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09:58:55 - 2000-06-14


Hey you!

It's 5:55 a.m. and I've been running around for two hours already trying to get things ready for the new modem, cable and phone guy.

Busy day...busy day....

I have to order three PPVs this morning to use up these free PPV coupons that my "old" cable company gave me.

Right now I'm taping "Three Kings".

Then...I have to choose between "The Sixth Sense", "Stuart Little" and "Superstar".

...I have a feeling "Superstar" will be left in the cold.

I'm not positive on my new email address ... but if y'all have the insatiable desire to email me, use, I'm sure I'll get the email. Don't use my personal email addy that some of you may already have, cherish and fantasize over. That puppy's going out the window like chicken bones in about six hours.

I've nervous about changing internet providers. I've gotten to where I hate Mindspring...but I also hate change.

...I'm such a wuss.

Had TWO pieces of bad news yesterday.

First, a friend of mine's daughter was killed in a car accident. She was 17. The driver of the car lived, but the two passengers died. I haven't seen this friend in probably ten years, but it's still pretty sad.

Then, I found out a cousin of mine has lung cancer. He's pretty devastated by this.

Alright...cancer is no laughing matter. I'm tactful enough to respect that.

But...when you smoke for 30 years straight....HELLO????

When the doctor takes a look at your lungs that look like rotten grapes and says "You have lung cancer, Smokey the Bear"....then dammit...TAKE IT LIKE A MAN.

What the hell do smokers expect when this happens??

"Oh no....not can *I* have lung cancer??"

Gee pal...might be those two packs a day that you've been smoking for 30 years. I'm no psychic, but I bet they had SOMETHING to do with this.

It's like if somebody bungee jumps every day and then one day his ankles slip out of the noose and he's instant sidewalk soup.


I've never been a daredevil or risk taker. I'm just not. I have no interest in trying things like hang gliding or shark teasing.

No thanks. I'll just sit over here and keep leading this boring life, thanks.

But at least I'll HAVE a life to ponder.

The human body can only take so much abuse. Two packs of cigarettes a day for 30 years is GOING to catch up with you eventually.

My parents both smoke. So when Dad had his aneurysm last month, I KNEW he'd be okay.


Because he's going to die of cancer. I already know this. That's what heavy smokers die from.

(Dad has since stopped smoking cold turkey. I'm proud of him, but it may be too little too late at this stage in his life)

I've smoked about ten packs of cigarettes in my life. The first pack was to impress my friends at 16.

The last nine packs I used as a comedy prop.

Heh...I guess I never told y'all this. I don't know HOW this one slipped through the cracks.

Back in 1986, I had an alter ego...Uncle Buddy.

I was a club deejay at the time and was getting burned out on it.

So one day, while sitting in the parking lot of Walmart, waiting for Susie to come back out, an idea hit me.

What if I showed up for work in clown makeup and a clown suit tonight? And I told everyone that the regular DJ couldn't make it, so they called Uncle Buddy to spin records tonight?

It just might work.

Uncle Buddy was the world's meanest clown. This was YEARS before Homey the Clown hit the scene, mind you.

I made fun of people's dancing. I'd get on the microphone and just badmouth everyone on the dance floor in a gravelly voice with a cigarette dangling from my lips.

"Hey...Tubby...try not to shake the building while you're sweating over the Electric Slide."

"Who taught you how to dance, bud? Christopher Reeve?"

"Look everybody...there's a prime example why drunks shouldn't dance."

That kinda stuff.

And the audience dug it big time. It was almost like they WANTED Uncle Buddy to abuse them. It was a badge of honor when the Budster ragged your ass in front of the others.

Uncle Buddy was a big success. I kept the crowds entertained and bewildered at the same time and it injected new life into my stifled occupation.

Think about it. We all get tired of our jobs at one point. Wouldn't it be nice to hide behind a mask for eight hours and let people REALLY know how you felt as you just whined and bitched about everything you wanted to whine and bitch about?

It sure beat the hell outta therapy.

Management wanted me to keep doing Uncle Buddy for a while. I agreed to do Uncle Buddy on occasion...but not every night.

A) Wearing a big red afro wig each night would get to be annoying.

B) Not to mention a ton of makeup and a hot body suit.

So...Uncle Buddy was brought out of the closet about once a month. Sometimes on a busy Friday night, I'd announce that I wouldn't be able to make it tomorrow night, but Uncle Buddy would be filling in for me.

And the buzz would start amongst the crowd...Uncle Buddy's coming....

And sure as shit...we'd pack 'em in on Saturday night. Uncle Buddy, I'd stand there chain smoking all night.

Salem Menthols, because they has a slight minty taste to them.

But I never inhaled. Maybe that's why I never got addicted.

I know nicotine is tough to let go of, my little smoker friends.

But my cousin...42 years dying.

And when your doctor tells you that you have lung cancer and a year to live...don't act all shocked.

You did it to yourself.

What the hell did you expect to happen, you moron?

I'll try to act all shocked and sad when you tell me you're dying.

But c' HAD to know cigarettes would be the death of you...right?

Bottom line...quit smoking, people. Uncle Bob doesn't smoke and just look how cool he is...



Man...sorry about the bummer of an entry. I really DID have a funny entry ready for today.

But bad news begats bad entries.

I SWEAR to you ... you'll get yer chuckles and giggles soon.

Maybe later today as I'm surfing my SUPER FAST CABLE CONNECTION!!!!


(cough, cough, cough, gasp, cough...)

....Damned Uncle Buddy and his smokes....

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