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5:17 a.m. - 2002-04-29


So we go to church yesterday and once the service starts, it hits me...Rev. Brian won't be here today.

I love Rev. Brian. He's my reason for going to church. His sermons make me laugh, make me think, make me wanna run back here, sit in this chair and type out diary entries free of curse words.

That's why my Sunday morning entries are so vulgar sometimes. Because it's been a week without my Rev. Brian fix and I've strayed. I've forgotten what it's like to be good and clean and pure.

Yeah. That's why.

So anyway, we've got this couple preaching...kinda.

The couple are members of the church. Very sweet, very loving people.

VERY sweet.

TOO damned sweet.

That's what I like about Rev. Brian. He's not TOO sweet. He watches "Oz" faithfully. He's a fan of "Pulp Fiction". He curses occasionally and drinks beer a lot. I don't think he molests little boys since there's not a drop of Catholic blood in his body, but if he did I'd probably say the little boys were asking for it because they were all dressed up in tight pants and suggestive shirts or something.

Fine. I'm going to hell. I know. But at least I'm TRYING to redeem myself for the things I type here.

Anyway...the guy's cool.

Whereas the couple preaching yesterday? Nice...but not cool.

Their idea of a sermon was to talk about Earth Day or something. Earth Day took place a few weeks ago I think. I'm not really sure. If I don't get the day off from work, I tend to not really remember where holidays may fall.

The wife of this couple is an aspiring writer. She's published one book, but it was a local publishing company like "Joe's Books" or something and had a cover with a pencil drawing of a mother and daughter. And inside was all this gobbledygook about love. And a lot of it was in poetry form which really heebs me out sometimes.

So the wife has written three different poems for the day, which the husband lets her read proudly.


It took every ounce of willpower I could muster to not stand up and scream "THIS IS COMPLETE AND UTTER BULLSHIT AND YOU PEOPLE DON'T REALIZE IT!!!"

The first poem was about a tree in the forest named Lulyloo.

Pronounced "Loo-Lee-Loo".

The first few lines, although I didn't exactly commit them to memory, went something like this.

"Lulyloo was a tree,

A friend to you and me.

A tree, a tree, you see

A tree for you and me.

Lulyloo lived in the forest.

As big as a rhinosaurus.

I'm about to sing the chorus.

Big Lulyloo in the forest."

The poem sounded like Dr. Seuss with writer's block.

As a professional writer, the poem offended me. I looked around the congregation and people were listening to her read her poem, fascinated and hanging on every word.

Which made me even more upset. These people wouldn't know a decent poem if it poked them in the eye. Which decent poems are known to do on occasion.

This poem went on for five minutes. The gist of the thing was that all the animals in the forest took care of the tree (at least...this was Susie's interpretation of it. I quit listening after the lines I quoted above were read proudly).

She then read another poem about animals in the forest and what they do there. Like the "hare" (God forbid you call the damned thing a "rabbit" many words rhyme with rabbit other than "dangnabbit"?) and the Eagle (with his friend...the Beagle).

I fought the urge to put my head between my knees and retch loudly while she read her poem.

The third poem? It was actually a song that the whole congregation sang. It was to the tune of one of the hymns we sing a lot, so everyone knew how it went, but she had changed the words to it.

She's basically the Weird Al Yankovic of the church.

Except Weird Al runs circles around her when it comes to talent.

And regardless of what you're thinking, that's NOT a good thing.

I wanted to cook something different last night.

I found a recipe in our church cookbook for "Shrimp and Mushroom Alfredo".

I cooked it.

As I said while we were eating it "If this dish just had a little more flavor to it, it might actually be bland".


Senior citizens would be complaining about the blandness of this dish.

I think next Sunday, I'm going to walk up to the woman who submitted the recipe to the cookbook, smile and then punch her square in the gut.

And say something like "THAT'S for submitting such a shitty dish to that cookbook. What? Did you think we were supposed to submit JOKE recipes?"


That reminds me...I bought a book by Penn and Teller a few years back that had this recipe for the best cake ever. The recipe called for baking soda and something else...the other ingredient escapes me at the moment. But when you mixed the two ingredients together, the whole thing foams up and spills out all over the counter. It's like what we used to do in science class.

I'm submitting that recipe to next year's cookbook just for kicks.

I don't think they can throw me out of the church for that, can they?

We watched "Swimming With Sharks" last night because Susie wanted to watch a movie and that one was coming on just as she announced her wishes.


What a messed-up movie.

This guy has the boss from Hell (Kevin Spacey), who he decides to take hostage and torture, just like this boss did to him only verbally. And occasionally physically. He gives him paper cuts on his face and then pours tabasco sauce on them and rubs salt in them and stuff.

Evil Boss Wendigo...beware.

Don't mess with me today, woman. I've got a whole new bag of tricks up my sleeve now.

Today's my favorite niece's birthday.

I only have two of them, and they're both 17. Well...the one turns 17 today. The other one's almost 18.

Anyway, this is my sister's daughter. And such a sweet girl.

Very pretty too. She's a dancer, does ballet and modern jazz.

She was a model as a young child. Her claim to fame was she was in the running for the role of the little girl in the movie "Three Men and a Little Lady" or whatever the hell the sequel to "Three Men And A Baby" was.

Not like that's really a "claim to fame". Maybe a "claim to shame". But's all we have going for us in this family.

Anyway, it's her birthday. I sent her a card and a check and told her that I remember the day she was born.

Which I do.

I was dating a girl named Lana and we drove to the hospital in Nashville, getting there just minutes before my sister went into the delivery room.

My sister was in the delivery room for like 30 minutes max. Came out, gave us all a thumbs up and said "Piece of cake", which cracked us up, since my sister was the biggest wuss when it came to pain.

Epidural, kids. The strongest drugs imaginable.

On the way back home, Lana and I pulled over at a rest area and had sex on a picnic table because the spring weather was so inviting.

I sure miss that girl sometimes.

That's it for me. I successfully avoided Nosy Assed Neighbor yesterday. With my peripheal vision, I saw her coming outside to tell me that I needed to replace our driveway and hauled ass back inside before she could utter a word. Once inside, I screamed "Boooyahhhh!" waking the kid up from his nap.

This coming Friday is the day that Grandma is supposed to be giving us five grand that "somebody" owes her. She's managed to stay very low on the radar ... we haven't heard a peep out of her in two weeks now. Not since she severely traumatized our dog. We haven't even told her that she's not getting the dog back. I think she thinks that once they finally get moved into their new home, we'll be bringing the dog back to them so they can torture her some more for kicks.

Kind of a "Swimming With Sharks" for pets.

No thanks, Granny. Just hand over the money and nobody gets hurt.

Sadly, I think a week from today we'll just have yet another excuse as to why "somebody" didn't come through for her.

This time though...we're ready.

Gotta go. Got a house to clean up so some scumbag realtors can pretend they're coming over to look at it and then not show up.

Fucking scumbag realtors.

Peace out!

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