EMINEM WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE

Happy Day After Martin Luther King Day!!!

Here in Montgomery, Allybammer, we had us one fiiiine parade ....

(Sorry ... conjuring the spirit of Sheriff Andy Taylor there...)

I didn't go to the parade because ... well ... I'm Caucasian and was working.

Well ... okay ... I wasn't working per se ... I was watching El Baby.

El Baby.

Maybe I should get him a little baby wrestling mask and make him wear it everywhere he goes.

"The Masked Pooper".

Yeah...that's what I should do with the kid.

Ooooo...speaking of wrestling ... okay ... I KNOW I'm about to discuss something here that NONE of you (save Passion8love ) saw ... but on World Championship Wrestling last night, they had some footage where one of the wrestlers, Sid Vicious, broke his leg at a Pay-Per-View the other night.

Kids ... that was the most horrifying thing I think I've ever seen on television.

All the guy did was jump down off one of the ring ropes, but he landed wrong and his leg looked like rubber.

His foot almost turned all the way around. Jesus ... it's really hard to explain except it was the sickest looking injury I've ever seen.

It sure beat the hell out of that Joe Theissman leg break a few years ago from the NFL.

....Alright then ... I just alienated about 98% of my readers. I guess I should move on...

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Soooooo...I STILL haven't written a humor column for this week.

I came home from the office yesterday at noon, specifically to write a column.

I thought...okay...here's what I thought. I thought "I'll feed Andy, put him down for a nap, squeeze out a column."

Well...guess what, non-sports fans??

ANDY WOULDN'T GO DOWN FOR A NAP.

By 4 p.m., I was begging the kid ... "PLEEEEASE Andy...take a nap."

Uh-uh.

He wanted to sit and stare at the lamps and fireplace.

The kid LOVES to stare at lights. You'd think our lamp in the den was a little naked baby girl, he stares at it so much.

Sooooo...because Jr. likes to fuck with Daddy when he's supposed to be working ... I'm stuck with nothing.

Zip.

Zilch.

Nada.

I actually wrote the world's shortest humor column last week and didn't run it.

It had exactly one chuckle in it.

But oh boy...was it a doozy.

Something about my kid staring at lamps and how they may as well be little naked baby girls since he stares at them so much.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA AH AH AH HA HA HA HA!!!

Oh man...that's some funny stuff!!

(Uncle Bob wipes away an imaginary tear from his laughing fit)

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So I called the little dope fiend up to tell him that I'd be selling him my wife's old car for four hundred dollars.

He about pissed himself. Then again ... it coulda been the crack.

I told him this at 9 a.m. and that we would do the transaction on WEDNESDAY.

He called me back an hour later..."Can we do this today?"

No, you high-assed shithead ... WEDNESDAY.

He called me again at 2 p.m.

"Can I just come get the car and drive it and you give me the title on Wednesday?"

Look you insufferable piece of hamster shit ... NO. If you drive it while the title is still in my name and wreck it (which is inevitable ... he's 16 and already wrecked two cars...not bad...but he did wreck 'em), then it's MY ass.

So no. Wednesday.

He called me again at 9 p.m.

"My mom says that YOU need to take care of the title...not me."

Yes, son. I'm fully aware of that. I HAVE the title. On Wednesday, when you give me four hundred dollars, I will hand YOU the title. Then the car will be YOURS.

Christ almighty. I'm dealing with a kid who has Jell-o for brains.

I'm already regretting selling the car to this kid.

Point blank, I probably could have gotten close to a grand for the car. It's officially an antique car and Susie ALWAYS had men walking up to her wanting to buy it wherever she took it.

But, it hasn't been on the road since August of last year. I have NO IDEA how well it runs now.

I told the kid yesterday, I'm selling him the car "AS IS" which means if it falls apart in a week, it's not my fault.

He says he understood.

Sadly, I don't think he did. I think he thought I said "If it falls apart in a week, call me several times and bitch to me about it and I'll fix it or give you your money back."

Jeez, this kid's an idiot.

He's already dropped out of school at 16. He's got a J-O-B as a janitor at a local hospital.

...And he's got an Eminem haircut. Which is soooooo original...gee whiz...you sure don't see that many teenage boys with bleached short hair hanging around the mall these days, do you??

(Uncle Bob rolls his eyes until dizziness sets in)

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I finished reading all 50-plus Junior Miss essays last night.

Jeez. I feel like I contracted diabetes from reading them, they were all so sweet.

The theme for the essay (as it is every year) is "Be Your Best Self".

Usually, every year, there's maybe one essay that stands out from all the others and is really good reading.

This year, for me anyway, it was a girl who told the story of how she REALLY wanted a fur coat that was on sale. She asked her mom for the two hundred dollars for the fur coat. Her mom told her to get a job, because she would appreciate the coat much more if she did that.

She told her Mom "How can I appreciate that coat any more than I do right now?" or words to that effect.

So anyway...she gets the job, saves the money and goes to buy the coat.

She walks into the mall (it's Christmas time) and sees one of those Angel trees where needy kids have little lists of things they need on it.

She stops to look at it and sees a little girl who NEEDS a coat for winter.

Not a fur coat. Just a coat.

A fucking coat.

...Okay...I'm tearing up here ... this shit always manages to choke me up.

Anyway ... the Junior Miss contestant takes the money that she was going to spend on her fur coat and buys this little girl a coat and some clothes for Christmas.

THEN...she realizes ... THAT'S how she would appreciate that coat even more. That fur coat prompted her to save enough cash to make a little girl's Christmas a little bit better than it was going to be.

Damn.

Now that was a GOOD essay.

Granted, little miss Beauty Pageant probably made the whole thing up, just to tug at my big ol' heartstrings.

But I fell for it hook, line and sinker and gave the essay a perfect score.

Now then.

If you'll excuse me.

I've got some coats I need to go steal from little poor kids.

... Damned urchins.