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10:17:01 - 2001-02-21


I discovered a neat little trick yesterday that tickled me to no end.

I was on my way to work, driving through my subdivision, when a car driving towards me was driving WAYYY over the 25 mph speed limit.

This pisses me off. Twenty years ago, that'd be me driving 45 through a 25 mph zone. Today, I drive the speed limit through my own subdivision. There's kids everywhere and they seem to always be running out into the street like there's an imaginary Mardi Gras parade going on 24-7.

So what do I do?

I flash my lights at the guy. The old "There's a cop up ahead with radar...SLOW DOWN" signal.

The guy slams on his brakes, gets near me and waves as he passes me to thank me for the heads up on the cop situation.

Tee hee!

There IS NO cop up ahead.

So now...this guy's gonna drive the speed limit for the duration of his trip, because I "told" him there was a cop up ahead and he's going to keep his eyes peeled looking for a cop that isn't there.

I dunno. It amused me to no end.

And it's OBVIOUSLY a great and easy way to fuck with people, which is always a plus in my book.

An old friend of Susie's spent the night last night.

I know that I went to bed at 10:30 and they were still up gabbing away.

Poor Susie had to get up at 5 a.m. to get ready for work and to feed Fonzie and take him to daycare.

I woulda done it, but I've gotta take Space Pooch to the vet in hopes that TODAY she loses her space helmet.

Christ, this dog is on my every last nerve. She uses her space helmet to ram it into EVERYTHING.

Last night in the middle of the night, she knocked over a box fan, Fonzie's diaper pail, and a plant.

I think she does it on purpose. This space helmet makes her an evil, evil dog.

If the doctor doesn't take it off today, I'm telling him to keep the hairy bitch. After 11 years, this space helmet is going to be the last straw.

Of course ... I'm not REALLY going to tell him to keep her. But I may take the space helmet off once we get home and let her chew her stitches out of her ass once again and when I take her back and he sees her stitches have been pulled out, he'll angrily spin on his heels and confront me and I'll just give him a dumb look and shrug my shoulders and say "I dunno what happened."

...It always worked when I was 4 years old anyway...

And yes...I'm calling the kid Fonzie now.

Monday night, Fonzie and I were trying to come up with a cool nickname for him ... you know...get him started early.

We narrowed it down to four.


The King.

The Mole.

Richard Hatch.

I would ask him "Do you like The King for a nickname?" et cetera.

If he flailed his arms around, that meant he was open to whatever suggestion I threw out at him.

He liked Fonzie and Richard Hatch.

So Fonzie it is!!

Of course, Susie absolutely hates this game I'm playing.

"We're NOT calling him Fonzie," she said the other night.

"C'mon hon...I want my boy to be cool," I pleaded. "And Fonzie was cool. Can't you just imagine on his first day of kindergarten when he tells the teacher to call him Fonzie?"

"We're NOT calling him Fonzie," she said again.

"Maybe YOU'RE not," I muttered. "But Fonzie and I are calling him Fonzie."

It's really getting under her skin.

And I'm doing my best not to laugh out loud every time she gets pissed about it.

We've gotta go to a funeral today.

An elderly woman named Opal from church died on Sunday morning before church.

I have NO IDEA who she is. I can't even place the name with the face.

Susie's tried to tell me where she always sat and I'm trying to remember which old lady sat there.

But they all look alike when they get older than 85.

"She's frail, pale and walks really slow," Susie said, trying to describe her.

"Duh," I said. "You just described the entire elderly population of America."

Soooo...and maybe this is bad ... but the only reason I'm going to the funeral is so that we can get there early and I can see her in her casket, mentally slap myself in the forehead and go "Okayyyyy...I know which one she is now."

I think that's a fair reason to go to a funeral, don't you? Just to find out exactly who died??

I offered to be one of the pallbearers and if they need me, they're going to use me. Apparently I'm on the second string of pallbearers ... the guys that are strong and can lift a casket, but aren't really attached to the deceased like the other pallbearers.

I doubt I'm actually a pallbearer because nobody called me to tell me to be ready to do it.

We'll see.

More news on the Biggest Rat in Town contest that I've agreed to participate in.

It takes place the entire month of April. So I have the entire month of April to raise as much money possible for the American Cancer Society.

Currently, I've got some good people on my team. The president of the ACS locally has already agreed to endorse me and we're having lunch tomorrow.

The owner of the biggest fur store in town has agreed to donate in my name. So we're talking at LEAST a thousand smackers out of him, maybe more.

I have people brainstorming for ideas. I have rock bands at my disposal as well as a few restaurants who will help out.

Technically, I could win this thing.

Once again ... we'll see.

I've been out of Coca-cola for two days now at the house.

I have a bad headache right now.

DON'T try and tell me the two aren't related. I'll chew your damned head off if you try to tell me they're not.

Are they???


(Uncle Bob files his incisors,waiting for an answer)

I didn't THINK so.

I wish I had a Pop Tart.

Cherry would be nice.

Oooooo...thunderstorms are coming through!!!

NOTHING beats an early morning thunderstorm!!!

Okay ... wild, unbridled sex would beat an early morning thunderstorm.

But I haven't had that since I was a teenager, so I wouldn't really know.

And beef stroganoff is better than early morning thunderstorms.


Damned near everything beats an early morning thunderstorm.

STILL ... I like them.

And with that ... I'm outtie. Have a good day ... it's HUMP DAYYYYY!!!

....hump me....


FRANKIE VALLI: "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" me a shmaltzy bastard ... but I LOVE this song. LOVE IT. It's soooo cheesy, but I can sing JUST LIKE the guy and never pass up an opportunity to do so. I sang this one in a karaoke bar one night and brought the house down. Seriously.

Okay ... my friends half-assed clapped for me. But hey ... that counts, doesn't it??


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