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5:34 a.m. - 2004-04-19


Okayyyyy ... let's see ...

This new job thing ... the deejay supervisor gig?

This has got to be the weirdest job thing I've ever partaken in.

I've been "hired" by the company, but the company has yet to get the clubs to sign a contract.

My "supervisor" says that's just a simple little roadblock and that it'll be taken care of soon.

So technically, until that contract is signed, I have no clubs to supervise.

Yet today I'm going to meet with the manager of one of the clubs to discuss promotions and my experience, etc.

I've got a few promotions I'm going to throw out there.

The first one is "Bladder Busters".

Basically, everyone that walks through the door pays $15 or something and gets to drink for free.

Sounds good, right?


But the FIRST PERSON that has to use the bathroom cancels the whole promotion.

So it's a limited promotion and everyone's drinking as fast as they can to get their money's worth.

And every time someone is moaning about having to pee, everyone is drunk and begging them not to go.

If you leave the premises, you have to pay another $15 to get in. That cuts off people going out to the parking lot to pee.

Personally, I think it sounds like fun.

Plus, it could do irreparable damage to one's kidneys and you know what I say ... a bar promotion isn't a bar promotion unless it fucks you up for life.

I've got a few more, but they're kinda lame, so that's where you come in.

What are some of the coolest bar promotions that you've ever seen or been a part of?

Please leave me your answer in the comments section at the bottom of this entry. The little thing that says "0 people had to tell Uncle Bob something" or whatever the hell it says.

Everyone that leaves me a cool promotion will receive a year's subscription to Uncle Bob's Diary O' Chuckles FREE!!

Pretty cool, huh?


And you thought my other promotions were lame.

The Easter Bunny brought Andrew a Slip 'n' Slide last weekend.

It was cold and rainy here on Easter so he didn't get to use it until Saturday.

The only problem was that there was a hole in the .... ummmm ... the part that shoots water out.

So basically water was gushing out of the hole into the grass rather than getting the Slip 'n' Slide wet.

So technically it wasn't a Slip 'n' Slide at all.

It was more of a Stand 'n' Sit.

I've got to say, Andrew was less than impressed with it.

We took it back to Target yesterday, thus blowing the whole Easter Bunny myth out of the water.

I had to carefully explain to Andrew that the Easter Bunny does all his shopping at Target while Santa frequents Walmart.

I think he bought it.

The goofy little simpleton.

I DJ'ed a pool party on Saturday night.

All I knew about it beforehand was that it was for a singles group.

So I'm thinkin' ... you know ... hot chicks in bikinis and stuff ... right?


Turns out it was a church singles group.

More specifically ... it was the SAME church singles group that I DJ'ed for on New Year's Eve.

The dreaded ballroom dancers.

The Cha-Cha chumps.

The miserable fuckwads who are intent on forcing me into early DJ retirement.

I didn't really know this for the first 30 minutes or so of the party.

The host asked me to play Hawaiian Luau music for the first hour to "get everyone in the mood".


A little Don Ho to get the blood flowing in the nether regions works every time.

So I'm playing this insane Hawaiian bullshit when a guy in his 60s walks over to me.

He's got a bad combover and is the only one still wearing his sunglasses because he's the "cool hot male" of the church group.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asks.

(This is before I realized these were the same lame bastards I played for four months ago)

"Probably from the clubs," I said.

He thought about it for a second and then said "You DJed the New Year's Eve Party!"

That's when I froze.

I looked around and it all made sense then.

The lame jokes where people were getting leis put around their necks which prompted them to quip in wacky fashion: "I haven't been 'lei'd' in years!"

The overabundance of Pepsi products and the complete lack of alcoholic beverages.

The guy wanting to say a blessing before everyone began eating.

I was back in cha-cha hell.

So I told Joe Cool "Yeah! That was me alright!" as I tried to think of a way I could tear down my equipment and slowly get the hell out of there without anyone noticing.

"I sure hope you got better since last time!" he said.

Ahhhhh ... one of those wacky church-singles group ego booster guys!

I thought that was a pretty rude thing to say, but he followed it up with "Have you brought plenty of cha-cha music this time?"

Now luckily, after the New Year's Eve Massacre, I came home and downloaded about 50 Cha Cha songs and burned them all on disc.

I had never played those discs.

Until Saturday night.

I cha-cha'ed their ASSES off.

They were cha-cha'ing in the grass, on the patio, in the house, around the pool ... these people cha-cha'ed until they couldn't cha-cha no more.

And this time, those bastards were RAVING afterwards!

(I don't mean that they all took Ecstasy and started dancing like Batman while I played high-energy dance music and encouraged them to drink Red Bull. I meant they were gushing with excitement.)

Lots of people told me how great of a job I did and reminded me that God would indeed bless me for my incredible cha-cha playing skills.

Uhhhhh ... yeah.

I've got to say one thing about the church singles group parties ... they sure like to end them early.

By 9:30, they were stacking lawn chairs and everyone was going home to get a good night's rest so they could be at church bright and early the next morning.

That is ... if they could overcome the intense buzz that a few Pepsis late at night can produce.

At first I thought it was my fault that everyone was leaving. I was fully prepared to cha-cha the bastards 'til dawn.

But the host explained that he had a sound ordinance curfew in the neighborhood and had to have it quiet by 10.

No complaints from me, Padre.

Now then ... go ahead and tell me the coolest bar promotion you ever witnessed.

Help your dear Uncle Bob out.

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