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8:38 a.m. - 2002-07-29


Oh man...

So last night we went to this concert downtown with Rev. Brian and his family.

It was an outdoor thing, something the local jazz Federation puts on. It was live zydeco music...which is the best music to listen to live.

The lady's name was Rosie Ledet who played the concert. Here's a pic I took of her and her ummmm...washboard player. Or whatever they call those guys.


And drunk. drunk with Rev. Brian last night.

I found the most sissified liquor imaginable Saturday night in the liquor store.

It's a blended drink called "Strawberry Shortcake" and it's made by T.G.I. Friday's.

It's vodka, rum and some strawberry flavored liquor. And it's available at your finer liquor stores and Mexican supermarkets.

And I'll tell you what ... it made me feel like a cute little girl with no inhibitions and nice frilly panties.

I had about four of those and then switched over to the other sissy drink that we brought along...malibu rum and fruit juice.'s hot as hell here in late July. The humidity level alone is at 130%. It's H-O-T, I'm a' tellin' ya.

So I wanted to drink something other than beer outside.

And these drinks did the trick.

The highlight of the evening was watching Rev. Brian lose his inhibitions after one Strawberry Shortcake and dance with his wife and two year-old son at the same time.

If you've never watched a loopy man of the cloth get funky in a park ... darlin' ain't lived.

Naturally, I'm paying for it this morning. Too many sissy drinks for a guy that doesn't drink equals headache and nausea on a Monday morning.

I did run into my old buddy Dick down there. "Dick" isn't the guy's real name...he's just a dick and that's what I refer to him as.

Anyway, Dick finally had some use for me. He's got some friends that own a local publishing company and he's been talking to them about me.

Apparently, they remember me from my slightly higher profile job as a newspaper columnist and enjoyed my columns when I wasn't filling them full of sexual innuendos and gross descriptions of my dog's cancer-infested anal sacs.

So Dick asked me if I'd be interested in tossing together several old columns and publishing a book entitled "Uncle Bob's Stories of Sage Advice, Pubic Lice and Nothing Nice".

Or something like that.

Personally, I like the title "How To Make Millions of Dollars By Doing Absofuckinlutely Nothing".

So he's supposed to call me in the next few weeks ("or you call me"....yeah...fat chance on that one happening, Dick) and introduce me to these people.

So there may be a chance that you guys get to buy a whole book of my stuff soon.

I wouldn't count on it, if I were you.

Don't grab your Christmas list and start writing down "Uncle Bob's book" next to every name on the list.

And if you've got a lot of eggs sitting around in your living room, don't say "I've got 165 chickens!" because you shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch.

But it could happen.

If it does happen, I'll be talking about it quite a bit here.

If it doesn't happen, I'll probably never mention it again.

So I'm hooked on this show on MTV called "Sorority Life".

I was just stumbling through the stations the other day and came upon it. I watched five minutes of it and was hooked. Luckily, it was a mini-marathon of the show or something.

I don't know much about the show except it's a reality show and there's a certain amount of girls who are trying to get into a sorority. It's either four girls or 14. I have no idea.

But the show centers around four girls. There's Candace...the down-to-earth hottie. Jordan ... the uppitty hottie who has been "hurt" in the past and won't be hurt again. There's their brunette friend whose name I never got. She has a really weird smile like her teeth cave inward or she's undergone several sessions of electroshock therapy or something. Then there's this other girl who's a real goody-goody and looks to be half Mexican or something. I don't think they ever mentioned her name either. It's clear that Candace and Jordan are the stars because the camera is on one or the other 90 percent of the time.

Anyway... these four gals are trying to get in some sorority and they're slowly finding out just what kind of cruel bitches set up habitat in sorority houses. I mean...these gals are so vicious, they had JORDAN crying, and Jordan is like the ice queen....NOBODY makes her cry. She's tough as nails and doesn't take no shit, buster.

But she was boo-hoo-hooing when these sorority girls were done with her.

So then Jordan's all ... "Why do I want to be part of a group of girls that hate me?"

My sentiments exactly, Jordo. And I'm willing to bet that had you not signed that contract with MTV that stated you would continue to be savagely humiliated by these gals week in and week out, you woulda quit weeks ago.

Anyway...tonight's the newest episode at 10:30 est. And of the gals SLAPS another gal and they call up the president of the sorority to TELL ON THEM!!!

Now, you see.....THIS is captivating television!!

Fourteen sorority girls under one roof having sleepovers and doing crafts and jumping into bed with each other to drunkenly giggle for the cameras.

It's an amazing show.

And of course, the most amazing thing about the show is I watched nearly two hours of it alone on a Saturday afternoon and never ONCE touched myself.

So the in-laws are back in Texas once again, having left Saturday morning.

We went to Grandma's on Friday night for the traditional "Everyone Go To Grandma's And Eat Really Shitty Food And Then Crowd Around A Television That Doesn't Have Cable And Watch A Rerun Of David Copperfield's Last TV Special While Not Socializing" get-together.

I'm beginning to think my nephews have found this site or something.

Because they would NOT speak to me on Friday night.

It's no skin off my back. But it does make it less awkward if they're talking to me while humping my knees. The cold shoulder routine while they grind their nuts into my shin gets old really quick.

Okay, I'm kidding. They weren't humping my knees. BUT...they weren't speaking to me either.

It's kinda weird. I burned the two oldest nephews CDs of stuff they told me they wanted. I gave those to their mother on Wednesday night. I didn't see any of them until Friday night. The boys didn't thank me for the discs...didn't even mention getting them.

Then again, I wrote "Songs That Will Guarantee You Some Serious Snatch-ola" on the CD labels. So there's a possibility that their Mom didn't give them the discs. She's a party pooper when it comes to her kids knocking up local gals.

Anyway, we said our goodbyes and hauled ass so I could vomit up the chicken and rice on the side of the road.

I've never eaten baked cat...but I could swear that the meat in the dish was NOT chicken.

I have now been granted my #1 wish by my wife of never having to eat my mother-in-law's cooking again.

There is a God.

The walls in our new home have now been sheetrocked/drywalled/whatever you wanna call it.

Basically, we now have walls in our home. And that's too coo', because when the walls are sheetrocked, that means we're exactly eight weeks away from moving in.

So late September, we'll be in the house.

I'd like to invent a word to describe exactly how I feel about this.

And that word is "Awksome".

It's like awesome with a "K" in there.

Feel free to use it in your own various social situations and then stand back and soak in the awe that your peers will shower you with as you have added a new hip word to their vocabulary.

Or not.

On Friday, I sat around my hotel room waiting for my interview to conduct which wasn't until 1:30.

I took a picture from outside my window as the sun came up over the Gulf of Mexico. As you can tell by the cars in the parking lot...there were still lots of people in the casino, gambling away their paychecks.

I got bored so I checked out early, got in the car and decided to do some sightseeing.

Here's two old hippies that were crossing the street in front of me at a red light on the way to the beach. The woman had an old faded tattoo that took up her whole shoulder. She was easily in her 50s. It made me wonder how proud her grandkids must be of her.

This is a picture of one of those tacky beach souvenir shops. You actually have to walk into the shark's mouth in order to get in the store. I think they need to get that little eight year-old boy who had his arm ripped off by a shark last summer to serve as their spokesman. He could have some cute little line like "Jesus God Almighty....PLEASE DON'T LET HIM EAT ME!!" in the commercial or something. I think it'd be cute.

This is some restaurant that had a big assed mean-looking lobster on top of it. I've never eaten in a restaurant that had a big fiberglass lobster on top of it. Had I been hungry, you can bet your ass I would have given it a shot. Yep. Believe you me, pardner. I woulda been all up in that lobster, showing him who's boss, dammit.

I took more pix...but I'm out of room on my Gold Membership account, so I've gotta clean out my photo stuff.

And plus...c'mon...if I'm sharing photos of giant fiberglass lobsters ... just how good can the rest of the photos be anyway?

Me thinkum ... lame-o.

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