I'M BEGINNING TO THINK THIS RECORD IS BROKEN

Y'know what REALLY sucks??

I'm getting sick again.

This time, I have a pretty good feeling that it's only a cold...not a sinus infection. Because my sinuses don't feel like they've had cement poured in them.

But I have a wicked cough, sore throat and runny nose.

I JUST FUCKING KICKED MY SINUS INFECTION LAST FUCKING WEEK.

This year's strain of cold/flu/sinus infection crap has kept me in stitches, mainly because it has struck other families first and provided me with loads of guffaws.

I've watched other families pass this illness back and forth between them, Daddy having the cold, giving it to baby, who gives it to mama who gives it back to Daddy ... etc.

Our preacher and his family have had the same cold for several months now because somebody ALWAYS has it and passes it to someone else. It's like a running joke.

Now ... the joke ain't so funny when it's Uncle Bob's family getting the sickness and everybody slowly getting better only to be zapped by it once again.

Maybe none of this makes sense.

Maybe it's the Comtrex talking once again.

Dammit.

This sucks.

Want something ELSE that sucks??

I'm going to have to talk about my dog's ass once again. Mainly because she's STILL in the doggie hospital.

I came home yesterday and before I put the key in the front door, I could smell my dog OUTSIDE the home.

I opened the door and the stench was overwhelming. Maggie was greeting me at the door with her tail down.

I managed to lift her tail up and check her out.

My God.

As much as I revel in the fact that I can gross each and every one of you out with what I saw, I'm actually going to show some restraint and not go into detail.

Let's just say ... her ass has been shaved to the skin and there was bloody diahrrea ALL OVER her back side...legs, paws, ass, tail ... etc.

It was DRIPPING off of her.

I immediately called the vet and asked if it was okay if I bathed her because of all her stitches back there.

He said bring her to him ... he'd clean her up free of charge.

Can't beat that. No sirree, Bob.

Oh. Except that means you'll have to put her in your car. Which could get covered in bloody dog shit.

...Which I did. And which it did.

I took her to the vet, he took one look at her and said "Let me keep her overnight. She needs a stool firmer."

Duh.

So my poor baby dog had to stay overnight in a place that she absolutely hates.

I felt bad doing it.

But damn if my house doesn't smell 100% dogshit-free this morning.

Now for something that will shock and amaze you.

I took the five dollars back to Arby's.

Yes ... your dear old Uncle Bob has a conscience.

To be honest ... five bucks isn't the end all, be all for me. And had it been more than five bucks I probably would have driven straight back to Arby's and given it back then.

At the time, we were in a hurry and five bucks didn't seem like that big a deal.

Anyway, I was driving past there yesterday and figured I just wanted to see what would be said.

I whipped into the parking lot, got out and went inside.

I walked up to the counter and asked to see the manager. I told the manager what happened and she thanked me and said that the girl's drawer had been $7.60 short.

I wasn't about to cough up an extra $2.60 to help the dumbass out. But I contributed my share.

I think they were a little shocked that I brought it back. I guess that doesn't happen a lot.

And even though I coulda been walking around with five extra smackerooies ... it felt good to give it back.

I've done some pretty dishonest, mean things in my past.

I guess I'm just trying to make up for those things.

I had been looking forward to seeing "Survivor" all day yesterday, which, in layman's terms, means "I don't have a life."

As SOON as the show started, Andy decided to get fussy.

And I mean CRYING JAGS. He wouldn't shut up.

When he gets like this, for some reason Susie cannot calm him down.

She is his rock. She is the one who can soothe him like no other. But when he gets to the screaming stage, she's helpless.

That's where IIIIII come in handy.

The kid melts when he's in my arms. I've learned that you have to walk him around the house, pat his back gently but firmly and sing "Rock A Bye Baby" to him as quietly as possible.

The only drawback is ... you have to KEEP doing this. If you stop, the crying starts again.

So ... I spent 50 minutes of that hour walking him around and catching glimpses of the show.

I saw they kicked off Mad Dog. Man...this is a ruthless bunch of people this go-round. During the tribal council, Mad Dog made a point of saying how she had bonded so well with Tina, blah blah blah.

Who does Tina vote off?? Mad Dog.

I think it's okay though. The old lady wanted to go home. I think I'd be the same way. If I was on Survivor and had to vote someone off, you're damned skippy I'd be up there scrawling "Uncle Bob" as fast as I could on a piece of paper, staring at that camera and saying "G-damn... I sure hope I get enough votes this week to get the hell outta here."

Send my ass to Regis. I'd much rather make my million bucks using my mind and not giving up my dignity, morals and sanity.

Then again ... I'd be lucky to walk away with a thousand bucks if I got in Regis' hot seat. I'd probably crumble like week-old cornbread when it came time to answer questions.

Wow. I just wasted the last 20 minutes trying to get the wife awake.

She had been asleep since 8 p.m. last night. Andy woke her up at midnight wanting to eat, so as she put it "she got two four hour naps."

It was next to impossible to get her to wake up this morning. Every time I said "Mama get up" she just laid there.

Word of advice to the guys out there ... if your wife refuses to wake up in the morning, slap her cheek with your dingle schmangle a couple of times.

It works wonders.

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Everclear: "Wonderful".
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