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5:27 a.m. - 2001-08-24


Gay Wayne is a big gay hairy beast.

Granted, this is something I've known for quite some time, but at least he finally came tumbling out of the closet amidst a bunch of boxes full of Christmas decorations, a couple of tennis rackets, some umbrellas and a bunch of old tennis shoes.

I am going to have to rebuke all of his requests to come be gay with him because ... sorry boys...but I'm not gay.

I've never had any urge to roll around on satin sheets naked,holding another hairy man's body close to mine.

I've never had to fight the desire to have a ball gag stuffed in my mouth while various phallic symbols found their way up my poop chute.

I DO sing "Hello Dolly" in the shower every chance I get while seductively slinging my fat wet hips around, but that's neither here nor there. I don't think that's a sign of being gay as much as it's a sign of really knowing how to entertain a loofah.

So sorry Wayne. I can't be your dreamboat anytime soon.

BUT...if you were to win this powerball lottery thing, that could alllll change.

Keep that in mind, sweetie.

(I'm such a flirt...)

Like Gawain, I was asked "as a Diaryland celebrity" to help promote this new diary Unsent Letters.

Y' a Diaryland celebrity, life is a bit different for me, compared to those of you whose Diaryland existance is less-celebrity oriented.

Every morning when I sit down at the computer and bang out an entry, there's usually a spotlight fixed on me and my theme music is playing softly.

Guests like Martin Short, Chevy Chase and Yasmine Bleeth are camped out in my living room. And I have to wake them and we hobnob for a few minutes before I fix them all a healthy breakfast of Kool Aid and Pop Tarts.

I chauffeur myself around town in my 1995 Dodge Intrepid WITH CD player. But not just ANY CD player...a 12 disc changer, mind you...because I AM a Diaryland celebrity.

I go to work where I have to contain myself, because just like Clark Kent at the Daily Planet...nobody at work mentions me being a Diaryland celebrity. Sure...some know...but it's best kept under everyone's hat because I wouldn't want "special" treatment. You feeding me grapes and fanning me while I write the next big great Diaryland entry. That sort of thing.

My son...even though he's only nine months old, treats me like a Diaryland Celebrity. When he spits up, he does the best job he can to not spit up on me, because he knows I'll have a temper tantrum and have him fired as my son.

And of course...being a Diaryland celebrity has its perks. When I go to the grocery store, teenage boys will bag my groceries for me which is pretty cool. And when I go to the gas station and pull up in the full service lane, I don't even have to get out and pump my own gas. Some old man named Gus does it. One time he got a few gas droplets on my paint job as he pulled the hose out of the gas tank and I threatened to sic the Army on him. He cried for a few minutes, said some crap about having a family to feed, so I let him off the hook but reminded him not to do it again because I was UNCLE BOB...DIARYLAND CELEBRITY.

He kept apologizing and has apologized every time that I've had my gas pumped since...but it's good to keep him on his toes and let him think I'm going to have him fired each time. I do this by staring at him the entire time and dragging my thumb slowly across my throat like he's a dead man. I think he understands.

So yeah...being a Diaryland celebrity definitely is cool.

I wish you all could be Diaryland celebrities.

Sadly...somebody has to be the peon here.

And that certainly isn't me.

Because I'm a celebrity.

And as a celebrity, I'm called upon to help promote new diaries.

And when you really step back and assess the situation, that's really what it's all about. Helping the less fortunate, celebrity-less people.

In a way, I'm the Sally F'n Struthers of Diaryland.

By the way...all this crap has been sarcasm.

I'm sitting here right now in my underwear, my dirty shirt that I wore all day yesterday, three empty Coke cans in front of me and a cold washcloth that I'm having to put over my left eye which is hurting this morning. My back still hurts, my throat is sore and I'm craving a Kit Kat.

That doesn't make me a celebrity. That makes me gross.

So please...don't take any of that crap seriously.

And if you do, you're too dumb to read my diary. Go read Gay Wayne. He's more your level.


Sooooo...has anybody seen this MTV show "Dismissed"??

Or, as I like to call it, "Who Can Be The Bigger Whore"?

Last night was the first time I had seen it...I didn't even know it existed.

The basic premise is...Three people go out on a date that apparently takes up most of a day. It's either two men or women vying for the affection of one woman or man. At the end of the "date", the one person "dismisses" one of the opposite sex people so that it's now an official date and kills any chances of a pretty wild threesome.

So last night, the first part of the show was two women and one guy. The women were pretty catty with each other but that was probably for show. I dunno, I've never seen the crap before...remember??

So one woman is a fairly sexy lass...but you just KNOW she's opened those legs for more than one high school football team. She really needed a tattoo that ready "Whorey Tramp" on her forehead because that was the impression she was giving anyway...may as well announce it to the world.

The other girl was a bit plainer...still cute...and seemed sweeter but still had a bitch streak about her.

The guy was a doofus with a tan and a freaky haircut. Oh...and pierced nipples. And as we all know by now, if a 19 year old guy wants to get laid, all he has to do is pierce his nipples and cut his hair so he looks like a moron and he's got whorey tramps all over him.

So at first they go to this little amusement park place which was the plainer girl's "date". They race go-carts, etc. This really isn't the whorey girl's style as she'd much rather be having sex than racing a go-cart.

Both girls are given "time out" passes which they hand out to the other girl and she has to leave, giving the guy 20 minutes to get to know the girl a bit better.

So Whorey Tramp is really getting on Plain Girl's nerves while they eat some hot dogs at the go-cart track. So Plain Girl gives Tramp her Time Out pass and Tramp needs to leave Plain Girl and Doofus alone for 20 minutes while Plain Girl "works her magic".

Plain Girl ... after 20 minutes of being alone with Doofus, manages to slip her arm around his and hold his hand.

This is sweet and all...but is it going to help her win the date??

So after the go-cart fiasco, Whorey Tramp says "Now it's MY portion of the date" and she takes the three of them to "her" house (ie her parent's house) where there's a pretty cool swimming pool and hot tub awaiting the three of them in the middle of the night.

Whorey Tramp gives Doofus a massage and feeds him some pineapple from her mouth to his, and when the pineapple's gone, they keep sucking face. Meanwhile, Plain Girl is rethinking that whole "holding hand" tactic that she forced upon Doofus earlier in the day.

The three get in a hot tub and this whole thing starts taking on the trappings of a softcore porn of those late night Cinemax deals.

Whorey Tramp suggests they play Truth or Dare. So she asks Doofus T or D and he wisely picks Truth because he knows if he said Dare, the cameras woulda had to been shut off.

She asked if he could dress her up in anything, what would it be?

I was barely paying attention, but apparently something white.

Then Plain Girl asks and Doofus says "Dare".

She dares him to kiss her.

They kiss, so now he's kissed both girls.

At this point...Whorey Tramp wisely uses her "Time Out" pass and gets rid of Plain Girl for 20 minutes.

Yeah, you whorey tramp. Just as Plain Girl's getting her mack on, you toss her out of the Hot be EVIL!!!

So with Plain Girl gone, Whorey Tramp sits on Doofus' lap and starts stroking his thighs.

Doofus (unseen to the camera) has enough wood in his trunks to build a log cabin.

They make out for a while and when Plain Girl comes back, these two are wrapped around each other like a Bavarian pretzel.

Plain Girl probably sensed that had she acted like a dog in heat, she may have won the date.

It's time for Doofus to make his decision...he tells both of them that he had a great time and lists several fine points that both had...and he's decided to pick...(here comes the swerve!)....PLAIN GIRL!!

Plain Girl looks ecstatic and knows that she's gonna be gettin' some hot pierced nookie tonight.

Whorey Tramp is visibly pissed and kicks the new couple out of her pool, saying "You don't have to go home, but you've got to get the hell out of here".

The happy couple leaves the whore's house, where Plain Girl looks at the camera and says "She's jealous".


She just went on television and ruined any sort of reputation she would have ever had and STILL lost her man.

I dunno...maybe she ended up getting some sort of celebrity status over all this and is getting dates left and right from other guys with bad haircuts and ample piercings.


However much celebrity status she's achieved...she ain't no Diaryland celebrity.

And in the grand scheme of things...I'd rather be a Diaryland celebrity.

There's far less diseases spread this way.

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