THE RETURN OF THE THREE DOLLAR WHORE

The Yard Sale is officially over.

And I'm as sore as a three dollar whore.

I was originally thinking "four dollar whore". I woulda never gone "five dollar whore" because even though they're sore...they're not as sore as a "four dollar whore".

But damnation. A "three dollar whore"...

...THAT, my fair-weathered friend, is sore.

Let's see...lotsa catching up to do ... and as long winded as I can be, we may as well get off the whores and onto the stories.

Friday was spent carrying box after box from my workshop (which I used to call "cottage" in previous entries, but someone corrected me on it yesterday..."it's a fucking workshop, you idiot--not a cottage").

By the time I was done, half of my back yard was full of boxes of crap.

That left me as sore as a seven dollar whore. Not too sore, but I knew I had been fucked.

I drove around Friday night, hanging up signs on as many street corners as I could get to for the yard sale. I scared the shit out of one lady as I pulled up in front of her house and she saw a hammer in my hand. I think she thought I was coming to bash her brains in.

Mainly because she screamed "PLEASE DON'T BASH MY BRAINS IN WITH THAT HAMMER."

I assured her I was only hanging yard sale signs up. She was thankful and then we had sex in her front yard.

Okay...we didn't really. I just wanted to live up to my rep as being "obsessed with sex".

My niece Melissa, 15, and nephew Adam,12, spent the night with us Friday night. These two are fairly decent kids...not too much trouble.

I told everyone we were getting up at 3 a.m. to start carrying stuff out into the front yard. They agreed that wouldn't be a problem and everyone went to bed at 10 p.m.

I woke up at 2 a.m. and couldn't get back to sleep so....

CHANGE OF PLANS, KIDS!! LET'S GET AN HOUR'S HEAD START!!!

Needless to say...ol' Uncle Bob wasn't the most popular Uncle in their eyes.

I actually fed the kids ice cream at 2:30 a.m. for breakfast. In my confused state, I thought ice cream would give them intense sugar buzzes in the middle of the night and they'd be carrying televisions on their backs to the front yard.

It gave them sugar buzzes alright. But I ended up carrying all the heavy shit.

While carrying one buffet table to the front yard, I cut my finger.

Scratch that...I slashed my finger wide fucking open.

The blood would NOT quit flowing and I was getting it on everything.

I got blood on a small crucifix that I was putting out on a table and told Susie to mark the crucifix up from 25 cents to 50 dollars and to put a sticker on it saying "Authentic blood of Christ".

She didn't see the humor.

Finally, at 5 a.m., as the sun began to rise, the cars started coming.

When you have a yard sale, all the good stuff is gone by the time the yard sale officially starts due to "early birds". But early birds never try to nickle and dime ya down either. They understand that because we're allowing them access to the sale early, they're going to pay full price.

So by 6 a.m., our stuff had been picked over.

But we had made $230.

Apparently we were the only people having a decent yard sale in town.

Because EVERY SINGLE WHITE TRASH MOM AND HER KIDS IN TOWN showed up in our front yard.

We had cars stretching all the way down the street. At one point I counted and we had 47 strangers in our driveway.

TONS of people.

I told people if it wasn't marked, I'd only charge you a quarter for stuff.

And there was a TON of stuff not marked.

But those quarters added up, babe.

I was in full Uncle Bob mode for the sale. If people asked me how much something was, my pat answer was "one hundred and seventy-five dollars".

Then I'd stare at their face with a blank look on my face for five seconds as they thought I was nuts. Then I'd let out a very loud, very fake laugh and say "Just kidding. Gimme a quarter."

AND THEY WOULD!!!

Anyway...long story short....we made $1,115.

My goal was a thousand bucks. I didn't think that was an unreasonable goal. We had THOUSANDS of things for sale.

And we had quite a few people tell us we had the best yard sale that they had been to all day. One lady said she was at another yard sale, and some people told her to come to our sale because it was the best.

Whooohoooo!!!

(Bob pumps his fist lazily in the air).

I had called Goodwill earlier in the week to arrange for them to come by and pick up anything that wasn't sold.

Goodwill took thousands of items with them. Thousands. The two guys on the truck said they had NEVER picked up so much stuff from the remains of a yard sale.

Yet, we SOLD just as much stuff as we gave to Goodwill.

One more thing...if you're having a yard sale, arrange for Goodwill to come get your crap at the end. It's a great cause, and it saves you from filling your house back up with shit you didn't want in the first place.

Plus, they give you a blank receipt that lets YOU decide the worth of everything that you donated.

Can you say $10,000???

(I can't WAIT for tax time next year!!)

Oh ... heh...my little 12-year-old nephew Adam comes to me early on in the sale and asks if he can go inside and play on the internet.

Sure buddy. You've worked hard...go have fun.

Now...everytime he wants to get on the Internet he spends hours at the Pokemon site and the Nintendo site.

That's while UNCLE BOB is around.

Apparently...when I'm NOT around...ol' Adam has other plans.

He came outside a few hours later and asked if he could play Play Station.

Sure buddy. Did you disconnect the Internet?

"Yes, Uncle Bob."

Well...ever since I got this new computer, I have to unplug the phone cord from the wall. Long story, don't feel like going into it.

So I come back to the computer room to make sure he's all logged off.

He wasn't.

So I unplugged the cord from the wall and started shutting down windows on the monitor.

1 window...2 windows....OHMIGOD!!!!

There was a lady sucking one of the biggest honkers I've ever seen.

In full color.

Now...I never want to hear Uncle Bob ain't cool. I closed the window that was an ode to cocksucking and walked back out to the den where my nephew was engaged in a Play Station game.

"You forgot to shut down the porno windows," I casually mentioned to this 12 year old.

His face went white.

I went back outside, waited for his sister to walk away, and then hurriedly told the story of our little nephew the perv to Susie. We both decided it'd be best not to tell his parents and leave it at that.

The last hour of the sale, I had a very uncomfortable feeling.

A ...not-so-fresh feeling.

As it turns out...ol' Uncle Bob....

ahem...

Do you really want to know this??

Aw fuck it. We're like family, me and you. I can tell you this shit.

....I had a heat rash on my balls.

So I could BARELY freakin' walk without looking like a bowlegged cowboy. You coulda put a yard stick between my knees as I walked into the house.

Best thing for testicular heat rash....ointment.

Worse thing for testicular heat rash...sunburn cream with aloe. Because you're NOT sunburned. And something in that shit BURNS YOUR BALLS LIKE CRAZY!

I was running around like Daffy Duck, screaming and laughing.

Well...I SAY "running around". I was actually lumbering around like Frankenstein taking his first steps.

Today (thank GOD) the heat rash is gone and El Balls-o are back to their delicate pink sheen.

My neck and face are beet red. I look like Darth Maul in "Star Wars" minus all that crazy black shit on his face.

My legs, arms and back feel like I've been run over. As long as I'm sitting down, it's only my neck that burns. But when I stand up, it's EVERYTHING.

Oh...when we got back into the house after the sale, my nephew asks if he can get on the internet.

I grinned and said no.

"Why," he asked.

"You know why," I replied.

"Why," he pressured.

"Do you REALLY want me to tell you why in front of all these people," I asked, gesturing to the roomful of our friends and family.

He understood and went and sat down.

Heh. Little fuckin' perv.

We both passed out yesterday afternoon for about three hours. Got up and watched "Arlington Road" on HBO which was okay, but I fell asleep for about 15 minutes in the middle of the movie, and apparently they were the crucial 15 minutes in the film because I had no idea what was going on after that.

But it's all over now.

The yard sale, you buffoon...not the movie.

There's so much more I could tell you if I had the energy. Like my ignorant fucking brother-in-law, who helped us take the buffet tables that we had used back to the church. He tackles every physical project like a bull in a china shop, with the end result usually being him breaking something.

Yesterday, he carried a table in BY HIMSELF, even though I was there to help him, and SMASHED a fluorescent light in the ceiling.

It was damned near impossible for anyone to do such a thing. But this idiot did it. Glass and little particles went EVERYWHERE inside the church, so we had to stop for 15 minutes and pick up the remains of the light while he stood there NEVER APOLOGIZING or showing any remorse.

I guess my utter disgust for the guy will never be registered fully in this diary. You just have to meet the sorry bastard to understand where I'm coming from with this loser.

I've babbled enough and I doubt many of you made it this far. Today's going to be the most lazy day I've had in weeks. I think I'm going to go and alphabetize the few hundred CDs I have left and soak myself in Ben Gay.

Ben Gay??

Yup. Ben Gay for years.

Heh. I always loved that joke.