Which...you know...will freak a guy's ass out when it happens.

Soooo...I'm trying to be less descriptive of things that I think people may merit a Google search over.

Because...well...people like Kelvin have now seen this site. Don't know if he's still reading it or not...but hey Kelvin! How's it going??

Anyway...


I wanted to get my campaign manager something nice for working so hard to help me win this contest yet come in g-damned third place anyway because I don't belong to a ritzy big-money club in town.

I was at a loss for what to get her. And now...looking back...I'm not sure I got her the right thing.

I bought her three body wraps. This is where your entire body is wrapped in warm bandages and you do aerobics for about 30 minutes and then lose like 10-14 inches all around your body.

I know she's done it in the past and enjoyed it. She recently did it because her daughter's getting married and she wanted to lose some arm flab for the wedding.

And in a way, it's a gift that says "You're fat. Take care of it. Don't worry...it's on me."

But I know she enjoyed doing it and she did manage to lose like 12 inches all around her body and was very impressed by it.

And I made sure that if she DOESN'T want the body wrap, that she can get some other service like a facial or massage or something.

I think that's good, don't you?

I mean...we're talking $225 here.

It's the thought that counts, right?

Or at least the value.

Right??


I went to ask my pastor a question yesterday since I was in the church neighborhood.

I ended up sitting there for over an hour, shooting the shit with the guy.

We both talked about our baby boys, since they're only a few months apart. He told me one story where his son's diarrhea was so bad that they had to CUT his clothes off with scissors. Because if they lifted the shirt up over his head, he woulda been covered in shit.

God that was funny. He's got a way of telling stories that just cracks me up because he doesn't use curse words and it's like watching a really, REALLY white version of Bill Cosby right in front of you.

I had invited he and his wife to the Victory Party last night and was really just making sure they were still coming.

He swallowed hard and said "no". A friend of his had just had a baby and he was going over there for a night of "beer and cigars".

So, while my pastor was out drinking and smoking last night, I was at a charity event.

What the hell is wrong with THIS picture???


Speaking of pictures...I musta had my picture taken about 50 times last night.

It's kinda funny, because I've been put in these situations before. A cameraman walks up to whatever group you're talking to and starts snapping away. Meanwhile, you're supposed to just relax and feel natural. Like you're having a conversation WITHOUT flash bulbs popping just inches from your face.

So this guy from the local paper is snapping these pics and then once we hit a lull in the conversation, he asks our names.

I told him mine and that I work for his competition and that I would LOVE to see my pic in his paper.

He said it'll probably happen since it was a good pic. He didn't seem to care that I was his competition.

However ... my campaign manager said she didn't want her picture in the paper and asked him to PLEASE not turn it in.

I then had to divulge my goal for this entire event. And that was to get my picture and my newspaper's name in the competition's newspaper. That was my goal from day one...force the competition to acknowledge me.

So I told the photographer to use it.

My campaign manager was slightly pissed.

... And this was before I gave her the free "Lose Weight, Tubby" coupons.


The organizer of last night's event DID ask me if I'd ever be interested in running again.

I told her to ask me again in a month. Then I said that I would be honored to give it another try and that I had learned a lot about how this worked and knew I would do a lot of things different next time.

Soooo...I could be a Rat once again someday.

We'll see...


That's about it. Andy goes in for his six month check-up today. Only one shot, but in his eyes, that's one shot too many.

I say he weighs 18.7 pounds. Susie's leaning towards 19.4.

We'll find out later.

Yes...this is the most fun I now have. Guessing my kid's weight to the ounce.

Booooo-yahh!!


OH YEAH!!!

Survivor is over!!!

:(

I think that's the first time I've ever used one of those goofy little faces in this diary.

I can't believe Tina won. I just don't think she should have. It shoulda been Colby. He PLAYED the game better because he KEPT WINNING the competitions.

She didn't win a single competition except talking to her family at home on the internet and her family won that for her.

Anyway...can't cry over spilled milk.

And that pooooor Debb who started crying during her little speech on the reunion show. Man...I felt sorry for her. Nobody took the time to know her. And then America tore her a new asshole when they found out she was humping her stepson.

Man. We're sorry, Debb. We, as Americans, shouldn't have passed judgement on you so quickly, just because you're slobbing all over your son's knob.

Nope.

Should never have passed judgement. I'm sure you're a very nice person who just happens to like her stepson to make her squeal like a pig in bed.

Gawsh.

You're a swell gal, Debb.

Take care.

You fucking pervert, you.

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