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3:13 a.m. - 2003-02-24


You know that phrase "When it rains, it pours"?

And you know how some of you are all "What the hell does that mean?"

I'm here today to tell you what that means in an essay I'd like to call "How I Spent My Shitty Weekend".


Okay, I was supposed to grill steaks out on Friday for dinner.

But it was raining. It was pouring. That should have been the omen I needed, but I completely ignored it.

Susie and Andrew get home.

"Honey,I've got bad news," I said, meaning there would be no steak dinner tonight.

"So do I," she said. "What's yours?"

I looked at her face and it was red. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

Something told me my news wasn't going to hold a candle to hers.

"Uhhhhh," I said. "It's raining so I won't be cooking steaks tonight."

She started BAWLING.

Granted, she's not exactly a carnivore. She likes steak okay, but not enough to where if I told her I wouldn't be able to cook it, she'd go over the edge.

So, being the brilliant deductive detective that I am, I realized that whatever had her bawling was not based on the fact that we had to postpone a steak dinner.

"I HATE my job," she screamed, scaring Andrew and momentarily making my blood run cold.

Apparently, she got her annual review at her job. Everything her asshole boss wrote was very encouraging and good.

And each time he wrote something, he had to give her a numerical score from 1 to 5 ... 1 being the worst and 5 being the best.

She got all 2's. A few 3's, but mostly 2's.

Yet it was all "Susie has shown great leadership in this capacity....2"

She got the worst score of everyone in her department. She's the leader of her department and has trained everyone underneath her in the nine years that she's been on the job.

And still got the worst score. It averaged out to a 2.3.

The newest girl got a 4.5.

This is a girl that calls Susie constantly to ask how to do things from Florida.

So she's crying so hard that her voice dropped a few octaves. I don't know how you women do it. It's like a dull roar or something. But she sounded like a man when she said "There's no other jobs out there for me" between sobs.

So I consoled her. Personally, I hate this bastard too. Ever since we saw him out in public with his mistress, he's had it out for Susie, trying to get her to quit while saying that he thinks the world of her.

After some consoling, she says "And that's not all."

Great. She's been fired. I tensed up.

Nope. She hadn't been fired.

"Go look at the van," she cries.

Oh. Shit.

The back of the van is smashed in. Not bad, but enough to where the back door can't be opened.

"What happened?" I asked.

She was leaving a woman's house after picking up her order for Susie's at-home business and she backed up into something.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "There was a truck parked on the street. I either hit the truck or a pole."

"You didn't stop to see what it was?" I asked.


Holy shit. I felt it was time to state the obvious.

"You know that's called a hit and run and is against the law, right?" I said.

"I know that!" she yelled. "It was dark and raining and Andrew was hungry and crying and I just wanted to get home."

I didn't really care that the van was smashed in. That can be fixed.

I was glad they weren't hurt. I was glad they were home safe. I wasn't glad about her boss.

And I wasn't glad about the steaks that sat in the fridge for another day.


Saturday wasn't as bad as Friday night.

But I had to watch this special on MTV, "Meet the Greeks" that serves as a precursor to the new show Fraternity Life that I'll be recapping.

My God. I've never sat and actually had to take notes for an MTV show. I understand all about the MTV way of doing things with rapid-fire editing and all. That makes it incredibly difficult to recap. You can't recap a scene that lasts less than two seconds as most of them do.

I tried.

And failed miserably.

I ended up writing a recap that was mean, bitter and ugly.

Granted, that's how most of my recaps go. It's my style. After all, we're recapping television ... without pity.

I turned it in and then checked the forums and apparently there's some of the people from the show that are posting on the forums.

So technically, I blasted some people and they're going to see it.

I'm not the type of person to write mean things about people when I KNOW they're going to read about it here.

Except for Gawain. But that's only because I doubt the stupid bastard can read and actually employs a roomful of monkeys to write his diary entries. So I've always felt safe riding that guy's ass.

The people I write mean things about (Pervy, Nosy Assed Neighbor) are people who have no idea Uncle Bob exists.

So now, I've basically called these people a bunch of classless fuckbags and am about to get blasted by these classless fuckbags.

I don't like doing that. I'm supposed to be mean and ruthless. That's what I'm paid for. That's what brought me to the dance.

And now, I get the strange feeling that I'm about to be raked over the coals for it.

It's my first reality show dealing with real people and not actors. I forgot about that.

Anyway...the recap will be up to read later today on the site.

At which time, I will begin to catch holy hell from people I don't know because they were portrayed to look like brainless street people by some MTV editors.

I guess there's worse things in life.

Like...a second night of rain so that I can't grill steaks out.

So my brilliant back-up plan goes like this...I have this blackened steak seasoning. I will cook the steaks in a skillet, blacken them and voila! Instant steakage!

The recipe says to use a cast iron skillet. I don't have a cast iron skillet, so I use the heaviest one I have.

Heat the skillet on high for at least 10 minutes. I heat it for 13 minutes.

The steaks will produce an intense smoke. I know this as I've done this once before. I take the skillet on the covered patio with the steaks.

I put the steaks in. Intense smokeage flares up.

I can't even see the steaks. I flip them before they burn though through the smoke.

I cook them for about 3 minutes. I take them out of the skillet, put them on a plate and go back inside.

I look at the stove. There's melted metal all over our brand new stove that can't just be scraped off. It's melted onto the burner (which can be replaced fairly inexpensively) and parts of the stove (which can't).

I look at the skillet. It had melted on the bottom from the heat.

Susie couldn't give me any shit, because a replacement burner for the stove is a bit less inexpensive than smashing the back of the van in.

We sat down to eat.

The steak tasted like melted metal.

The steaks went in the garbage and we had fish sticks for dinner.


We go to church, anticipating the big vote as to whether we will be hiring this new minister or not.

I'm flexible on it. I want to leave the church for a bigger church where my son can have kids his own age to hang out with and where the age of the congregation is closer to our age rather than death.

I make mention to Susie that if it's a paper vote, where you check "yes" or "no", I bet she doesn't get hired. Because people will be more honest in a paper vote and they need 75% of the people present to vote yes in order to accept her.

But if it's a show of hands, people will all vote yes because they're too scared to step out on a limb and challenge the hiring. I was shown that last week when everyone kept saying how brave I was to take a stand and say that I didn't care for her and that we'd be making a mistake by hiring her.

When the powers that be have made up their mind that they want to hire someone or that they're just tired of looking at possible candidates, the rest of the congregation is supposed to follow them like sheep and do whatever they say.

Naturally, the powers that be did NOT want a paper vote because that would mean that the people could anonymously vote against their candidate and they'd be back to the drawing board.

So it was a show of hand vote.

85 voted to hire the woman.

None voted against it.

There were 8 votes abstained. One of those was mine.

She's been hired.

Afterwards, people that blatantly voted for her were quietly grumbling about it.

One lady in particular, the choir director, told Susie "I just wish she'd leave her husband in Florida. He's too creepy for me."

One of the members of the choir admitted to me that they didn't like her, but they weren't going to stand in the way of progress because they knew she was going to be hired regardless.

I'm not sure if that really explains how I feel ... but I'm tired of going to church with a bunch of gutless sheep that won't stand up for themselves.

Hell ... I'm tired of going to church in general. My gut feeling has always been that it's full of a bunch of hypocrites.

And yesterday proved me right.


To top the entire freakin' weekend off in grand style ....

Bruce Springsteen gets beaten by Norah Jones for Album of the Year.

That confirms it.

There IS no God.

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