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8:26 a.m. - 2002-08-06


I have really gotten in the habit lately of having to pee but being too lazy to get up to go to the bathroom. So I end up holding it until just moments before I have an accident.

I know this can’t be good for my bladder. But damn … I guess I’ve just finally reached a stage of being that damned lazy … where I’d rather take a chance at doing irreparable harm to my internal organs and risk ruining clothes and furniture rather than get up and walk to the bathroom.

For those of you who need to stay up-to-date on me and my bladder, I suggest returning back here every day to find out where I stand.

BESIDES in front of the toilet.


Oh man…that was RICH!!


Don’t forget…tonight is the season finale of “The Mole”, the only show worth watching this summer.

If Bill is the Mole, I get two days off from updating my diary and you will get the almighty curvy round goddess Weetabix filling in for me.

However, if Heather’s The Mole, I have to write not only my diary entries, but Weeter’s too for two days.

If Dorothy’s The Mole, we both receive a reprieve, but that’s not going to happen because Dorothy is SOOOO not the Mole.

So watch tonight and have the insider’s track on whether or not I get a few days off from entertaining you kids or if I have to pull double duty and crank out my own swill and two entries worthy of being part of Weetabix’s diary.

I am now the official webmaster of my church’s website.

Seriously…how messed up is that?!?

With Rev. Brian leaving and an old, decrepit pastor taking his place in the interim before we find a decent pastor, Brian has asked me to take over webmaster duties.


The guy who makes a habit of referring to the blood of Christ as “Welch’s Finest Grape Juice” has control over a religious website.

Somewhere…Jesus is rolling in his grave.

Oh…you know what I mean. Sheesh.

Oh…for the time being, I’m NOT adding new names to the Army list.

The list is full once again and I need to get in there and clean out the people that haven’t updated in two months or more.

I’ll let you know when I reach that point.


I will.

I was driving home from work yesterday and was sitting in traffic, you know…just minding my own business, listening to some tunes, mouthing “You Suck” to all the other drivers, when I notice this guy in the car behind me.

He’s on the cell phone, picking his nose with his pinky.

And it made me think…why in the world do people pick their noses with their pinkies?

Maybe their index fingers are swollen and huge. That’s the only thing I can think of.

But isn’t the pinky like…the dainty finger? I mean…if you ask me…I don’t think the pinky should be forced to have to do any dirty work. The pinky is what you hold out when you are drinking tea. It’s the little feminine finger.

And this guy was using the little dainty finger to clean out the snot globs out of his nose.

He looked like such a prim and proper businessman too. He had a coat and tie on and was jabbering into the phone and jamming his pinky to the knuckle in the nose.

I wonder who he was talking to.

I wonder if the guy or lady on the other end had any idea that while this guy was talking to them, he was scratching his sinuses?

I sat and watched the guy in my rear view mirror for an eternity. Then, the guy pulled his pinky out and stared at his discovery. His golden booger.

Seriously, the whole thing grossed me out pretty badly. I burned a mental image of the guy into my brain and made a pact with myself that if I ever ran into him in a business situation, I’d find some excuse not to shake his hand.

Sorry today’s entry is so full of peeing and boogers.

I have no excuse except that yesterday was pretty boring and there’s nothing better to report.

The kid’s up which means…well … you know what it means.

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