UNCLE BOB DISLOCATES HIS FUNNY BONE

Ugh.

Oh...hi.

Y'know...I'm one lucky bastard. Each week, to earn a paycheck, I have to do ONE SINGLE THING. And that is ... write a column that's halfway humorous.

And each week ... I drag my heels like Sean Penn in "Dead Man Walking" when it comes time to write it.

Yesterday afternoon, I gave myself five hours to write the column.

I piddled.

I surfed.

I cleaned house.

I did not write my column.

I had TWO ideas for a column. One was for me to come up with NEW reality shows, ala "Survivor", except mine would be wacky and irreverant. Like sending people in to the Department of Motor Vehicles to get a car tag on the last day of the month, and see which actually got a tag and which ran from the building screaming.

I sat down to write it and kept hitting a blank wall. A very UNFUNNY blank wall.

So I got up and walked the dog in 100-plus heat, hoping to fry my brain to the point where I could maybe write something silly.

Didn't work.

A punk assed kid drove by with his car stereo blasting.

VOILA!!

I could write about punk assed kids who blast their stereos in a city where it's AGAINST THE LAW to play their car stereos loud.

Yep...we're one of the few cities in America that will fine or arrest you if you're cranking the tunes at earth-shattering decibels.

So I tried to sit down and write about that.

Nothing.

The funniest line I came up with was "Don't these kids realize that loud music will make them sterile?"

Ha ha.

Ho ho ho.

Oh boy. That is one knee slapper, fella, lemme tell ya.

So I got up this morning at 4 a.m., because...believe it or not...I'm funniest at 4 a.m., and tried to write a column.

Shitting broken glass would have been easier. For some reason ... I'm just not being too funny today.

Like I need to tell YOU that. You've made it this far in the diary entry without so much as a chuckle.

Anyway...I finished a VERY shabby column and feel better already. Hopefully, someone with bad eyesight will misread some of the words and the column will be funny to someone.

********************************

God, I'm tired.

I slept off and on from 11 p.m. to 4 a.m. last night. I must have woken up a dozen times and checked the clock, wondering when it would be time to get up and start writing.

I've been recruited to grill out some chicken at work today.

Deadline day.

The day when I normally sit at my desk and work feverishly non-stop until the paper is complete.

But today...I cook chicken.

I pleaded, bitched and protested NOT to have to grill the chicken on deadline day.

But ... let's face it ... yer Uncle Bob KICKS ASS when it comes to grilling chicken. And all my co-workers know it. So I have little choice but to throw myself an hour behind in my daily schedule and grill chicken.

WAIT!!! I just came up with a brilliant solution!!!

Of course...it concerns stuff at work that you guys wouldn't give a shit about and ....OW! OW!!! OWWWWW!!!

G-dammit!!!!!

I've been sitting here eating Salt and Vinegar potato chips (yes ... at 6 a.m.) and I just rubbed my eyes and now my eyes are watering like a sprinkler in the middle of a drought (told ya I couldn't find my funny bone this morning).

Damnation, this smarts...

Okay...they're semi-under control.

Shit...this hurts. I'm ending this entry now and going to go flush my eyes and then go walk the dog and say "yep" to the elderly couple who I'm sure will cross our path.

I'm outta here, dude.