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05:07 a.m. - 2001-03-27


I smell a rat.

Y'see ... this fella ... this ... Plume guy has started a little campaign to win the Best Personality Contest in Diaryland.

And right now...he's beating me.



That's right...he's whipping my ass.

"How can this be," I ask myself with nary a hint of ego behind the statement. "A fella such as Plume beating ME for 'Best Personality'??"

Why, I have such a kind and generous personality. I'm respectable, loyal, have impeccable hygenic skills and am a fairly decent cribbage player.

Yet ... Plume is beating me.

He MUST have a bigger Army than mine, that's all I've got to say.

...A bigger Army than mine.


So I go to check Plume's stats ... you know...just to see how amazingly large his Army is.

Plume had 66 visitors to his site yesterday.

Impressive. Very impressive.

Let's check my stats...hmmm...871 visitors yesterday.

Without question, one of Uncle Bob's biggest days ever.

Yet...amazingly...Plume staggered out ahead of me.

You smell that???


It's a RAT.

I cannot connect the whys and how-to's in the situation, but rest assured ... SOMEBODY is stuffing the ballot box with fistfuls of votes.


I'm not pointing any fingers (RAT! RAT! RAT!), but I think the contest has been rigged.

And with that, I shall add this....









...If I don't win this contest, I will never update my diary again.



My God. Did you just get the same chill down your spine that I did??

It's a scary thought isn't it?

But it has to be done.

So go vote.


Before you forget, click on the link, it'll open in another box, click and register, and we can finish this entry.

And since the contest is obviously rigged ... vote several hundred times.

...Oh yeah. And vote for me.

Your dear Uncle Bob.

The guy that's here EVERY SINGLE MORNING for you.

The ALL-AMERICAN guy. Danish people behind this monkey crap.

Because if you DON'T vote for me and I DON'T win this contest ... well ... what would life be like without Uncle Bob??

I'll tell you, my friend...

...It will be ... ummmmm ...sad.


And dark. Don't forget dark.

And you'll probably start noticing that your cuticles are slowly rotting off.

Yep. Studies Uncle cuticles.

I know what you're thinking..."Gee Uncle's okay. I can live with no cuticles."

Do you really think so, Grasshopper??

I mean...where would your fingernails end? Have you ever thought about that?? You'd go to bite or clip your fingernails and YOU WOULDN'T KNOW WHERE TO STOP.

All because you didn't vote for me. sad is THAT?

You'd walk through the mall, people would be pointing at you and going " cuticles!" and little children would be crying and hugging their mommy's legs, praying that Mommy will pick them up and hold them tight in her arms so that the no-cuticle freak doesn't bite them or rub their slimy fingers all over them.

Do you really want THAT for a life??

I didn't think so.

So go vote now.

And if you don't want to cast a vote for me ... cast a vote for AMERICA.

That's right...America.

Home of the free and the brave and the economically challenged.

Because...Plume is from Denmark.

And believe me when I say this ... Denmark is NOT in America, my friend.

And you know the saying..."Something smells funny in Denmark."

Well...that "something" is a rat.

A RAT!!!

Maybe in Denmark they can get away with stuffing ballots hand over fist. Maybe that's how they do things in Denmark. Maybe that's why things like marijuana are legal in Denmark. And so is sex with animals and ... and...and guns and stuff.


We're law-abiding citizens that when presented with something as serious as a "Best Personality in Diaryland" contest, we do our duty and register ONCE.

And we register for UNCLE F'N BOB.

In short ... I stand for what is good in America. I stand for what is right. I stand for when my knees start getting stiff and I need to loosen up a bit.


I have spoken.

...albeit with a slight speech impediment since I burned my tongue last night on some especially delicious teriyaki rice ...

Help an old man accomplish his dream. And that dream is for me to stand with one foot planted square on Plume's chest, with me beating my own chest with my fists and hollering "I HAVE THE BEST PERSONALITY IN DIARYLAND!!!" know...that really means something to me.

Oh ... who am I kidding?

I had never even heard of these awards until recently. And I've said it before and I'll say it again...I don't think ANYONE should be singled out in Diaryland. I don't believe in awards being handed out for people expressing themselves.

These are our lives that we discuss in Diaryland. You know...for the most part.

Should we really be receiving awards for how we talk about our lives??

I don't think so.

And Plume...I'm just messin' with ya. You've got a cute little diary there. I like how you tried to convince everyone you were me. Heh.

Cracked my ass up anyway.

Am I telling you not to vote now??

Ummmmm...well...I'm kinda hoping you already voted.

Tee hee!

My campaign manager for the Biggest Rat In Town Contest wanted to have a golf tournament to help me raise money.

I told her to go for it, not really expecting her to get it done.

It's done.

So the "Uncle Bob Invitational for Cancer" is now a reality.

What does this mean?

Well, it means I have fear stricken in my heart.

Y'see...I've NEVER golfed in my life. NEVER. I even suck at computer golf. The last time I tried that, my little computer guy was off in the woods, beating woodchucks with his computerized golf club. THAT'S how bad I suck at golf.

But...because the tournament is in MY NAME, I have to golf.

And these are serious golfers that I'll have to be playing with. People that paid $100 to play with me.


This is NOT going to be pretty, I guarantee you.

I've already got a golf pro assigned to give me tips later in April before the tournament is held.

I'm going to go along with it because I really want to win the title of Biggest Rat in Town.

...Just like I want to win the Best Personality in Diaryland.

Except I THOUGHT I stood a chance at winning the Diaryland thing. The biggest Rat contest...I'm a long shot in that one, but not for lack of trying.

I have REALLY become competitive here lately where I used to be complacent.

Old age perhaps?


QUEEN: "We Are The Champions"

...For obvious reasons...


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