THAT ONE WHERE UNCLE BOB WATCHES WAY TOO MUCH TV ON A SUNDAY

(Uncle Bob dances into the room, does one of them there fancy ballet spins called a "pirouhette" or somethin', tosses his top hat onto a coat rack, glides gracefully across the floor, lands on one knee directly in front of you, grabs your hand delicately in his, kisses it, grins and says "How do you do?")

Can you tell I'm beginning to feel better?

I guess five days of intense resting, antibiotics and a jar of Vicks Vapor Rub smeared all over my chest, neck and upper lip will do that to a boy.

Granted ... I'M STILL SICK ...

achoo

Sooooo...let's see...me, me, me...

I've gotta go back to the chiropractor today. Sure...I have an appointment...but I've also started hurting a bit too. I'll be honest with you guys (but not him)...I haven't been doing what I was supposed to do, and that's put an ice pack on my upper back every hour on the hour for 30 minutes.

I mean ... it sounds easy, right? Every hour, get up, walk to the freezer, pull out an ice pack, balance it between your shoulder blades, and go about your day.

Well guess what, Mr. "Sure Sounds Easy To Me"???

IT AIN'T.

Let's say you're ... ohhhh... updating your online diary ... and it comes up on 6 a.m. You're detailing a very important fact about yourself like...ummmm...like you have to go to the chiropractor today for instance.

The next thing you know...it's 6:30 a.m. You forgot your ice pack.

So you wait until 7 a.m. But at 7 a.m., you're out strolling the streets, watching your dog take a dump in someone's front yard and praying that the owners don't happen to walk out and catch her dumping and you standing by nonchalantly like you didn't notice your dog taking a steaming crap in their yard.

It could happen.

Or you're out grocery shopping at 3 p.m., and the store manager frowns upon you sticking bags of frozen peas down the back of your shirt.

It could happen.

So...you know...this whole damned ice pack thing...well...it just don't fly for me.

I DID do it every time I remembered to, and that should count for something.

Unfortunately ... it doesn't.

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Soooo...how 'bout that Super Bowl???

I had no real interest in watching it ... but I was going to watch Survivor 2 and I love seeing all the new commercials ... so we watched it.

Actually ... I watched the three hour "pre-game" festivities which really helps the Super Bowl-deficient.

For instance ... I didn't know that the Giants QB was an alcoholic racist who was tossed out of the sport three years ago.

I didn't know one of their running backs proposed to actress Angie Harmon on the Tonight Show.

I didn't know former Chicago Bear Jim McMahon looked like a homeless guy now.

So...you know...that whole damned pre-game show really helped me understand the game yesterday.

The game itself was boring to me except when three touchdowns were scored in 36 seconds. Other than that...Snoozeville.

My favorite commercial???

C'mon...who could NOT love the Budweiser "What are YOU doing?" commercial.

For those that didn't see it ... I'm sure you've either seen or heard about the "Wassup???" commercials by now with the black guys all saying "Wassup???" on the phone.

This one was all stuffy white guys saying "What are YOU doing???" and being off the wall Caucasian. At the end of the commercial, two black guys are shown sitting on a couch, watching the commercial and just staring at each other like "WTF?"

It made me chuckle anyway...

I watched the decline of rock and roll at halftime as Aerosmith shared the stage with 'N Sync on the song "Walk This Way".

Jeezum Crow. I KNOW there's a few Sync fans reading this. So I'll try to be reader-sensitive here.

Those boys aren't going to be around in five years. Trust me. They're the flavor of the month. Their only talent is their gleaming smiles (except for the fat old Syncer ...the one that wears big denim jackets to hide his pot belly ... he's too COOL to smile)

And Britney Spears??? My God ... which pimp did she just crawl out from under? Sweetheart ... you're what? 18? 19? Put some freakin' clothes on, get your ass in college and give up the pipe dreams of being the next Madonna.

And if you can't do that, give Debbie Gibson a call. Maybe she can talk some sense into you.

Nelly??

Hey Nelly ... they've got a cream for your condition. Just ask your local pharmacist, "What do you recommend for jock itch?" He'll point you in the proper direction.

Christ, that boy was gripping his man-tool like it was about to fall off. And OF COURSE, MTV's cameras were positioned perfectly to catch the guy latching on to it like it was nobody's business. Yet, it suddenly became a billion people's business.

Now then ... "Survivor 2" ... and I ain't talking about the Diaryland phenomenon that's sweeping the land by storm ...

My initial fears about the show have already been answered. ALL of these new Survivors have seen the old Survivor, so it's like they're the understudies filling in for the big names at the local high school play.

You've got your "Rudy" in the old farmer guy, Roger. How in God's name this old coot made it past the first episode is beyond me. He's too nice of a guy and like the "Rich" guy (Michael ...my prediction for the ultimate survivor) said "Nobody over 50 should be here. They suck at the physical challenges."

Amen, brother.

I was kinda shocked that the "Sue" character got knocked off the first episode. Shit. She was too. Out of the eight people that could have been eliminated, there were about five more worthy of being tossed than she was.

Hell, the guy that can't stop puking and bitching got to stay. I bet he's tickled shitless.

"Oh great! I get to vomit for three more days!!"

I'll give the new Survivor credit ... they've at least got some hotter women this go-round. Last time we had Jenna and Colleen. This time, there's about five women that'd have to be wearing steel underwear out there if I was part of the game.

Including the old woman, Mad Dog. Mmmmrowwwwr!! You can train me anytime, Mad Dog!

...Not really. She looks like she's never touched a penis in her life. I'd probably be wrestling her ass to get to the bartender from Long Island.

You know ... the one who said she needs to find a secluded place to go and masturbate as well as admitted she'd had a threesome.

Yeah, that one.

(Uncle Bob rubs his hands together and grins wickedly)

So ... who's going to win the big showdown between "Friends" and "Survivor 2"???

I'm not sure.

All I know is ... Jennifer Anniston never bitched that she couldn't find a place to masturbate.

My money's on "Survivor".

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Take care, have a great day, if your diary's missing from my Army, it's because you've been KICKED OUT for either not updating or password protecting the bitch. If ya wanna plead yer case...email me.

Over and out.