I WANT TO BE JUNIOR MISS BECAUSE MY DOG'S DEAD

Halo.

There's new pics of my Pride and Joy up on the web now.

...And no...I'm not talking about my pecker...

...this time anyway...

So yeah baby...wassap???

I finished my "Ed" recap for Mighty Big TV yesterday. I was kinda proud of myself, because I didn't have enough time to do it really and didn't think I'd get it finished.

But ya know what?? I did.

I MADE TIME, Senor.

Y'know...I've been really lucky to be given "ED" to recap. It's a great show that you should all be watching, PLUS it just got renewed for another season, so I've got daycare covered for a little while.

Go me.

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Every year for the past several years, I serve as one of the three judges for the Alabama Junior Miss contest.

Yesterday, all the essays for the contest were delivered to me to read over the weekend.

Which means I have to read approximately 60 essays entitled "Be Your Best Self" tomorrow.

Some of these essays are really pretty good. I know what to look for in them and I know what constitutes a well-written essay, although you'd never know that from reading THIS bullshit day in and day out.

...But it's the really bad essays that I love.

Some of these girls are just ignorant as all get out when they try to convey their emotions on paper. I had one essay a few years ago that was just godawful bad. The girl ended up talking about her dead dog throughout the essay. And it wasn't like the dog had JUST died ... this dog died when she was like four. And now she's 18.

Honey ... let the damned dog die. Hell ... after this long a period, it's probably not even in Doggie Heaven anymore. It's probably been kicked out and sent to Doggie Purgatory or something.

Anyway ... that's what I have to look forward to this weekend.

Go me.

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I was asked a few weeks ago to play in a charity basketball game that took place last night against the Harlem Ambassadors.

"The Harlem Globetrotters??" I asked excitedly.

No. The Harlem Ambassadors. A cheap rip-off of the Globetrotters.

...And please ... don't mention the Globetrotters around the team.

I turned them down. My elbow is still sore as a whore's coochie from that harrowing game of Broomball that I took place in last summer.

I need to get back into physical therapy.

Really. I do.

But damn. They treat my elbow like a bad dog over there.

Hence my hesitation.

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There's not much else news to share with ya ... and I've got some stuff to do for work. So I'm going to let you go now.

Can you handle it?

A brief Friday with Uncle Bob??

Sorry, kid ... you're going to have to.

Take care...see you this weekend between reading horrid essays.