IS HE....ON SOMETHING??

M'God...I'm SOOOOO glad it's Wednesday.

My weekend was beyond hectic and full of trepidation. I was worried about all the writing I had to do ... I was worried about those stinking fair contests (yet I took home $75 righteous bucks after splitting our winnings down the middle with the human wiener cannon, Mattie Gee)and I had a newspaper to put out with no stories.

ALL of that is behind me now and I can finally exhale.

...And ... of course ... inhale. If all I did was exhale, my lungs would bleed out my mouth.

Did I mention that if you would like ... I'll stop the world and melt with you?

I...didn't know...if I mentioned that...

(Bob crosses his ankles and looks up at you, smiling shyly)

Sorry ... really gay cyber flirting.

Oh yeah...by the way ... I'm back to using the word "sorry" and "apology" in my entries. So many people wrote me and told me to quit apologizing about everything I write that I quit using the words.

But I was raised proper...just like Opie Taylor. And I'll be damned if I ain't go' apologize when I's wrong.

Sorry ... really southern black lingo...

Hey......

Guess what????

I HAVE NOTHING OF INTEREST TO WRITE TODAY!!!

But that's not going to stop me here today....

Ohhhhhh no....not me, baby.....

I update whether I have anything to say or not.

It's a workout for me, ya understand.

It's like how an athlete works out before the big game ... by practicing all week long.

Or how like an Olympic athlete has to suck a woody before each competition.

Oh! It's true! It's true!

Anyway, I use this diary to try crap out in. If I like it, I use it in the gigs where I actually make a buck or two from it.

You my guinea pig, dear diary.

You my love and my's inspiration.

HEY ... did I ever tell you guys that I always thought I'd be a songwriter when I got older??

You know...I probably have told you that story.

Ah well ... fuck it ... if you've heard this one, leave now. I've got your hit. I'm fulfilled. I'm laying on the king sized Diaryland bed, all smoking a cigarette and shit with a big assed smile across my face and the bed sheet draped over my crotch while you lay there, unfulfilled ... left wanting more from your Uncle Bob. Thinking..."You've told us this story before, Uncle Bob. Please don't make me get up and go look for your magic elsewhere. Finish the job, Uncle Bob....give me something fun to look at...just like that banner says at the top.

Eh. Whatever.

*smoke,smoke,smoke*

Sooo....I still haven't thought of anything to write about.

I feel like a long-winded version of Schmez.

Heh ... wow...I just got major sidetracked.

Like...just ate 20 minutes of my morning up.

Hence ... I've gotta go, dude. I'll tell you the songwriter story some other time.

I'm outta here...I've got a meeting with Emilio Estevez in 30 minutes.

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QUESTION OF THE DAY

Tell us about the best party you've ever attended.