UNCLE BOB'S BUTT IS ALL JUICY AND TENDER

First off, thanks to all those who are concerned about my balls.

BALL UPDATE! BALL UPDATE!

...My balls seem to be just fine now. No searing pain, no nauseous burning sensations.

Now then...

Edweird, Wendigo and I just got back from delivering our butts all over town.

My butt was bigger than their butts. I didn't wanna say anything, but secretly ... I wanted the bigger butt.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!

Oh...I can't keep this secret anymore...I'm talking about BOSTON BUTT ROASTS...not our asses!!!

TEE HEE TEE HEE TEE HEE!!

Boy ... I really had you going there, huh???

*sigh*...

(Yes...I'm well aware that I'm a dork)

If you haven't already read Wendigo's site, my church was selling smoked boston butts to help raise funds for the church today. They do this every year on Labor Day weekend, sort of a tradition.

So I was supposed to sell ten butts this month...I sold two...one to Edweird and one to Wendigo.

So for lunch, the three of us went to my church to pick up our butts.

ROASTS!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...NOT OUR ASSES!!!!

Gawsh...I never tire of that joke!

Actually, I do. But lemme tell ya something...the old guys in charge of smoking the butts for the last 24 hours at church...THEY NEVER tire of that joke.

I go in to pick up the three roasts. I am then bombarded with more horrible puns using the word "butt" in them in a five minute period than I've had throughout my life.

"Uncle Bob wants to pick his butt!!"

"Uncle Bob has a big butt to pick!"

"Uncle Bob, would you like to see my butt?"

Like I told Edweird and Wendigo...being good Christian men who've never told a dirty joke in their lives, this is probably the highlight of their year...getting to do so many "butt" puns in a four hour period.

They'd probably rather do ribs...but what funny puns can you get out of "ribs"?

And they can't go to hell for saying "butt" over and over again because they're talking about food...not somebody's anus.

Whoooohoooooo!! Party down, grandpa! Say "Butt" for me one more time so I can go!

"Butt."

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You kill me Gramps! See ya Sunday morning!

"Go eat your butt, Uncle Bob"

BAWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!! Stop with the bad puns already!!!

...Anyway...

So I drove to each of our homes, where we dropped our butts off and put our butts in the fridge.

Then we stopped by McDonalds to pick up some lunch and find out what's the 10-4 on this $10 million giveaway they're having this weekend to "do right" by their customers.

You know...since for the last several years, every damned one of their contests were rigged so that we all patronized McDonald's like alcoholics in a liquor store trying desperately to win those $10 million prizes that were already given away to friends of the security firm in charge of making the games fair.

So they've got these commercials saying "Just come to the right McDonalds at the right time and you can be a winner".

Okay.

We go to McDonalds. I ask the girl if I won $10 million.

She says no.

WTF??

How does she KNOW I didn't win?

BECAUSE IT'S ANOTHER DAMNED CONTEST THAT'S BEING RIGGED! THAT'S HOW!!

There ain't nodamnedbody standing around my McDonald's waiting to hand me $10 million. I ain't no fool, fool.

Man, this really just gripes my goat.

I'm thinking about firing off a letter to Ronald McDonald and asking him how that trip to the Bahamas went.

Damned swindlers.

I WANT MY $10 MILLION!!!

So THEN, we're driving back to the office and I get behind the Grandma from Hell.

I know this because she had a bumper sticker that said "I'm Granny. I'm new here...I just moved from HELL!!!"

We're tooling down the bypass where the speed limit is 55 mph.

This is the most heavily trafficked road in the city.

...Granny's doing 20 mph.

TWENTY EM PEE AYCH!!

I kept waiting for the old biddy to kick it up a notch with forty cloves of garlic BUT IT NEVER HAPPENED.

Cars were FLYING past us at alarming rates of speed. I would have passed her, but I couldn't get over, because I couldn't build up the speed to get around her.

TWENTY MILES PER HOUR!!!

For the most part, I left my Road Rage skills behind me when the baby was born so I'm not that adept at what to do in these situations anymore.

...Luckily, Edweird was with us.

"Ram that fucking bitch's ass!" he hollered. "Kill that fucking whore!!"

Wendigo laughed nervously as if I was actually going to take Edweird up on the dare.

I finally did something that I probably shouldn't have done.

I honked at her.

And then I waved my hands as if I was scooting a small child out of the room.

"Let's go, granny," I said, reaching the peak of my road rage.

Granny was oblivious to my honking. She just kept putt-putt-putting along like her transmission was dragging behind her.

We finally got to the turn off into the Executive Park where the office is and Granny turns right in front of us.

...Naturally, she had to slam on the brakes before she took the turn and come to a complete stop before turning right off of the road.

Of course Granny. Stop in the middle of the busiest damned road in town. I'm right behind you in the mini van. If anyone is going to get hit, it's ME, YOU WRETCHED WOMAN!!

She turns, I exhale, nobody dies.

She kept putting past our office building so I was glad to see it wasn't a co-worker I had just honked and threatened with my "scooting" hand signal.

I swear.

When I'm dead and buried, I want "At least the old ladies can't bother me anymore" written on my tombstone.

I don't think that's too much to ask.