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5:42 a.m. - 2001-11-26

WALKING THE WALK OF THE DAMNED

I have recently (ten minutes ago) made a decision that will most likely change my life forever.

Ladies and gentlemen...I have decided to become ... a mall walker.

As I laid in bed this morning, I tried to remember the last time I had actually arose out of bed and walked my two miles.

Sadly...it was last Tuesday. A week ago.

The reason I haven't walked since then is simple. I don't want to.

First off, it's too damned early. Walking two miles and being home by 5:30 a.m. is killing me.

Second, it's getting cold. And when I say cold, I'm not talking "Wisconsin Cold" or "Canada Cold"...I'm talking "Alabama Cold". It got down to the 30's a few nights ago. That's ludicrous, my friend. To quote Martha Stewart..."I ain't walkin' in that shit."

So I laid there in my warm bed this morning and watched the minutes tick away on my alarm clock. When it got to be 4:46, I had made the decision that I wasn't walking this morning.

I silently cursed myself. I let myself have it too. I invented some curse words specifically for the occasion. "Non-walking Cataphorring Falargus!" was a particular favorite.

As 4:50 came around, I tried to think of an alternative. I can't really walk when I get home from work because I've got too much to do.

So when do I walk??

Answer: My lunch hour.

Right now, all I do is eat my sandwich, pretzels, yogurt and banana and then surf the web anyway. So why not hop in the car, cruise the mile to the mall and become one of the few. The proud. The elite. The Mall Walkers of America.

Other than the fact that I'm about 30 years younger than your average Mall Walker...there's not much holding me back.

Plus, I've always really despised Mall Walkers. Mall Walkers and Really Bad Dancers. Because neither group has a sense of humor about what they're doing. Don't believe me? Watch them sometimes. Check out either a Mall Walker or a Really Bad Dancer. They won't smile. They're focused on the task at hand and are as serious as a heart attack about it.

And Mall Walkers are really a pain in the ass. They have an agenda and that is to walk as briskly through the corners of the mall as quickly as possible. And if you get in their way, they're liable to really give you an old-fashioned glare-down. One time, I went to the mall to actually SHOP and almost had a collision with a Mall Walker as I tried to enter a store.

"Goddamned kid," the old man muttered, as he had to momentarily slow down in order to avoid mowing me down with his supersonic speed.

"Fuckin' Mall Walker," I muttered back, purposely classifying him as no better than all the other Mall Walking Scum.

So as you can see, this is a big step for me. This means I'm throwing in the towel and admitting that I have a problem...I'm mildly retarded because I want to be associated with old people.

I'm going to try to be as nonchalant as possible about my mall walking. I'm not going to wear a paper thin sweat suit. I'm not going to check my pulse every 20 feet. I don't plan on walking along the outskirts of the mall, staying closely to the walls. And I'm going to walk at a leisurely pace and not be hellbent on busting my ass to get to the finish line.

Oh...and I'm going to smile. I think smiling alone should throw the dogs off my scent and make people think I'm shopping instead of Mall Walking.

I think this should work for me. If I manage to walk 30 minutes during lunch, it should be better for me than getting up at 4:45 and walking.

I hope so anyway. If I'm going to reduce myself to the shame of being an actual Mall Walker, something good had better come from it.


I got on the scale yesterday and I've now lost 18 lbs. in a little over two months.

This averages to about 2 lbs. a week lost.

It's coming off slowly and gradually. Already, people are saying "Uncle Bob...you're looking gaunt and sexy."

And I respond with "Yes...yes I know. I am one hot chili pepper, yes I am."

I must keep up the facade that I'm an egotistical bastard. I can't let everyone down.


Susie was sick all day yesterday.

She thinks it's something she ate because she shat half her lower intestines out at one point during the day.

She stayed in bed until 4 p.m., got up to get some crackers and Gatorade, then went back to bed until 7:30. She then got up and had a spoonful of soup that I had made for her, then went to take a hot bath to soothe her aching colon.

Meanwhile, it was an "Andy and Daddy Day" yesterday. We watched "Dawn of the Dead" together, which I think was a little over his head. Every time I'd yell "LOOK OUT! A FUCKIN' ZOMBIEEEEE!!!" he'd glance at the TV and then go back to playing with his Piglet doll.

The kid's a strange one, he is.


Oh...he is REALLY into his penis now.

While Mama took a bath last night, he stood at the tub and watched her intently. Finally, she decided to bring him in there with her. So they took a bath together, after which I pulled him out of there, toweled him off and we laid on our bed and watched TV.

I didn't put a diaper on him at first.

And man...did that kid ever take advantage of his nakedness.

His hands instinctively went for his pecker. He yanked on it and stared at it and pointed it upwards toward his face.

I thought for sure he was about to piss right into his own face. That little bastard was getting harder than Chinese arithmetic.

I ran to his room, grabbed a diaper and got it on him before he could do any irreperable damage to himself.

He loves that pecker though.

I'm so proud of the boy.


Ahhhh...I hear him crying now, so it's time to go.

He probably thinks he lost his pecker.

I'd better go show him it's still there so he'll stop crying.

Adios.


Oh!

By the way, I've been recruited to have you guys go visit Cool Site Of The Day and vote for today's site. That's today...Monday...November 26th. Just click on "Today's Cool Site", then vote on it. Preferably giving it a 10. Capiche?? Just do it, you vagabond. You'll make your Uncle Bob very happy indeed.

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