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12:31 p.m. - 2001-09-10

THE FIRST STEP TO OVERCOMING THE PROBLEM IS TO ADMIT YOU HAVE A PROBLEM

Hi.

I'm Uncle Bob.

And I'm an addict.

(Hi Uncle Bob!)

For the life of me...I can NOT quit licking the lids of my pudding containers.

I'm a grown man, I have my own office in a swanky building.

And I sit here at my desk, eating my lunch and licking the pudding off of my tin foil lids.

I was spotted early in my tenure here by one of my co-workers as she walked past the office door and saw me in here, licking the foil like I was a homeless man in a KFC dumpster.

You would THINK that would have made me stop right there.

Nope.

I still take that chance every day and lick it. Sure...I'm nervous someone could be walking down the hall, look in and see me slurping away on this thing like a virgin performing oral sex for the first time. It's a legitimate worry of mine, sure.

But I still do it.

And I need help.

I do it subconsciously. Before I know it...BAM! The foil's in front of my face and my tongue is hanging out like a dehydrated dog.

Help me.

Please.

I'm begging.


So ... Edweird and I used up a fair amount of our lunch hour going back to our old stomping grounds...the newspaper at which we were both employed.

I had written a story on our church's new addition and wanted it in the paper. Hence our trip there.

It was good to see everyone again since I haven't seen them in about a month or so. Drunk Assed Jamie...Drunk Assed Boss...Scott the Pill Popper...Mary the Lesbian...It was like a reunion of sorts except me and Eddie were the only ones who ever left there. They all work with each other day in and day out.

Nothing really earth-shattering to report from there. Eddie just wanted to see this Scott character because Scott's a bit out there. He takes a lot of illegal medication and gets pretty loopy at times. Apparently on Friday, Scott wanted to leave at 10 a.m. because his temperature was 102 degrees. The boss told him no, so he stayed until 12:30, left for lunch and never came back.

My kind of guy.


Andy was so funny on the way to daycare today. He was in the backseat, singing softly to himself. Just a "Aah, aaah, aaaah, ah, aaah, ahhhh" sound...real quiet. Then he'd punctuate it with loud screams "AAAAHAAAAAH, AAAAAAAA, AAAAAAHHHH" then he'd go back to quiet singing. He had me laughing so hard because it was so stupid and then that made him laugh. We got to daycare and I went around to his side of the van to get him out of his chair and when he looked at me he got the silliest grin on his face and went "AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAH AHHHHHHHHH" and we both laughed hysterically.

Maybe you had to be there. And maybe it doesn't sound like much.

But damn. It just made me love that little booger even more.


I've had a pretty busy day here. I've got five stories I'm currently working on simultaneously.

I like being busy. It sure beats sitting with my thumb up my butt and watching the clock tick.


Susie had to go back to work today after her little vacation.

I felt sorry for her. She really wants to stay at home with Andy all day, but not work out of the home because she doesn't have the willpower to force herself to work and plus...she has no idea what she could do out of the home.

Plus we need her income so we can continue living like Alabama royalty.

I was driving to work this morning and some ass on the radio was talking about how mothers should stay at home with their young children and that's what's wrong with kids today...their mothers didn't stay home with them when they were young.

He's an old guy who was saying this...Robert D. Rayford on the John Boy and Billy Show...it's syndicated here in the South.

The old man pissed me off with this. Sure...we could probably survive on my salary...but just barely.

And that's the problem with a lot of these old crotchety bastards. Their mothers stayed home and were housewives and because there was only one income coming in the house, they had to eat porridge and shoe leather growing up. And this made them pissed off at an early age, resenting everyone around them because they got sticks for Christmas. So they carried this chip on their shoulders all their lives and now they're old and crotchety and resentful of everyone.

Robert D. Rayford wants everything to be like it was when his ancient ass was growing up.

Sorry Rob...but dinosaurs are extinct now.

He wants the mother to stay at home, the father to earn all the money, the family to live in poverty and the whole family to be miserable and eating golf ball soup or some crap like that.

Times change, you old bastard. My son goes to daycare every day, plays with his friends, learns something (lately all he's learned is how to throw a temper tantrum) and comes home to be with his parents at the end of the day.

And he's wearing good clothes, eating healthy meals, playing with nice toys and getting the best health care.

Sure, it'd be great if I was making 90 grand and able to let Susie stay at home and glue her ass to the couch.

But that's not happening anytime soon.

Man.

Normally I like that Robert D. Rayford. But today he got under my skin.

The mean ol' cuss.


There's not much else to tell ya.

I'm sure somebody got bit by a shark this morning, but shark attacks are hardly news anymore...have you noticed that?

Some kid got bit by a shark this weekend and it was on page eight of my newspaper today. A month or two ago that'd be front page headlines. Today, the kid's an afterthought. I'd hate to be bit by a shark now. You're no longer a survivor, you're a dumbass.

I saw Mariah Carey is still nuts and has gone back to the Institution. Some of you may feel sorry for her, but it could be worse...she could be Aaaaayliyahhhh ... slaughtered by Samsonite.

Alright...enough tomfoolery.

I've gotta jet.

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