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4:20 a.m. - 2000-12-16

THE FOLLOWING IS MUCH HARDER TO DO THAN IT LOOKS. PLEASE ... DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME

So ... I get an eerie feeling I'm going to be watched by a few more eyes in the upcoming days ...

*grin*

It is my understanding that a few more people have been told about this site in the past 24 hours and this is my first attempt to clear the record on a little matter somewhere else on this website.

I OWE it to the Army to tell you the truth.

Ahem.

Tee hee!

Okay ... here goes...

(Uncle Bob takes a deep, nervous breath)

RememberthatwebsitethatIsaidIwasNEVERresponsiblefor???

Okay...that WAS me.

If you have NO CLUE as to what website I'm talking about ... I've denied in this diary on at least two times that I was not the person behind the diary.

Look it up if you have no clue. Christ. I have ARCHIVES, you know.

Sheesh.

Anyway. That site was closed down yesterday.

And ... sadly ... due to time restraints I have put upon myself to kick this puppy out before 5 a.m. ... I cannot go into any further detail.

While some people are saying "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" and calling me things like "Rat Fucker" and "walrus ass licker", I have this to say ...

...I've hurt that man enough. And hey ... I'm sorry.

Call it what you want.

Call it my newfound faith in our lord and savior Jesus Christ.

Call it a moment of clarity.

Call it a 14 page document from some pretty tough-sounding lawyers.

I don't care.

...But I'd place big money on the latter in Vegas.

And I ain't GOT big money in the first place.

Therefore, it's over.

The OTHER diary, that is.

Uncle Bob is your new buddy now.

(Uncle Bob outstretches his arms, gets an ear to ear grin on his face and hugs you tightly, cupping your cyber ass ever so gently)

WHOOOO!!

Gotcha!

_____________________________________

Alright then...

Let's talk just a little bit about me to the new folks showing up today.

I'm a Capricorn.

I like peanut butter.

I used to have a purple bong named Bongzilla in college.

I've been married for 12 years and we just had our first baby Andrew six WEEKS ago.

He is the most adorable perfect baby and he's so intelligent he's already been accepted at Yale. No...you can't have him.

I haven't been laid in a while. I think I've reached that age where sex is no longer important to me. Sadly ... my wife will reach her sexual prime in five years. I've already promised her a young stud lover or seven if she needs them.

She's already gleefully agreed to that plan.

And asked to throw in a few cheerleaders as well. That part kinda threw me.

Wait a second here...I'm supposed to be LISTING shit here...

Jeezum crow...dagnabbit...

(Uncle Bob shuffles papers, CD cases, remote controls and empty Coca Cola cans around his desk)

...I lost the freakin' list ...

So anyway ...

_____________________________________

GUESS WHAT?!?!?!

ANDREW LOST HIS UMBILICAL CORD LAST NIGHT!!!

(Choir breaks into "HALLELUJAH!! HALLELUJAH!!!")

....man...Hallelujah is a bitch to spell early in the morning...

We were so excited. I mean...the kid is six weeks and two days old. He shoulda lost this cord a month ago. It's been hanging on by a thread for like a week.

You know ... umbilical cords used to gross me out before I had a kid of my own. Now it's fascinating.

I remember having friends who saved their kids umbilical cords after they fell out. And I thought that was grosser than meeting someone with a booger hanging on a nostril hair.

But now...after cleaning that thing on a daily basis and watching it shrivel up slowly over the weeks, I kinda grew attached to it, if you'll accept that bad pun.

However, I won't be saving the now-detatched cord.

...Mainly because we can't find the damned thing ...

We were teaching Andrew (named after Andrew of Diaryland ... shh...he doesn't know...) how to scoot on his hands and knees across his activity mat when the cord popped out. He was wearing a little nightgown that had kinda bunched up around his belly.

To make a long story short...we looked high and low for the cord and can't find it anywhere.

I'm convinced the dog ate it.

At one point, the dog sniffed the mat and I saw her lick it.

I told the dog to stop. She took one more lick of the mat and looked at me as if to say "Is that 'Stop' as in 'Stop or I'll tell you to stop again' or 'Stop or I'm going to beat your hairy dog ass'? I need an answer real soon, master. Like ... sometime before you say 'Stop' again."

I told her to stop again and she stopped.

It's not solid evidence that my dog ate the umbilical cord.

But it's the only lead I've got right now, Captain.

_____________________________________

The 5 a.m. hour arises.

It's nice to know I don't have to do two diary entries a day any more.

It's time for me to go.

It's been nice talking to you.

Let's do it again sometime.

Rock on wi'cha bad self.

Ooooo yeah.

Have mercy.

Take my name in vain and call me your bitch, sistah.

Get your booty thumpin' to the sounds of the disco,

I'm Stars on 45, baby.

I'm outtie.

_____________________________________

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