BOILED BUFFALO BALLS ARE GO!

Gadzooks I'm tired.

About 3:20 a.m., Shithead Baby decides that he's wanting to cry a little bit.

This is getting to be sooooo obnoxious. For months and months, he slept all through the night. Now...he ALWAYS wakes up at least once a night, crying.

So anyway, we're both laying there listening to him cry.

"That sounds like a hungry cry to me," I said. It didn't REALLY sound like a hungry cry. But I sure as hell didn't wanna get up.

"It sounds like a "Come pat my bottom" cry to me," Susie countered.

"I can see where you might hear that," I tried to reason. "But it's clearly a hungry cry."

We both laid there as the crying got louder.

"He's not hungry," Susie tried to convince herself.

"Yeah," I said softly. "He is. Maybe you should go nurse him."

Crying got louder.

Finally, Susie kicked the sheets off and got out of bed.

"I sure wish you could lactate," she grumbled as she stumbled to his room.

I pulled the sheets up over my head and giggled.

Stupid, stupid lactater.

Andy's first day back at daycare went well yesterday, except it marked the third day in a row where his schedule was off kilter.

Apparently, he HATES napping when other kids are around because he wants to play, or watch them play, or whatever the hell nine month-old babies do when they're around other kids.

Miss Robin said he took two very short naps all day and was TIRED when I went to pick him up yesterday.

I got him in the van and started asking him how his day was as I drove away. Sometimes he grunts back, sometimes he just wants to hear my voice.

Yesterday, he was sound asleep by the time I asked how his day was.

The kid cracks me up.

Fear Factor.

Jesus God almighty.

For those of you who didn't see it, please...let ME be the one to tell you about it.

Y'see...every episode they either have to be covered by gross stuff, or eat gross stuff.

Last night, they had to eat two buffalo testicles.

Uh huh.

Buffalo testicles.

Now then, being semi-familiar with human testicles, I'm expecting them to have to chow down on two little round balls the size of a spool. My own testicles, of course, are bigger than a breadbox, but we're not here to talk about my magnificent genitalia. For a change, anyway.

These things were bigger than my fist.

And skinned.

And big and slimy and all sorts of colors and just...just...just...gross.

They had to bite into the testicle, get down to the meaty core and eat all the meat out of the testicles.

Two men and two women.

You would THINK that the women would have no problem with this. They've probably had balls bouncing off their chins for a few solid years now...eating them should be a piece of cake.

Uh-uh.

The women took one bite and dropped out of the contest.

The men...two guys who probably never wanted to have to admit to any of their friends that they ate animal testicles...chowed down on those bad boys. Apparently, they stunk (my TV didn't come equipped with Smellovision(TM)), and were full of juice (i.e. buffalo semen)and not all that tasty.

That didn't deter these guys, who were willing to humiliate themselves on national television for 50 grand.

Sure...I could use fifty grand. But there's no way in HELL you're going to point a camera in my face and make me eat boiled buffalo balls for it.

I'm sorry.

Find some other sap, Fear Factor. I get queasy eating week-old bread. I doubt seriously I could munch a ball or two.

I wonder if gay guys would have an easier time with it? I wonder if they'd get a sparkle in their eye and grab a fork and knife and a bib and grin from ear to ear if they knew they had to eat buffalo balls.

I wonder.

Speaking of ...well hell...there's not much I could say to segue into this one.

Check this out.

Told ya there wasn't much I could be talking about to segue into that guy.

I will be answering the Ask Uncle Bob questions later today.

As soon as I posted the "Ask Uncle Bob" entry yesterday, I started getting work assignments around the office.

And I can really only answer the questions during slow stretches at work.

I actually have two interviews scheduled for today.

Let's see if either of them pan out or if they follow the lead set by all the other people I was "supposed" to interview and cancel on me.

Rabble scrabble interviewees...

I'm tickled pink that Anenigma is back.

Welcome back, sweetie! Several of us Diarylanders with absolutely no life whatsoever missed you!!

This past weekend, we saw a house near my office that was for sale.

Susie thinks it's out of our price range, but I don't. Then again...we don't KNOW the price yet.

Anyway, yesterday after work I had to drive past the house, so I timed how long it would take to get to work from this house.

It was less than a minute. It was a verse and a chorus of "Old Time Rock 'n' Roll" by Bob Seger, if that helps any.

I'd love to live a verse and a chorus from work.

That's be awesome. I have to be in by 8:30 every morning. I could leave at 8:28 and STILL be early.

That would R-O-C-K ROCK, my friend.

Rock, I'm tellin' ya.

Rock.

Alright then...I've officially scraped the bottom of the barrel trying to find things to talk about here, so I'm calling it kewwwwits for the morning.

Come back later today for yet another thrilling entry of "What Did Uncle Bob Do At Work This Morning?"

Gawsh.

I dunno about you, but I sure can't wait.