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5:42 a.m. - 2001-04-13

THE TROLL LIVES!

Huzzah.

I figured out why I've been so damned tired lately last night ... I haven't had a nap since Sunday.

I need my fookin' naps in order to successfully maneuver my way through life.

Luckily, I have a job in which the 2:00 p.m. hour rolls around and I can say "I've gotta go do a story on the ballet, and then run over to the Cancer Society, so I probably won't be back in today."

Then I really run home, strip down to me skivvies, hop into bed and snore for an hour.

Well ... with all this Big Rat crap, I've been too busy to nap.

*sigh*

I can't wait for this Big Rat stuff to be done.

My life sucks.


Yesterday was a suck-ass mofoing day.

I had THREE THINGS donated to my silent auction dealio.

Two were restaurant gift certificates. The other was a Maid service for a month, which is pretty cool and should fetch some bucks from the lazy assed housewives who need a month off from making the freakin' beds and doing the dishes.

Lazy assed housewives.

Heh.

My wife will just DIE if she doesn't win that one. She'll be bidding like $7,000 for it.


I faced some ruuuuude bitches yesterday.

First was this guy at a tanning salon.

He was the owner, and when we (me and Drunk-Assed Jamie(TM))got there, he was in a tanning bed and wouldn't be out for another five minutes.

That's fine. We could wait five minutes.

He gets out of the tanning bed, steps out of his precious little room and the counter girl says "These two gentlemen are here to see you."

What's he say?

"Sorry guys, I'm wayyyy too busy to talk to anyone today."

WTF???

You just spent 30 minutes, laid out on your ass, sucking in those cancerous tanning rays so that your ugly ass can look all tan and then MAYBE other gay guys may find you a tad bit attractive ... DON'T FUCKING TELL ME YOU'RE TOO GODDAMNED BUSY!!!

That burned my ass...to a nice tanned crisp.

Obviously, the dipshit thought we were there to sell him something or take his money for some reason.

The prick.

I said "This won't take two minutes, I just need to run something by you."

"I don't have two minutes, it will throw me off track. I'm mentally geared to keep going."

Yep.

He said "Mentally geared to keep going."

Okay.

Let me get this straight.

I'm in a fucking TANNING SALON, right? All the beds are run by computerized timers so that nobody gets burned. All the timers are controlled by the girl at the counter. You're standing there in a pink tank top, shorts and sandals.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO BE MENTALLY GEARED FOR?

So I asked him, "When's a good time to come talk to you?"

"Tomorrow at 9".

Okay. This little bastard doesn't think I'll come back tomorrow at 9.

This tanning salon is a mile from my home.

I'm showing up at 9:01.

Just to give him one minute of thinking that I won't be there.

If he doesn't listen to me today, so help me God...I'm beating his ass.


Hey!

Do you like the Olive Garden?

WELL THEY FUCKING SUCK AS WELL!!!

We go to the Olive Garden and there's an evil little wart-infested troll guarding the Olive Garden.

Her employers call her a hostess. I call her an evil little wart-infested troll.

Jamie and I walk into this Taco Bell of Italian restaurants.

"Is your manager in?"

"Whatever it is, he's not interested," the troll grunted.

Luckily for me, a nicer employee was standing there.

"What do you need?" she asked with a smile. I have a feeling if the troll had smiled, we would have been subjected to a mouthful of broken teeth and a forked tongue.

I explained to her about Hit Night, how we'll be dressed as gangsters and "rob" the customers for the American Cancer Society.

I got to the part of the spiel that said "We'll hang a poster up to let your customers know that it's not a real robbery."

I got the words "We'll hang a poster up to...." out of my mouth.

The troll grunted "THEY WON'T LET US HANG POSTERS HERE!"

The troll thought she had won.

I turned to the troll. I was sick of the troll's attitude. I said "Fine. We won't hang posters up then."

The troll smirked. Then I'd swear she farted, but I can't say for sure. She certainly stunk, that's for sure.

The nice girl went to get the manager.

The manager came out and said she was down from Huntsville for the day and wasn't the actual store manager and we'd have to come back the next day to talk to him.

Fiiiiiiiine.

The troll smelled victory. Although, it could have just as easily been her ass that she smelled. She was a confused and gassy little troll.

I said I'd be back today to talk to the manager.

So help me God...I'm doing everything in my power to get the Olive Garden included in my Hit Night promotion.

Just to spite that fucking troll.

God.

I hate trolls.


I'm really getting myself fired up talking about those two assholes.

I need to move onto something else.


I need to look on the positive side of things.

I now have all 18 holes in the golf tournament sponsored.

I now have 11 restaurants committed to Hit Night. I originally said I wanted between 10-15, so I've met my goal.

I now have close to 50 items to be included in the Silent Auction.

I could easily stop right now and rest on my laurels.

Uh-uh.

I wanna WIN this bitch!!

I still wanna get a cruise.

I wanna get the Olive Garden included so I can piss all over that troll on Hit Night and apologize, telling her I thought she was a urinal.

I want that bastard at the tanning salon to say "YES!! I WANT $260 WORTH OF FREE ADVERTISING IN EXCHANGE FOR LETTING SOME WINNER COME IN AND TAN FOR A MONTH!!"

And then I want to think for a second when he agrees to do it and say "I don't think I want to do this with you. I'm going to your competition instead."

And I want to see a tear roll down this tanned fucker's face.

THEN I will be redeemed.


I'm a spiteful old fucker today, eh?


Y'know...I had a feeling Amber would be the next to go off of "Survivor".

So why was I so shocked when it happened?

Her teammates turned on her?

I dunno.

I say Keith goes next.

Then Tina.

Then Rodger.

Leaving Colby and Elizabeth.

And Elizabeth wins the million dollars.

Elizabeth puts on a little weight, getting back up to 98 lbs. and marries me because I'm a witty bitch and have a beautiful son who just lost his mother in a bizarre accident where her brake lines had been mysteriously cut in her mini van. Then Elizabeth gives me $500,000 to win this freakin' contest and I tell everyone to kiss my ass, AH'M THE BIGGEST RAT BITCH IN TOWWWWWWN!!!!

Yeah.

That's the ticket.


That's it, kids.

I've vented enough.

Time to go be Mr. Nice Guy, play with the kid and go smile my ass off in various businesses all day.

Adios, amigos.

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