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10:10:27 - 2001-03-06


You know the worst feeling in the whole world?

Standing by helplessly while your baby gets his shots at the doctor's office.

Okay ... I'm sure there's worse feelings. I'm sure that mutilated genitalia probably hurts worse. Or watching your kid get shot point blank in the head ... yeah ... that may be worse than him getting three shots in the leg.

But far...that's been the worst part of being a parent.

We take Andy to the doctor yesterday for his four month checkup. Beforehand, we took the advice of damned near every parent we know and plug him full of Infant Tylenol, which is supposed to relieve the pain of receiving three separate needles in his chunky thighs.

So he gets the Tylenol ... and the kid is STONED.

High as a kite.

Loopy as a jaybird.

Strung out like Slash at the Playboy Mansion.

He learned something new in his altered state ... how to push air out of his mouth so that his lips flap and make a funny noise while spit bubbles form.

So naturally, he wants to do this nonstop because to him, it's amusing.

I find it hilarious as well. Whenever he discovers something new, it's such a trip. And to find something so silly that amuses him ...'s just too excellent.

The doctor comes into our room and checks him out. Andy's grinning like an idiot, still stoned out of his gourd.

He has a slight ear infection. We would have never known it because the kid's quiet as a lamb about these kinda things.

Then...the nurse pops in with her tray of needles.

Andy gives her a big smile. He's laying on the table in his diaper and seeing pink elephants run around the room courtesy of the good people at Infant's Tylenol.

Then the first needle is inserted.

His smile went to a scream in 0.2 seconds.

It about broke my heart.

He's crying and writhing and fighting desperately to get away from this woman. Susie had to hold him down because I refuse to. In my warped mind, I think that if he doesn't see me during these needles, he won't hold me responsible for any of the pain.

The next two needles are jabbed in and he keeps a constant cry going. Nothing too strong or out of the ordinary, but it just keeps coming.

I feel his pain.

The lady leaves after apologizing to Andy. Andy doesn't want her in the room anymore. She's now officially "The Bad Lady" and the further she gets from him, the better.

Susie dresses him while he cries.

Susie starts crying. She says it's because now she has to turn him over to his daycare lady while he's crying, which makes her feel guilty as a mother. All she wants to do is take him home and hold him for the rest of the day to alleviate his pain.

I pick him up and soothe him. Amazingly, as I've said here before, I've got some kinda power in me that makes him stop crying.

He stops crying. Five minutes after the shots, the kid has stopped crying.

We leave, put him in the car and by the time we get to the first red light, he's out. Between the Tylenol and the crying jags, the kid has worn himself out.

We take him to Day Care and he's still sound asleep.

He came home last night and had completely forgotten about the shots. He was happy, playful and cooing away.


I really, really love this kid.

By the way...he's grown six inches since birth...he's now 27 inches long and weighs 15.7 pounds.

...For those of you keeping personal records on my kid's growth.

Well ... apparently Napster isn't kaput after all.

I downloaded a few songs last night and kept it open all night and plenty of people downloaded my crappy MP3s as well.

One word to some of you who are messaging me in Napster...

I don't stay at the computer when I have Napster open. With a cable modem, I just usually keep Napster open 24-7. Quite a few of you have messaged me in Napster and I don't answer back. That's because I'm either

A) Away from the computer or

B) Sound asleep.

So don't be offended if I don't message you back. You just waltzed in while I was away from the computer.

I'm not trying to be a snob or anything.


I'm not.

I've got this painful bump on the end of my tongue.

It's like a zit or something. Everytime I run my tongue across my teeth, it stings. So naturally, I can't quit doing it.

I bet I should gargle with warm salt water.


I just bet I should.

I made some pretty good BBQ in the crock pot yesterday.

I put a Boston Butt pork roast in there, sliced up some onions, put in about 40 cloves of garlic, and let it cook on low all day.

Then about 6 last night, I drained all the juices, stirred the meat with a spoon so that it just fell apart so tenderly, and added some of every BBQ sauce in the refrigerator.

So there's about 7 different sauces in there. secret BBQ ingredient...syrup.

It actually turned out pretty damned good. Except now I have enough to feed an army, yet I don't have an army currently staying in my home.

I may take some to work and let them eat it there.

I'll keep you posted on any further BBQ developments.

But I'll tell you what I DO have staying in my home next week...

The Dreaded Knee Humping Nephews.

Susie's sister and family from Texas will be here for ONE DAY next week as they stop in on their way to Gulf Shores, Alabama where they like to go for Spring Break.

Never mind that there's about a million different tourist attractions from Dallas to Alabama ... they want to come to this shitty little beach in Alabama.

So they want to stop in and breathe and sneeze all over Andy.

The hair on the back of my neck is already standing up.

They originally said they'd get a hotel room while they were here for that one night.

Last night, her sister called and asked Susie if they could stay with us for the night.

Susie said she'd ask me.

She asked me.

I said "Hell no."

First ... it's next Wednesday night. That's "Ed" night around here. Believe it or not ... I'm WORKING while I watch "Ed" and I ask for total silence while I work.

Having a house full of 12 inlaws is NOT total silence.

Second, since this brood is "on vacation", NONE of them will be up before noon.

NONE of them.

I have to work the next day. I have to tiptoe around the house to get ready because there are inlaws sleeping EVERYWHERE. Because it's NEVER just the Texas crew sleeping here. The local nephews and nieces have to spend the night, a mother here, a grandmother adds up, kiddies.

As SOON as they wake up, they all scratch their balls in unison because all of the nephews sleep in their jockeys. Which means I have boys ranging from 19 to 10 years of age crashed on my sofas in nasty jockey underwear.

Oh. And they all drool in their sleep. I threw out six sofa pillows last year when they came to stay, because each pillow was stained so badly from their slobber that there was no way I was ever going to rest my head on it again.

My own drool? Fine.

Someone else's drool? Uh-uh.

I have a feeling I'm going to lose this battle and I'll still have a family full of inlaws screaming and fighting over the Play Station or asking me to make them CDs or pissing all over the toilet seat, or running in and outside and "Forgetting" to close the door behind them or searching for porn on the internet every time I turn my back.

It WILL happen.

It's inevitable.

And as long as it's for only one night, I guess I can handle it.

But damn.

I dread it.

I don't know about you, but I sure have been getting a lot of email lately from concerned citizens who want to make sure my penis is huge.

"Want a Bigger Penis?" the subject lines scream.

Well yeah, sure. Every man wants a bigger penis. That means bigger paychecks, more respect, gorgeous supermodels hanging off your nut sack and a jock full of meat.

Who DOESN'T want a bigger penis??

So finally, I went ahead and opened one of these emails.

Whoever sent it REALLY wants me to have a bigger penis. The penis I currently have is not enough, it's too small, it's weak and it offends women in general.

But if I order their product, not only will my penis be larger, but my life will be complete.

Strangely ... the "product" that they're selling is never really mentioned in the email or the accompanying website that they guide me to in order to "learn more about this amazing product".

Instead, I'm faced with closeups of guys holding their shriveled dicks in some "before" pictures and then holding a fleshy 2 x 4 in the "After" pictures.

I want a bigger penis.

Dammit, I deserve a bigger penis.

As always...I'll keep you posted on my penis adventures.


BTK: "Peppy Rock"

I've only heard this song was recommended to me by someone else last night ... but I really dug it and I can't think of anything else right now to suggest.


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