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5:32 a.m. - 2001-08-06



Tropical Storm Barry is heading my wayyyyy!!!

OMG!! OMG!!!

What do I do, what do I do???

Okay...I've gathered all my valued possessions in one spot and I'm ready to flee if need be.

My valued possessions are as follows...

1) My copy of Playboy with Belinda Carlisle in it.

2) A pack of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

3) My Radiohead "OK Computer" CD.

4) My ECW t-shirt that says "Politically Incorrect and Damned Proud Of It" (in case I have to go to an emergency safe place and people start bothering me, wanting a peanut butter cup or to gawk at my Playboy or something, I can just point to my shirt and growl)

5) My videotaped copy of "Showgirls" (I taped it off pay per view and I'll be damned if I'm going to let $3.99 just slide out of my hands like that)

6) Some pipe cleaners.

7) My autographed picture of Burt Ward, "Robin" of the original "Batman" show.

8) My Captain Kirk doll, with all the original accessories.

9) My most recent catalog from Columbia House.

10) Some paper towels.

As you can see, I'm pretty prepared for this tropical storm.

"Why," you ask??


Actually, this storm is probably the biggest, wussiest storm we could have POSSIBLY gotten.

It's not even a freakin' hurricane. How sad is that?

All day yesterday, once they discovered that Barry was moving in our direction and not New Orleans, the newspeople have been doing some SERIOUS freaking out.

It's been kinda amusing except for one newscaster.

...A local newscaster named....Barry.

Barry thinks this is his 15 minutes of fame. For the last 3-4 days, each newscast has kicked off with news on Tropical Storm Barry.

And for the last 3-4 days, we've been subjected to Barry making the absolute LAMEST quips about the storm ever.

To wit:

FEMALE NEWSCASTER: "Tropical Storm Barry is moving our way."


FEMALE NEWSCASTER: "The storm is moving at a speed of seven miles an hour, dumping several inches of rain as it moves."

NEWSCASTER BARRY: "I'm a dumper!"

FEMALE NEWSCASTER: "So far, no injuries have been reported."

NEWSCASTER BARRY: "They didn't actually name the storm after ME...but it's still named Barry, and so am I!! Whooooo!! Look at me!! I'm a tropical storm!!"

FEMALE NEWSCASTER: "That's enough, Barry."

NEWSCASTER BARRY: "Whooooo!! Watch out!! Here I come!! Yeeeeeeeeee!!"

I swear, this guy has turned into a total doofus over the name of this storm. It's downright embarrassing to watch the guy.

The eye of the storm is scheduled to fly over us later this afternoon, which is always pretty cool. I've only been through one other hurricane (even though this is a tropical still has an eye of the storm which is s'posed to be intense), and that one really kicked into overdrive in the middle of the night. So at least this one will get ugly in the afternoon where you can watch it.

I love storms. And even though this isn't a hurricane, it's still supposed to be a pretty cool storm.


Y'know what's pretty awkward?

...When Andy falls asleep in a woman's arms other than his mom's.

See...Andy's a baby. He doesn't know that you're really NOT supposed to just chill out on some woman's boobies.

But he does. He uses the boobs as his fleshy pillows and passes out instantly on them.

Okay...he's a kid. That's almost to be expected.

But then...when the woman's ready to give him back to Daddy...the woman NEVER hands him to Daddy. The woman sits there, waiting for Daddy to reach down, gently pull him off her chest, and cradle him in Daddy's arms.


I was pretty much raised not to grab womens' hooters in public. Not even my wife's.

So because of this, I've got a small problem when I accidently touch womens' breasts in public.

Take yesterday for instance.

I go to get Andy out of the church nursery and he's fallen asleep in Michelle's arms.

Michelle is a local college student who's in charge of the church nursery. A very pretty young girl, very clean cut, very prim and proper.

...Andy's drooling all over her chest, sound asleep.

Michelle says he's been asleep for a while. She unwraps her arms from around him and waits for me to pull my kid off of her.

Andy now weighs almost 21 lbs.

I HAVE to reach around his belly, which is pressing against her chest and pry him off of her slowly.

Thus...I HAVE to make some kinda contact with Michelle's breasts in order to do this.

I feel bad about it and try to do this as gently and quickly as possible, without offending Michelle or embarrassing myself.

I take my right hand and slide it between Andy's belly and Michelle's left boob.

Michelle says "oh!"

I want to die.

I slide my other hand on the other side of Andy and now I've got Andy in my hands and Michelle's boobs rubbing against the backs of my hands. I begin to lift Andy up, but Andy's like a sack of potatoes. He doesn't want to move.

So I'm gently prying and ...and...and...either Michelle started getting excited or...or....well...she was getting excited over the boobage massage. There's no two ways about it.

This isn't the first time this has happened either. This happens quite a bit. Every woman in church wants to hold Andy when he's asleep and whenever they're ready to give him back, Susie's nowhere to be found.

Maybe they don't see a problem with me brushing all over their boobs. Maybe this is something that transcends sexual feelings. I dunno.

But I'm a guy.

And when I'm feeling strange boobs ... this is something that I don't just forget about ten seconds later.

In the last nine months, I've touched more boobs than I did for the first 38 years of my life.

Most of them have been disgusting Grandma or sister-in-law boobs. But every now and then it's the college coed or the young mother boobies. makes me uncomfy to touch your boobs. So from here on out...please ... just hand Andy over to me. He won't wake up, I promise.

I just can't keep touching boobs and pretending like it's no big deal.

It IS a big deal.

I'm a man.

It is my solitary goal to touch boobies.

But y'all are making it too easy these days.

So knock it off.

Thank you.


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