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10:47 p.m. - 2002-10-22


Far be it for me to point out the obvious ... but did I have my tongue up Disco's ass yesterday or what?

My apologies for sounding like a drooling groupie. But these boys are damned good. Disco's a friend, a real swinger, and a (adopting sleazy Sammy Davis Jr. tone) nice guy that we should all aspire to be, g-dammit.


The reason I use g-dammit is because I had several debates with people via e-mail on my infrequent usage of the big G.D. on this site. I understand it's considered breaking one of the ten commandments to use the word....but g-dammit ... I just think the word is darned near comical-sounding. Trust me ...'t.....awww..

.....fuck it. I don't care. Think what you want. I just find the word FUNNY, but I do feel like an asshole using the word spelled out all the way.


We get it, Bob.

Get to the yuk-yuks, ya fat bastard.



YOU can really be an asshole sometime.


(Classic eye roll tossed your way like only a 40 year-old, fat, naked, raging Britney Spears-wannabe drag queen named Bob can toss your way)


I'm officially in DeleriousLand.

I have trouble spelling the word "Delerious".

I sure hope that's the correct spelling.

Actually, I couldn't give two shits.

You know what I'm trying to say. and I....YOU THE PERSON READING THIS RIGHT NOW....we're seriously getting off on the wrong foot today.

Take a deep breath.






I feel better.

Even though...secretly....I WASN'T breathing in and out like you were!!



You're all relaxed and shit and I'm wired.


I'll calm down.



Not really!!!


Okay...seriously....I've got a problem me out.

I’ve been facing a dilemma for several years now and need some input from you, my long-suffering readers.

Should you tip your waitress at a lunch buffet?


I don't have a freakin' clue if that's the etiquette or not. Back in my day, you go to a pizza buffet for lunch, you told the waitress what types of pizza and how many slices you wanted, and she'd scamper off to the kitchen and come back with exactly what you ordered.

On her hands and knees. Carrying the plate in her teeth.

I shit you not.

So yesterday, I go to Pizza Hut for their lunch buffet.

The hostess asks me how many in my party. I glumly said “One” because I’m a loser who nobody wants to eat lunch with. I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. Many times, I'll ask myself "What the hell am I doing here?" And know...just answering myself, I'll quietly murmur "I don't belong here. I ... DON'T... belong"

You William Shatner.

So anyway...the waitress, a bit on the heavy side, leads me to a table and asks what I’d like to drink

(Keep in mind...when I say "a bit on the heavy side", I ain't funnin' on or dissing my ladies in the house in any way. I'm just sayin' ... the sista had a weight problem ... what's a bitch go' do when she went and done had herself a baby and ain't had no time to work the shit off. Sheeee-itt.)

(It's shit like that last statement that has gotten me barred from several companies who have filters on their computer systems, keeping my forever punk ass a cult hero. Ambassador to the sick and poor. And lover of any dog food commercials where the dog licks the face of its owner right after it's been drinking urine out of the toilet)

So I say “Diet Pepsi”, because I think it’s funny for a fat guy who’s eating lunch by himself to grab several slices of pizza from the buffet and wash it down with a Diet Pepsi.

Freakin’ hilarious. Jerry Seinfeld's kicking himself in the ass for letting that one slip away. COMEDY GOLD, BUCKO!!!

So I get my pizza and head back to the table. The drink is already on the table.

I eat. I look out the window. I shoo the small children away from my table who are gawking at me in utter amazement. Shocked at the amount of pizza my lonely ass can put away at one seating.

I get up. I get two more slices of pizza. I sit back down.


I eat.


Oh sure...she tossed a fork and knife down.


Have them on the table before I get there, Pizza Girl.

I get up to pay.

I'm bloated at this point. I really could have used a hand yanking me out of the booth. Waitress is back in the kitchen on a stool, spitting fingernails on the floor.

Not her own, either.

I pay.

Reached in the wallet my damned self.

I leave.

The ONLY communication I have with the woman is quietly admitting that I’m by myself as I stand before my fellow Pizza Junkies, that I don’t smoke and would silently enjoy the company of other non-smokers and that I prefer Diet Pepsi over regular Pepsi and Mountain Dew.

The ONLY thing she does for me is put one Diet Pepsi on my table while I’m loading up the plate. That's it. No playful flirting ... no "On a business trip, Sailor?" as she hikes up her faded jeans to expose a tattoo of Angelina Jolie on her left calf, still scabby and puffy from its recent induction into her sexy light brown skin.

So…do I tip her for that?

Usually, I don’t.

( gasping from the Hoity Toity section.)

If I’m getting the full service from a waiter or waitress, I always tip at least 20% because 15% is too hard for me to figure out. I’m not a mathematician; I’m a writer and a lousy one at that.

But I see so many other people leaving a buck or several bucks on their tables.

What is the etiquette here and why?

She doesn’t come back around to see how I’m doing, how’s the pizza, why don’t I have anyone else to eat with, why am I such a loser, and if I’ve ever considered dropping some pounds by just eating salad instead of half a large pizza for lunch. Stuff like that.

BUT…I’m thinking that maybe the reason I don’t get any follow-up service is because I’m already labeled a “non-tipper” in there by the other waitresses and now the waitresses are on to me and my non-tipping ways.

And it’s kinda hard to say “Do you accept tips?” to the waitress because OF COURSE she’s going to say yes, even if it’s not kosher to tip them.

But I’m sorry.

I just can't figure this one out.

It's one of the great mysteries of life.

Wanna know what I hate?

I hate that we have a statewide election coming up.

More specifically, I hate when politicians dodge the issues and engage in smear campaigns against each other and their little negative commercials are the only things you can see on TV.

Right now, our current governor is accusing his opposition of not paying his taxes.

His opposition says the governor is lying, and that he paid his taxes like a good citizen.

The governor retorts with “Yeah, you paid your taxes….after a court had to tell you eight fucking times to pay your fucking taxes.”

The opposition stays quiet.

Then the opposition says “Well, you give all your buddies the cushy jobs in the state and pay them with money that was supposed to go to education.”

The governor says “Bullshit.”

The opposition says “It’s not bullshit. I can prove it.”

The governor says “Well, you didn’t pay your taxes until eight judges told you to. So you’re a bullshitter.”

The opposition says “No, you’re the bullshitter.”

Back and forth, back and forth.

It gets to the point where IF you really wanna sink to their level and actually vote for one of these bullshitting scumbags, you’ve got to decide which one is the biggest liar and vote for the other guy.

Because they certainly aren’t telling us how they feel about the issues today.

I normally wouldn’t discuss politics here because quite frankly, they bore me. And the ones that don’t bore me piss me off.


The sniper is associated with Al-Queda.

That’s my opinion, anyway. His latest message says “YOUR children aren’t safe….”

OUR children??

It’s the work of an outsider. An outsider who looks at American children as "Your" children. An outsider that’s striking fear in the hearts of the people in the nation’s capital. Who’s keeping people in their homes and out of restaurants and shopping malls. Who aren’t spending their money. Who are slowly creating another downfall in our economy.

My heart goes out to the families that have lost loved ones over these senseless acts of violence.

That guy killed yesterday was 35 years old and had two kids.

Just working. Killed for going to work.

Senseless, man.

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