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5:25 a.m. - 2002-01-17

WAKING UP WITH YOUR FACE IN THE TOILET

You know you're going to be eating a faceful of shit all day when it's 5:15 a.m. and your day already sucks.

First off ... the boy crying at 3:59 a.m. He's got it in his thick little baby skull that as soon as he wakes up, EVERYBODY needs to get up.

Susie finally said "Go get him and bring him in here. He'll cuddle up to me and fall asleep."

Of course...this was at 4:46 a.m. after we let him scream for 47 minutes.

I did that, then left the two of them alone to do whatever the hell mother and son thing they do when I'm not there.

No, I don't wanna know.

I come to the computer and find out Disco is calling it quits because he's turned into an internet geek.

Disco isn't like other people who say they're leaving when what they're really saying is "PAY ATTENTION TO ME HERE!!! I'M SAYING THAT I'M QUITTING SO PEOPLE WILL SIT UP AND TAKE NOTICE OF MY WHINY HAIRY ASS WHEN I'M NOT REALLY QUITTING, I JUST WANT THE ATTENTION THAT I CRAVE BECAUSE I'M NOT AS HARSH AS I WOULD LEAD YOU TO BELIEVE!!! I'M A SENSITIVE LITTLE GIRLIE BOY WITH SPARKLY EYES AND ...AND...AND....that is all."

Which, for the f'n record ... you "quit" 30 entries ago as of this moment, dude.

When Disco says he's quitting, I believe he's quitting. Which is a shame for the Diaryland community, because the guy's really talented, really funny and entertaining, using his diary space to broaden the concept of "diary" to new levels.

So....THENNNNNN....after Disco's dignified withdrawal from Diaryland, I go to check out my favorite little girlie boy who has decided to become "Harsh Little Girlie Boy".

Cool. I like my girlie boys harsh.

But, to my dismay, horror, shock and horror (I'm tellin' ya...I was HORRIFIED!!) my girlie boy TURNED ON ME!!!

I know!

I mean...color me shocked.

And I got off EASY compared to the other people listed on his entry. But then again, I'm probably the only one who reads his site that he wrote about while the rest of them will never see it and he will continue being nice to their faces after writing it and they'll never know the difference.

To quote from this evil, hairy, girlie boy bastard of Satan:

"Uncle Bob. You are a middle aged fat guy who used to be funny, but who has now been ruined by the sedentary lifestyle of a father. Also, we don't care about your kid throwing up, or your dog's ass. Especially your dog's ass. Likewise we don't care about your days as a "cool" DJ at Barmitzvahs and teen age slumber parties."

And the worst part....HE DIDN'T EVEN LINK TO MY SITE!

I mean...slam me all you want, dude....BUT AT LEAST GIVE ME A LINK!

So...in my defense...I'm breaking the girlie boy's comments down and seeing how much of it is right.

I'm middle aged. Yeah, okay fine. But I don't feel like it. Except my ass. My ass feels middle aged. The rest of me feels like I'm ....oh...maybe 27 or so.

Fat. Yeah. I'm fat. But, to quote from one of my no-good, lazy assed $6,000-owing brother-in-law's favorite faded t-shirts that's thinner than a Kleenex...."I may be fat, but you're ugly and I can diet."

Nyah.

"I used to be funny". I'm still funny. It just comes in spurts. And I'm funnier in person than I am here. I SLAY them in church these days with my quick wit and impressionable charm.

Double nyah.

"Ruined by the sedentary lifestyle of a father". If anything, fatherhood has made me a much better man. Try it sometime. If you can get that pathetic excuse for a heat seeking moisture missile to stand at attention sometime. Here's a helpful tip...think of Lara Croft. That should give you a hard-on.

"We don't care about your kid throwing up or your dog's ass". Sorry Alfalfa. This is my diary. If you read it, there's a pretty good chance you're going to hear about MY LIFE. If my life revolves around cleaning baby vomit out of my hair or washing my geriatric dog's ass, that's what you get, Slim. Sorry I don't have the exciting lifestyle that you do being wrapped up in all those EXCITING AND MYSTIFYING role playing games on the internet, playing until dawn with your geeky internet friends who still live with their parents that you have shoved down your pathetic excuse for a fan base's throats. I've seen pictures of you, Man. You look older than 12. Act like it. Real men put down the joystick when they graduate from junior high, Senor Shithead.

"Likewise we don't care about your days as a "cool" DJ at Barmitzvahs and teen age slumber parties." As I have already rebutted on his message board, I've never attended a bar mitzvah in my life. And usually, when I mention my days as a "cool" deejay, it's to lead into a broader story. There's been maybe one entry when I talked about what a cool job the deejay gig was. As far as teenage slumber parties, I've discussed one teenage slumber party here...to relay the fact that I grew up with Greg Kinnear. Which is infinite worlds more exciting than reading your blow-by-blow descriptions of your evening playing "Diablo II" with Joey and Jimmy and Jerry and Johnny and Jerky and Fred who nobody likes because he has to be in bed by 10:00 because his parents are strict.

Sooooooo...after all that, I have one thing to say....

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I'm quitting this diary.

Yep. Why go on??

I mean....Gay Wayne thinks I suck.

And once that happens ... do you even have a reason to continue writing??

Let's face it ... this whole diary scam was all about one thing...to impress a sulky man that I will never meet face to face who is desperately clinging to his teenage years by playing internet games with teenagers (at least while his monitor keeps flickering), keeping his hair long and listening to the heaviest heavy metal he can find, and working at a movie theater so he can brag to all his 15 year-old friends about how many times he's seen "Harry Potter".

I am the John Hinckley to his Jodie Foster.

And if he's not impressed, why go on?

Why, I ask. Why?

With that, I bid you all a tearful adieu.

Adieu, adieu, adieu.

Wah, wah, waaaah.

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You know what?

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Fuck all that.

Gawain...grow the fuck up.

Me...get slimmer, funnier and younger.

Hug??

HUG!!

(Gawain and Uncle Bob hug as the dramatic music swells in the background and Gawain cups Uncle Bob's ass because he can't keep his mitts off such a fine ass for a 40 year-old. The scene is reminiscent of "Serendipity" which Gawain has seen 15 times now and has declared "the movie which makes him want to be a girl the most")

It's 5:50 a.m.

It's going to be a beautiful day.


And I'll go on record as saying I like the new harsh Gawain. Just don't piss off too many people or nobody will show up at your funeral,Popeye.


I'll also go on record as saying I can't believe I wasted everyone's time with this pitiful entry. My apologies. I had a great story about the idiots at Wendy's and news about my baby vomiting. Sadly, I quietly swept those under the rug for the time being.

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