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5:10 a.m. - 2002-05-06



The big news over the weekend was...of course...Grandma stayed true to her word and had $5,000 to give to us.

She's still $1,100 in the hole, but promised Susie that in 30 days, she would be giving us $1,500...$400 interest. Which isn't technically correct, but hey, we weren't expecting any interest and we'll take it.

Naturally, it was a little tough actually getting the money. Every time Susie called her on her cell phone, she was in transit from one place to the other and kept saying she'd call us when she was either in one place for a while and we could come meet her or on her way to our house.

Of course, she never called us. So it smelled a little fishy in Denmark to me.

Finally, at 5:00, Susie called her yet again and she said she was at their old house that should have been condemned while they were living in it. Susie told her we were on our way over there to pick up the check and she promised Susie she'd be there.

We threw Andrew in his car seat, fired up the Bobmobile and hauled ass to the other side of town before she got smart and hauled ass herself.

We get over there and she, my lousy white trash brother-in-law and their "friend" D.J. were sitting out on the porch.

As we pulled up, D.J. scurried into the house. An empty house. Just...scurried. Didn't wave, didn't stay outside to say hello...just...scurried.

Like a rat.

I don't like D.J. I haven't technically seen or spoken to him in years.

He's a "friend" to both my brother in law and my mother in law. I've often thought he was my brother in law's gay lover, since the guy hasn't had a date with a female since 1989 and lives with his mother. I'd rather think my brother in law was gay than just a complete and utter loser.

D.J. has lived with the two of them before in their cluttered fire traps for months at a time. Where he slept and who he slept with has never been discussed over Thanksgiving dinner, so it's still a mystery to us.

He doesn't come off as gay. Not one single bit. He did have a bandanna wrapped around his head when we pulled up, like Aunt Jemima. But he and my brother in law both...neither seems to show any actual gay traits. You'd expect that if they were actually gay, there'd be some sort of vibe they'd give off. And I have this incredibly keen sense of gaydar. It's kinda like how Spiderman has Spidey-Sense...I have Gay-Sense.

...And no. I'm NOT Gayman.

Although...a gay super hero would either be pretty cool or pretty funny depending on your sexual preference and/or sense of humor and political correctness.

Anyway, the reason I don't like D.J. other than he's a walking enigma is that he did something to Maggie when she was younger.

Nobody knows what because he was alone with her in the room I'm typing in now at the front of the house, while we were all in the back of the house. Whatever he did, she yelped and cried and came running to us and barked at him whenever he came near her.

Which was another reason I didn't want to give her to my in-laws a month or so ago. I knew D.J. would be around her and do stuff to her to traumatize her.

Anyway...we go over there...D.J. scurries off and the in-laws want to see Andrew because they haven't seen him in three weeks.

Susie's mom hands her an envelope. She thanks her and tells her she'll have the rest of the money in 30 days. Susie asks her (for me, since I was dying to know) where the money came from.

"Turning tricks and dealing drugs," her mom chuckled before abruptly changing the subject.

We hung out for about 10-15 minutes so they could soak up Andrew and we didn't look like we came over there specifically for the check, even though we did.

My's obvious why he hasn't got a woman if in fact he's really straight. He has a red goatee that comes down to his chest. It's big, bushy and extremely nasty. It's never been trimmed and is just a melange of stray whiskers going every which way. And he's completely bald. So he looks like a really bad local pro wrestler or a biker.

The t-shirt he was wearing was thin as a Kleenex from being so old and had holes as big as Andrew's head in it. He weighs about 275 lbs (all fat) and portions of his fat were coming through the holes in his dirty, filthy t-shirt.At one point, while he talked and I was wearing shades, I decided to count the holes in his shirt.

13 holes in the guy's shirt.

We finally had enough and drove off, with me trying to drive and bathe in hand sanitizer at the same time.

Susie said "This is cash, not a check."

"Count it!" I said, not trusting the woman.

There were 50 $100 bills in the envelope.

Now...where in the hell did my mother-in-law get $5,000 in cash?

We tried to think where she may have gotten it. Susie thinks that she finally found a scam that paid off.

I'm leaning more toward the fact that my brother-in-law works on computers at the local credit union. I'm not sure exactly what access he may have, but I think he may have hacked into his account and deposited five grand in there over the course of a few months or something.

Granted, I'm programmed to not believe that it was hard work and dilligent saving that brought this money about. There's something there that just doesn't gel for me.

Her Mom did thank us and told Susie that had it not been for us, they would have never been able to afford this house that they're living in now, because my brother in law's wages would have been garnished and that would have given them even worse credit. And our loan allowed them to build a decent credit report and get them on the road to social acceptance or some shit like that.

That's all fine and good. But where the hell did this money come from?

I don't think we'll ever know.

And I don't think we need to keep questioning it.

I know a lot of you want some pictures of the in-laws posted here.

This is kinda tough. I've never taken photos of them with the digital camera for a good reason. It's still kinda new and I don't want their images breaking the camera.


(Uncle Bob doubles over with fake laughter as his belly shakes like a bowlful of jelly).

Plus, I just don't know how to approach the subject. Do I walk up to them and say "Hey...I know I've never showed absolutely no interest in having photos of you two in the past, but dammit...I'm just DYING to get a picture of you guys for no real reason."

Although...a photo of my brother-in-law on Saturday would have been classic. I'll see what I can do as far as getting a photo of them.

But keep in mind...we don't really see them that often. Maybe once every 4-6 weeks and then just for a few minutes.

But I'll start trying to get a photo. I'll still feel like a wildlife photographer though, taking pictures of my brother-in-law while he's working or something and trying to be really casual about it.

I'm sure he'll think something's up.


I'll probably have to admit I have a crush on him or something and want these pictures for sexual purposes.

I'll go ahead and say it myself.


Once again...if you want more hits on your diary, type in "Lisa Lopes Autopsy Photos" somewhere on your page and I can GUARANTEE you that you'll get some extra hits today.

It really is extraordinary. I'm not sure who's looking for the photos, but when I checked my stats yesterday, probably a good 75% of the people who had come to look at my site yesterday came through the Google search for that phrase.

And yes, I'll be posting the Lisa Lopes Autopsy Photos tomorrow, for those of you who came here to see them.

So just come back tomorrow.

And bring a friend!

(Tee hee! Those Lisa Lopes Autopsy Photos people are SO DUMB!) people can snicker if you want...but check out my stats below...I've had over 800 hits before 10 a.m. today...over 200 hits in the last hour...all searching for Lisa Lopes Autopsy Photos. Don't think I haven't toyed with the idea of changing the name of this crap from "Uncle Bob's Diary of Chuckles" to "Grisly Lisa Lopes Autopsy Photos". Damn. Now I know how Cindy Margolis must feel.

I did a poopload of yard work yesterday, basically working in the yard from 1-7 p.m.

One thing's for skin tone is changing. Except for my legs. It takes an act of congress for my legs to tan. My arms, head, neck and chest (when I get the nerve to remove my shirt in the yard) all get sun nicely.

My legs still look like spindly white nerdy legs.

I hate my legs. I used to like them in high school. At one point in my life, I used to think that my most attractive feature were my calves.

That's all changed. My milky white calves are now the bane of my existence.

Damn you calves! Damn you straight to HELLLLL!!

I threw my back out lifting Andrew Saturday night.

And it still hurts this morning.

No semi-witty antedote about it. Just thought you might like to know.

Yesterday was my Mom's 60th birthday.

She's pissed at Dad because she wanted a car for her birthday and he didn't get her one.

I may have mentioned this before, but my Mom's weird. She's got some kind of nervous conditition where she HATES travelling, HATES driving, HATES leaving the house.

Dad pointed this out to her. He asked her why he should buy her a car if it's just going to sit in the garage.

Because she had no logical explanation as to why she should then get a car, she decided to just be pissed at him instead.

So I called her yesterday to wish her a happy birthday and she kept bringing up the fact that my Dad's an asshole for not buying her a car.

I refused to get into a fight with my mother over why she doesn't need a car and then try to explain to her that she's a fucking nutjob who needs to be on some sort of medication that would make her sociable and somewhat enjoyable to communicate with. But since it was her birthday, I refrained from telling her she was Looney tunes.

Mental illness runs in my family.

But then ... you probably figured that out months ago, huh?

Baby's crying, Mama's in the shower...gotta go.

Peace out.

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