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8:08 a.m. - 2002-01-13


It's a shame you can't see me right now. Because even though I have bedhead ... two days worth of beard growth and am wearing the same sweatshirt that I've been wearing since Friday evening ... my teeth are a dazzling, sparkling masterpiece.

Yes...I finally got my Crest Whitestrips. There is a God. With big pearly God whites.

Okay ... they're not exactly "pearly whites". But in 14 days, I will "reveal a whiter smile" GUARANTEED.

I'm giddy. I don't know if I can wait 14 days. I'm thinking about grabbing some wite-out and painting my teeth to see what they'll look like.

I'm willing to bet that in 14 days, I'll be beating off women with a stick. Sure...some would probably prefer a shampoo bottle, but that's neither here nor there.

I'm really curious to see how these things work. Because nobody knows your teeth better than yourself, I doubt other people even notice any difference. And it's not that my teeth are gray or plaid or some weird color ... it's just that I don't believe they are living up to their absolute whitest.

So 14 days wearing the upper strips, then 14 days wearing the lower strips. Then we'll see just how goshdarned handsome I can actually be.

Giddy, I'm tellin' ya...

I also got a new Cell Phone last night.

And it's one of those cool James Bond flip phones too. Sure, I could have got an ABSOLUTELY FREE regular stiff phone that also serves as an ice scraper ... but I wanted one of those special secret agent phones that folds up to the size of a playing card.

It was $100.

Susie did NOT want to buy it for me. She could not understand why I wouldn't want a free phone and HAD to have a flip phone.

Well. Ummmm. I've got lots of reasons.

She wanted to hear them.


First, I've always had a fantasy that people look at me and say "You know...I bet he's a secret agent", but then when they don't see that flip phone, they quit thinking about my occupation and just go about their day. And I need a flip phone to keep that fantasy alive.

Second, I don't carry a purse. Not that I wouldn't like to carry a purse. I curse society every day for thinking that men don't need or require purses. I do. I have enough crap that I would lug around with me everywhere if I could. I'd brush my teeth nine times a day if I had a purse because I'd have my toothbrush right there. But since my wife DOES carry a purse, she has no problem sticking one of those non-folding phones in her purse and going about her day. I would have to put mine in my pocket where women would mistake it for an incredibly square erection. With a folding phone, I cram it in my pocket and VOILA! Nobody's the wiser. Especially me.

Third, there's nothing cooler than a guy getting done with a phone call and with a flick of the wrist, shutting the phone off. Whip! Bam! Phone's shut and off.

All three were very valid reasons in my book.

She stared at me and sighed.


The "WHEEEEEEEEE!!" in my lungs came very close to escaping, but I managed to contain myself rather well.

So the phone's charging now. Been charging all night long really. I wanted to take it to church and in the middle of the sermon, say "Excuuuuuse me Reverend Gerard, but I have a call to make". And then I was going to hit each button and make an exaggerated beeping sound with each button punched and call Papa John's or something and order a pizza. Just so everyone in church could go "Oooooo! Ahhhhhh!! Look at Uncle Bob, he's got him one of them there flipper phones!!"

And then after church, everyone would surround me, wanting to hold the phone and check out all its cool features like an address book and caller I.D. And I'd punch all their numbers in and add them to my address book to make them happy. But when I got home after church, I'd secretly remove them from my address book, because it only holds FOUR HUNDRED NUMBERS and I wouldn't want church members cluttering it up.

Oh. Did I say FOUR HUNDRED NUMBERS?? Yes, it holds four hundred numbers. careful around my shit. It's hot. Hot shit. Get it?

So now, I'm going to look like a secret agent with a sparkling Hollywood smile.

Frickin' Tom Cruise. That poor guy ain't gonna know what hit him, is he?

I also got some deodorant yesterday. Degree Sports Scent. So I'll even smell like a secret agent/Hollywood type.

I didn't think my news about the deodorant was as earth shattering as the cell phone/whitestrips news. That's why I put it at the end of the tirade about how great I am.

I wrote an insanely crappy recap of Ed yesterday morning. For the life of me, I could not get into Uncle Bob mode. I tried and tried but I think it was the fact that my teeth weren't their whitest coupled with the fact that people were blowing off my secret agent attitude as mere posing that held me back from being all that I could be.

Still, if you're bored, read it. Even if you don't watch the show, you might like it.

And for God's sakes ... sign my message boards while you're there. Even if it's just to tell me how wonderful I am, how white my teeth are or how cool my phone is. Just sign it. It might help if you said something about the show ... just say you love "Ed" even if you don't watch it. That way, I keep my gig there. And everything's tres cool between us.

Alright...gotta go hop in the shower and cram shampoo bottles up my booty for maximum pleasure.

Out peace.

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