I MARRIED SATAN

I love Pizza-flavored Goldfish crackers.

I love 'em so much that I kiss each goldfish before I eat them.

One just kissed me back and tried to slip me the tongue.

Acid flashbacks ... not cool.

Sooooo....some of you are probably sitting there...rubbing your eyes and thinking to yourself ... "Gee....poor Uncle Bob. His show, the awesome runaway hit "The Surreal Life" only has two more episodes before it's over, leaving poor Uncle Bob out of a part-time writing gig."

Yeah.

You just keep thinking that, Buster.

The truth is ... I'm going to be recapping another show much sooner than later for Television Without Pity.

As they say in the TV world ... stay tuned for further details.

I mean...I already know the details myself. I know the name of the show and everything.

But this is what they call in the TV world ... a cliffhanger.

Ain't it cool how I'm learning all this nifty TV jargon as time goes on?

Now watch ... I'll forget to tell you guys about the show, thinking I've already told you guys about the show and then nobody will "tune in" (more TV slang ... it means "watch the show")and then my life will completely fall apart in rapid succession.

Yeah.

You just watch, Buster.

I will give you a hint though.

The show starts two weeks from today.

Now...go outside and play, you little scamps! Uncle Bob's too busy to divulge any more!

NO WAIT!!!

Don't go outside just yet.

I have more to tell you.

And as we've all learned by now...every word I type must be pored over and absorbed for future generations!!!

Uh-huh.

Yep.

Sooooo...I was going through all the stuff listed at Swappingtons and I ran across someone who was basically offering a phone call with themselves.

I thought it was a pretty cool idea myself.

So I thought..."Hey you! Why don't YOU do the same thing? Why don't YOU capitalize on someone else's idea and see if you can scrounge up some extra points so that you can afford that awesome Weetamix CD??

Then I thought...who the hell would trade points to sit and listen to me prattle on and on about nothing in general?

Then I thought...HEY! I could put Andrew on the phone with them too! What an AWESOME TWIST!!

Or even...HEY!! PHONE SEX WITH UNCLE BOB!!!

YEAH!! I could call you up and whisper lewd nothings into your ear. And say things like "Oh yeah, baby...here it comes baby...oh yeah baby...here it comes baby..." over and over again until you finally hang up out of sheer frustration!!

HUH??? CAN YOU SAY "TOO COOL"?!?!?!

So uhhhh...no....I'm not going to do it.

But at least it crossed my mind.

This space for rent.

So last night we gathered at the church to meet our first prospect in the search for a new pastor.

This is a female.

Let me state that I live in what is undoubtedly the most biased, racist, prejudiced city in all of America.

We were the LAST city to give blacks any rights. Ask Rosa Parks. She's got all sorts of stories about my city.

I'm not from here originally. I'm a Midwest boy who still pronounces "wash" "woysh". I have never seriously used the words "reckon" or "fixin'". Well ... I've used the word "fixin'" as in "I'm fixin' the computer." Never "I'm fixin' to fix the computer."

It's a Southern thing. And trust me ... I DON'T understand.

That said ... having a female minister in this town is almost unheard of. I do believe that there's one church in town that caters to those with alternative lifestyles with a female minister, but that's the only one I know of.

So she's got an uphill battle as far as winning over the congregation.

Right?

Wrong.

The people that gathered there last night LOVED her. Positively LOVED her.

All.

Except.

For.

Me.

It wasn't that she was female exactly. It was the fact that she was trying too hard to please us.

I spotted it a mile away. She fake laughed at all of the lame jokes being tossed about.

You know..."Why doesn't Jesus ever visit whorehouses?"

"Because he doesn't like getting nailed."

That kinda stuff.

I realized that I am a class A hypocrite. Everyone else in the room weren't starting their questions "IF we were to hire you" they were saying "WHEN we hire you..." which really pissed me off because they were assuming that everyone was going to love her and accept her and welcome her with open arms.

And quite frankly ... I'd rather interview a few more people before we settle on the first person that comes down the pike.

The point is moot anyway because we have already decided to pursue other churches that can offer more activities for children.

But now Susie is all "I LOVE HER!!" and is thinking about sacrificing our son's happiness and religious upbringing for her own.

I married the devil.

She's misplaced her pitchfork, but I know the devil when I see him.

And my wife is the devil.