GOD DOESN'T LIKE PEOPLE WHO FART IN HIS HOUSE

First off, a big bucket of sloppy "Thank You's" go out to everyone who left me a message yesterday giving me tips on what gift to buy my wife after she pops this baby out in a few weeks. Y'all's ideas were ALL awesome, with many of the gifts in consideration. But the leading one (right now) is Hollique who suggested a gift basket full of goodies for the wife. While all of them were great suggestions, I know my wife well and I think the gift basket would work about the best with her. She's not real extravagant and is a fool for the little things. You are ALL angels and thanks for your help.

You ... you... you damned wonderful people.

Secondly ... I'm one tired bastard.

The alarm went off at 5 and I shut it off and dozed back off, thinking (hoping) today was Sunday. Sadly ... we just finished up with Sunday. It's just another Manic Monday. I wish it was Sunday. 'Cause that's my funday. My "I Don't Have To Run" Day. Yet, it's just another Manic Monday.

(Uncle Bob shakes his ass firmly, yet delicately)

Forgive me if this entry is rather...ummm...ignorant. I stayed up late last night writing for a paying gig and my brain ain't all here today.

Oh yeah, how could I forget?? Yesterday, somebody farted in church.

I never thought I'd live to see the day when someone farted in church, but there it was. Fart City, baby.

We have a minute during the service when everything is silent and we're all supposed to be sending our prayers to Heaven. So everyone's sitting there, and about 45 seconds into the minute, you hear this "BLAAAAT!" just as loud as The Who come flying out of someone's ass.

Naturally, I wanna quit praying and fall out of my seat laughing my ass off. The fart was short because whoever dealt it obviously trusted their gastric system to kinda keep the noise at a silent level. Instead, their gastric system decided that this is the one time that they were going to cross wires and produce one loud-assed poot.

After it happened, I expected the silent prayer minute to be cut short so everyone could burst into hysterics and start accusing their neighbors.

Instead, everyone stayed deadly silent and the pastor pretended that it never happened.

I was shocked, appalled and a little flabbergasted.

C'MON PEOPLE!!! WHO FARTED?!?

After church, during our little fellowship dealio, NOBODY owned up to the fart.

Nobody even brought the fart up in conversation.

I was highly disappointed. I have my theories on who farted though and plan on persuing these theories so that I can track down the farter and ...and...I dunno. Point and laugh at them???

Anyway ... when a fart in church is the highlight of my day ... you know it was a slow day for fun.

We went to Walmart and ran into an old friend of ours from the bar days.

I thought IIII had put on weight recently ... this girl had EASILY gained 100 lbs. She used to be a petite little thing and now she was bigger than me.

But she seemed happy. Then again...it coulda been one of her chins smiling at me and not her actual mouth.

I've gotta admit ... I didn't recognize her at first. Susie did. We stood there and they talked for about a minute, before I said to myself "That's Debbie!"

Anyway...

Sooooo...did ya watch "Ed" last night??

I did. Yep, yep, yep.

I like that show. If you haven't seen it yet, check it out ... Sunday nights on NBC.

Oh yeah...and "Jackass" on MTV. I watched that last night. Man ... that show is wild. Last night, they had a fat guy chasing a midget down a busy street while people looked on in horror.

I guess I should add that both of them were in their underwear at the time.

And for those of you who missed Johnny Knoxville put himself in a "Poo Cocktail" last week ... man ... you really need to watch "Jackass".

A "Poo Cocktail", for those of you out of the loop, is when a guy gets into a port-a-potty that has been used all day by some nasty people, and then stays inside while a truck lifts the port-a-potty in the air, flips it upside down, and all the waste matter leaves the toilet area and flows out the top of the port-a-potty. And all over whoever may be inside at the time.

Talk about nasty. I'm a fucking choir boy compared to that shit.

I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with the WWF's Triple H, Chris Jericho, Mick Foley, Chyna and Tazz in a hotel suite on New Years Eve. I kept trying to get everyone to leave the suite and let's go find a bar to party in. But every time we left, one of the wrestlers got beat to a bloody pulp.

Then these college frat boys started invading the hotel suite and wanted to throw their own party. I kept instigating fights between the frat boys and the wrestlers, which the wrestlers kept losing.

THEN...at the end of the dream, I'm walking down a darkened city street with my wife and a gang of white teens come up, wanting to meet the wrestlers. I told them they were back at the hotel. Then one of the teens pulls out a switchblade and tells me he's going to slice my wife's tummy open if I don't take them all to the wrestlers.

Me, and my nocturnal swiftness, grabs the switchblade out of the kid's hand and says "NOW ... who has the upper hand."

Obviously, they did, because they all pulled out switchblades and shoved them in my wife's direction.

The whole dream was so scary at that point that I woke myself up and was glad to know it was just a dream and nobody was going to slice my wife's tummy up and kill my baby.

Morbid, morbid dream.

I guess it's just anticipation setting in.

I just wish it would hurry and get here.

BUT....my little Army heads and those of you gutless cowards who have yet to email me and include yourself in the Army ... when the baby comes, I doubt this diary is updated daily.

I originally planned on dropping it altogether, but I don't really see that happening. For all I know, I may still get a chance to update daily.

We'll just play it by ear, okay??

At that point, I may take Andrew up on that whole "Notify List" thing.

Speaking of which, how 'bout a big hand for our Diaryland Lord and Savior, Andrew? This guy has been on the ball lately with new guestbooks, notify lists and chat channels for us guys and gals, to make the whole Diaryland experience that much more pleasurable.

You rock, m'friend. That's why I'm naming the baby Andrew.

...As far as you know, anyway...

QUESTION OF THE DAY

IF I gave you $250,000 and told you that you had to spend it within a week's time, what would you do with it?