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1:03 p.m. - 2001-08-21


Sooo...there's a buncha namby pamby kids in America that don't want the movie "Bubble Boy" to come out this weekend.

These kids all say that "Bubble Boy" pokes fun at kids with immunity-deficient syndrome or something that sounds even more terrifying. I dunno about you, but the last thing I want to do is hang out with a buncha kids who have no immunity.

A simple sneeze can kill these kids. How much fun is that?

ME: "Aaaachooo!"

KID: "Ack! You just killed me!"

ME:"Hey Wimpy Boy! Shouldn't you be in your bubble?"

I sure as hell wouldn't want that kinda grief hanging over my head.

KID'S PARENTS: "Why'd you have to go and sneeze on our kid?"

ME: "I didn't sneeze ON him. I sneezed. Your little bubble kid shoulda known to duck or something."

KID'S PARENTS: (sniffling)"Rest in peace our little bubble child."

ME: "Yeah kid. Don't let the maggots bite."

Anyway...what the kids SHOULD be protesting is how damned lame this movie looks.

I've seen the previews for this film about 12,315 times on television this month. Let me see if I have the plotline straight...

Bubble Boy leaves his home in search of his one true love. He spends the next 90 minutes getting hit by various vehicles and ends up sailing through the air about 63 dozen times.

The end.

Excuse me...but I've had hemerhhoids funnier than that.



Hootie and the Blowfishroids??


Regardless, I won't be standing in line for "Bubble Boy" this weekend. And it's not out of protest for the little weakling kids who can die from a handshake. I just have a thing about seeing crappy movies.

Okay...I admitted that I exaggerated some on my earlier entry about my co-workers and how they're all just so awful because they won't take the time to come sit in my office and say "Hello" over and over again until I kick them out.

I laid my cards on the table there.

But I'm NOT exaggerating when I say ... I'm sick and tired of these jerkweeds who won't call me back for my job.

Y'see...I spend a lot of time calling people and trying to arrange interviews.

These people have paid thousands of dollars to be interviewed.

Then...when I try to call them, I can NEVER get ahold of them...I'm often deferred to their voice mail.

I leave a message and tell them to call me so we can set up a date and time for the interview.

Then I wait.

And wait.

And stare at the walls some.

Maybe surf the internet. Catch my diary up.

Return some emails from people telling me just how damned much they love me and how I've inspired them to drop everything that was once considered important in their lives and start up their own diaries because I make my diary seem like oh, so much fun.

Then I glance at my phone out of my peripheal vision to see if I might have a voice mail and somehow just didn't hear the phone ringing.

And I never do.

Right now, I've got about 10 people who've agreed to be interviewed that won't return my calls.

I did manage to get through to one guy who agreed to an interview on Thursday morning.

That totally rocked my socks. Because now I'll have something to do on Thursday. WHEEEEE!!!

Meanwhile the other nine are avoiding me like the plague and I can't figure out why. I've talked to my editors about it and they've given me some good advice (NEVER leave voice mails...they won't get returned).

But I would think that if I just wrote a check for several thousand dollars to be interviewed for a book, I'd want to be interviewed for that freakin' book toot sweet.


So that's my agenda for the day...stare at my phone and wait for it to ring.

It just blows my mind...that's all.

I just bit off my pinky fingernail and it accidently fell between the keys on my keyboard and is now resting at the bottom of the keys.

I'm sure someone will be in here in a minute to smack me in the head and call me a fingernail biting dumbass.

Therefore, I'd better wrap this puppy up.

See ya tomorrow, space cadets.

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