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12:32 p.m. - 2001-07-30

DIDN'T WE HAVE SEX ON SOME LAWN FURNITURE ABOUT TWENTY YEARS AGO?

So Edweird and I just got back from lunch at the Chinese buffet place that we like so much with Edweird's friend and my acquaintance...Scott.

Edweird loves the place because he says they have the "fuckin' best assgas bitch sweet and motherfucking sour ass chicken" in town. Plus...it's cheap.

So we walk in and I see my old roommate Dick, who I've written about before in this diary. Dick earned his name through threatening to call the cops on me for smoking dope in my room, putting an end to a party I was throwing because there were "too many people" in the apartment and ruining every single chance I had to get laid in the summer of 1986 because he would show his face around the women I had brought home and they would be so frightened of him, they'd beg me to take them home.

So anyway...he's there. The last time I spoke to him was right before Andy was born nine months ago. He told me to call him once the baby was born and I fully intended on doing so. Except I just got so darned busy being a daddy and all that it slipped my mind for nine months.

Anyway...

He was with his sister who was all gray-headed. I didn't even recognize her, but then again, I hadn't seen her since 1986, so I'm allowed such indiscretions. We talked for a bit until I finally excused myself to go eat with the people I came with.

So I'm walking back to my table and I see this girl at the buffet bar.

I slept with this girl in 1984. One time.

We had gone to see "Purple Rain". Afterwards, we went back to her place, drank some wine, went out to her patio, got naked, and had sex in one of those vinyl lounge chairs.

The sex wasn't that great or memorable. She probably felt the same. I'm not at my best when I'm drunk in a bird-shit-covered lounge chair on a humid southern evening, trying to buck like a bronco when there's no give in the chair.

I could NOT remember the girl's name.

This doesn't normally happen to me. I can usually remember names of girls I slept with at the drop of a hat.

But this was one night.

One girl.

Whose name I could NOT remember.

I remember the girl vividly. And over the years, every now and then I've thought of her and thought..."What would happen if I ever ran into her? I can't remember her name."

I think it was Kathy.

Or Lucy.

Maybe Sharon.

Possibly Denise.

But I have no freakin' idea of her actual name.

So me...like an idiot...I point the girl out to Edweird and Scott.

"I slept with that girl," I whispered as I sat down.

"WHICH GIRL?" Edweird says in a voice that would wake the dead.

I motioned with my head in her direction.

So now, these guys wanna see what kinda gal would sleep with my dumb ass.

They're staring at her like she's got four breasts.

She gets up again about fifteen minutes later and gets a few more things off the buffet.

I turn the other way and look out the window like there's something that desperately needs my attention out there other than a parking lot full of cars.

I regretted saying anything about her to them. I can trust Edweird to keep his mouth shut. But Scott's the type of guy who would get right in front of her on the buffet line and say "Remember sleeping with Uncle Bob back in '84? He's right over here!"

Scott's a bit on the dangerous side. He'd definitely do something like that as a gag.

Just as we were getting ready to leave, she was leaving with her lunch companion. I made Edweird sit back down until they had paid their bill and left the building. I didn't want to get up there and have Scott say my name real loud over and over again until she turned around and feigned surprise at seeing me.

Anyway...that was lunch.


In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to answer anything anyone has to talk about on my message board these days since I obviously have plenty of time on my hands during the days.

So today we'll play Ask Uncle Bob.

If you have a question, either about me or something I might know about, or if you just want some advice ... by God...Ask Uncle Bob.

Yeah.

That should make this afternoon go a bit quicker.


Took Andy to daycare today for the first time in six weeks, now that Miss Robin has gotten over her appendicitis.

He wasn't too thrilled with having to get dressed and go for a ride so early in the morning. I kept singing the "We're Going To Miss Robin's" song, but even that didn't appease him.

Once we got there and Miss Robin held him, he looked around the house to see if his other playmates were there. They weren't, but he seemed cool when I left him.

Susie called over there and he's doing just fine. He was taking a LOOONG nap when she called...almost two hours this morning. That's unheard of for him, but we really screwed his schedule up this weekend.

I love that kid. There's nothing better than going home to a little toddler who's glad to see his Daddy so he can have someone to climb on and crawl on.

I do have one little problem with him though.

Kissing.

Y'see...I can't control myself...I love to kiss my kid. He's just so awesome and I can't keep my lips off of him.

I used to give him little pecks on the lips when he was younger.

Well...now...HE wants to kiss.

So if he's on my lap, he'll reach up, hold my face still with a hand on either cheek, open his mouth as wide as it will go and press it against mine.

I make little pecking kisses inside his open mouth while he creates a mouth vacuum on my face.

The other day...he uhhhhh...he uhhhhhh...

Well...he Frenched me.

Okay...I've never Frenched another male. Let alone a male relative. Let alone a male relative who happens to be my eight month-old son.

It wasn't erotic. He just started licking my lips.

I don't think he knew any better. To the best of my knowledge, he doesn't watch soap operas.

I've never given him an open mouthed kiss. My kisses are quick little pecks to make him laugh...not long, drawn-out tongue wrestling events.

My BIGGEST FEAR from all this is that someday, when he's 16 or so, he'll be on a date and be getting his groove on with some young hottie and when she compliments him on his kissing techniques, he'll non-chalantly say "Oh...my Daddy taught me how to kiss."

I know...I know...creepy.

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