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10:03:09 - 2000-10-15

CHAIRS, CHAT AND CHILDREN'S CLOTHES

A quick reminder for the Lone Ranger: The baby is due on November 9th.

A quick reminder II: But babies can come anywhere from two weeks BEFORE the due date to two weeks AFTER the due date.

Son of A Quick reminder: That means that technically, a week from this Thursday, I could be a daddy.

Return of the son of the quick reminders: However, it's common for a woman to be late in delivering her first baby.

Regardless...in about a month's time, I should be getting no sleep, be covered in baby pee and wishing for the days when I was the biggest baby under this roof.

Had a semi-productive day yesterday ...

Went shopping for gliders ... they're like rocking chairs except they slide back and forth. Well ... they don't slide as much as they ... glide...back and forth.

Went to one furniture store in town where we met Mr. Pushy.

Mr. Pushy needed our commission money. He wanted to sell us a glider so bad he was willing to LIE to get our money.

Tsk, tsk, Mr. Pushy.

"How are you two today," he asked as we walked in the door and shook our hands. "I'm Mr. Pushy."

"Yes you are," I said, pumping his hand.

"When's the baby due," he quietly asked my wife.

"She's not pregnant, she's just fat," I said, acting all annoyed.

"Oh my!" Mr. Pushy said. "I'm....I'm sorry."

"He's kidding," my wife, the spoil sport said. "It's due in a few weeks."

Mr. Pushy gave me a look that said "Go wait in the car, asshole."

I smiled because I was the customer and dammit all to hell...I'm ALWAYS right!

So we look at the store's THREE gliders.

THREE.

Apparently, gliders are in as much demand as AIDS these days.

The cheapest glider was $525. We had just been to a store that had a nice glider and ottoman for $300.

So it was obvious that Mr. Pushy wouldn't be getting a check from us today.

But this guy wouldn't LET UP. He even made ME sit in a glider.

"Try it out Mr. Donovan," he said, mangling my last name.

I sat down in the glider. It was comfy. It was no leather recliner with a massager, but it was comfy.

"It's comfy," I said.

"I can have it delivered to your house this afternoon," Mr. Pushy said, pulling out a ball point pen and a contract.

Where in THE HELL did this guy get "I wanna buy it" out of "It's comfy"??

We hurried up and left the store with Mr. Pushy hot on our heels. He almost followed us out to the parking lot, but as we all know...salesmen are like vampires. If they get out into the sun, they'll burst into flames.

We got in the car and drove off. Mr. Pushy was standing at the front door, palms on the window, baring his fangs, begging us to come back and buy a super expensive piece of shit.

We decided on the $300 one. It's to be delivered on Monday.

*********************************

I tried to watch football yesterday but just wasn't into it.

Go me!

*********************************

Susie got her hair whacked off because she's at that point in her pregnancy that's called "Nesting".

It's basically where the woman shifts it into overdrive, trying to get her entire life in order before the baby comes.

She's cleaned every nook and cranny of this house. She stayed up until midnight last night washing clothes and sorting the baby clothes that we have by age/size.

We've got a shitload of baby clothes now. Easily 100 different pieces.

The sad part is ... it'll all be outgrown in a year.

Even sadder ... we'll have to have more clothes in a year's time.

Saddest ... I'LL have to buy all the clothes this time...not friends and family.

...This kid had BETTER be worth it.

***********************************

Went into the Diaryland Chat Room last night for the first time.

Like any chat room ... there were about ten people in there with four doing all the chatting.

Reminded me why I quit IRC in the first place.

I did get to talk to Wendyloo, who I've known for years and Starryiied who figured out who I was quickly.

(I was using an alias. My original intention was to go in and lurk and watch the others while incognito. But she pegged me. Smart gal.)

I saw that someone had started the channel "Uncle Bob Army" in the Diaryland Chat area.

Now what in God's name does one talk about in that channel??

ME???

Gimme a fuckin' break.

I guess you could go in there and dissect my typing skills or my love affair with HTML codes or the way I keep recycling the same lines over and over or compare notes on my various whinings.

...But WHY???

*sigh*

I went into the channel for a split second. The only person in there was Apatheticq, who was burning the Uncle Bob Army torch brightly by himself.

GO APATHETICQ!!!!

I was messaged by one person in the channel who wanted to know my age/sex/location.

Okay ... I HATE the a/s/l question.

HATE IT.

I finally played along and gave them the a/s/l.

They give me theirs.

A 10-year-old female.

No offense to you 10-year-olds out there ... but Uncle Bob has very little in common with you, other than the fact that I like chocolate chip cookies too.

I don't come online to chat with children. I don't hate my teachers or my parents. I don't watch "Blue's Clues" or "Pokemon". I only know one Backstreet Boys song and one N'Sync song.

Therefore ... I have nothing to talk about with 10-year-olds.

Yet ... that is the pitfalls of any chat room. Being forced to be nice to wayward children.

Maybe Q was the smart one after all. Start a channel with nobody in it and stay there until the grumpy old people show up, bitching about the kids.

Ahhhhh....chat room heaven....

Oh!! I need your help, peeps!!

Please answer the

QUESTION OF THE DAY

I'm supposed to buy my wife something nice after she's given birth ... it's some kinda baby tradition thing. Most people suggest jewelry, but she's not really a jewelry person. Any suggestions???,

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