WHAT'D YOU WANT? A FREAKIN' TIE???

My God, I can hardly see.

At 5 a.m., Andy started crying because there was some kind of wildebeast in his room or some shit. So I jump out of bed, open my peepers and pain shot through my left eye and I ran smack dab into a dresser.

I think I musta had a crusty sleep booger or eyelash worm its way in there and scratch whatever the hell it is that shoots pain in your eye once it's been scratched.

Ouch it hurts.

I had to go lay down back in bed with a wet wash cloth over my eyes, trying to suck some of the pain out.

Luckilyf or you, I can taype withe my eeye sclosed.

Sooooo...did I have a happy Father's Day?

Ummmmm...it was okay. Pretty much just like any other day though, really.

Andy bought me a t-shirt that had a crude stick figure drawn on it called "Dad" and pointed out all the fun things about "Dad" ... like he had arms to climb on and legs to hump and a big belly to bounce off of and a bald spot to check his reflection out in and ....

WAIT A MINUTE!

This shirt is INSULTING!

....rabble scrabble Andy ...

He also got me a nice little children's book called "My Dad Is Awesome" or some shit like that. I guess he wants me to read it to him, but every time I try to read a book to the kid it goes STRAIGHT into his mouth and becomes a soggy pile of paper in minutes, while his face absorbs all the ink from the pages.

Sooooo...he doesn't get the book read to him until later.

I dunno. In a way, I expected more, since Susie got $130 worth of lingerie and I got a five dollar t-shirt and a book that looks suspiciously like it came from the Dollar Store.

Still...I'm thankful for what I have. And that's a baby boy who's scared shitless of wildebeasts.

My eyesight is slowly coming back to me, but damn...this computer monitor is bright. I feel like I'm staring into the sun, except with a shitty diary entry typed directly onto the sun.

I didn't get much of a chance to talk about the three girls spending the night here Saturday night except how I thought the oldest one was mentally challenged.

She wasn't. She just talked very quietly and oddly ... more of a grunt than an actual language.

Anyway...Saturday night, they're going through my DVD collection and they want to watch a movie while they fall asleep.

I say okay.

They want to watch "Me Myself & Irene".

A fine choice, sir. A rather humorous look into the world of schizophrenia.

Ah yes...let's put the disc in and .....wait a minute....are any of you girls 18 or older?

"No sir." "No sir." "Nnngh nnnngh."

I look at Susie who is shaking her head "No".

"Look," I say, wanting to be cool. "Me Myself and Irene is R-rated, and y'all aren't old enough to watch it."

"My mom said it was okay for me to watch it," the 13 year-old says.

Of course they say that. Like I don't have nephews who have tried that line on me every single time they want to watch an R-rated movie at my house.

What am I? Stupid?!?

...Okay...yeah, I'm a little ignorant. But I've heard that line before.

"Girls, we're going to have to watch something that's not R-rated."

They handle it very cool.

So they pull down "Almost Famous".

It's R-rated too. I only saw it once, so I can't really remember why it's R-rated. Probably the language, but I couldn't remember other than that.

So I didn't tell Susie. I just let them put that and "The Sixth Sense" in the DVD player and went to bed.

My selection of DVDs that aren't R-rated completely sucks.

I was reminded of this Saturday night by these girls.

... Over and over again.

Yesterday morning, trying to get these three up and in the shower was a challenge.

By the time all was said and done, only one of them showered. The other two went to church all grungey.

This kinda shocked me, because I thought girls were all dainty and shit and always wanted to be clean and fresh smelling.

Wrong, Slim.

These gals ... at first I thought one of them ummmmmm...started her period and didn't bring any feminine hygiene products. Because Sunday morning, my house REEKED.

I couldn't pinpoint the smell, but that was all I could think of.

Susie smelled it too, and said that it was coming from one of the girl's bags. It smelled like either there was some mildewing clothes in there or someone had some rotting pastrami shoved in their bag.

Either way, it stunk and I was glad the girls left when they did because I couldn't stand the stench much longer.

I took them to church in the morning and they jammed out to one of my CDs which proves that Uncle Bob is still in touch musically with the kids.

It also proves I'm officially the Dad that thinks he's hip and cool because he's "down" with the kid's "scene".

I always hated those kinda Dads.

But shit. What can I say? I love me some rocks and rolls.

I spent most of yesterday grilling some ribs using that Dreamland BBQ Sauce Recipe that I gave y'all for our monthly Fellowship Dinner at the church last night.

They went over exceptionally well. One kid...probably about 8 years old ... ate four of the ribs. Granted, he was probably up all night with a belly full of pork rumbling around in his innards ... but hey...he's not MY kid, so why should I worry?

Since they were so large, I probably had 30 ribs there ... and they were allll gone in no time.

So give that recipe a try. Get some spare ribs, salt and pepper them, then put them on the grill over low heat for 1 hour and 45 minutes, basting with the sauce for the last 45 minutes or so.

Thank me later.

Speaking of thanking...thanks to those that sent me Father's Day wishes yesterday.

Y'all are too sweet. If you were all ice cream, your flavor would be Triple Chocolate Surprise With Candy Cane Chunks and Five Pounds of Sugar Mixed-In Ice Cream.

Or something like that.

Because you're all so damned sweet.

Granted, I'm talking about not only the emails and messages I received, but every single diarist that wished a generic "Happy Father's Day" in their diary.

I'm egotistical that way.

Watched "Fear Factor" again last night.

Pissed my pants again last night.

I love that show.

It's on NBC again tonight...check your local listings for time and channel, because I'm too g-damned lazy to do it for each and every one of you.

Yesterday at church, all the kids from Atlanta who had performed a little play before church, including the three that spent the night with us, stayed for the church service, which I thought was nice.

One of the senior girls sat next to me during the service and about halfway through the service, she stretched out in her chair, closed her eyes and began to nod off.

I sat there thinking "How rude. You're a guest in our church, and your legs are stretched out before you, you're slumped in your chair and lightly snoring."

I mean ... really. Visit a church and then fall asleep there. That is just rude to me.

I was so offended, I reached over and got a tit squeeze.

Hey. I'm not going to give up a tit squeeze on a sleeping chick just because we're in church, dude.

Still...that was just really rude in my book.

Rude, rude, rude.

That's it. I can see again so I don't think I'm going to be permanently blinded by this freak eye accident, which is a good thing.

My vision is blluurreedd though.

I'm going to go chill with the mom and pup. Take care, dudes.