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2:02 p.m. - 2001-12-11


I've spent all day calling people across the country, trying to set up interviews with them.

And lemme tell ya ... the most obnoxious people I've spoken to today are in .... drumroll please ... Philadelphia, Pennsylvaniaaaaaa!

I'm not saying everyone in Philly is obnoxious. I'm only counting every single g-damned person that I spoke to from there.

I had one lady actually sigh after she asked if she could take a message and I said "Yes please".

It was a sigh like "Oh Jesus ... let me pretend that I'm writing this message down."

Because I think to a lot of people, I sound like a telemarketer when I call. The fact is ... these companies have already given us thousands and thousands of dollars, and I'm calling to give them the service that they've already paid for.

Still...people don't want to call me back. Ever.

For now though, I've got people in Oakland, California, Philadelphia, Boise and Eugene Oregon all wanting me to come to their cities and meet with them face to face. So the Uncle Bob Tour 2002 is already gearing up.

I had to quit calling people for a little bit because I was getting tongue tied. At one point I said "shitty" instead of "city" to one secretary. That's when I thought it'd be a good time to give my tongue a rest.

I found six bucks in the parking lot today which was pretty cool.

I was walking back into the building after lunch and there was six bucks right there on the ground. I bent down, scooped them up and kept walking.

Now, I could give the money back to the rightful owner. But how the hell do I know who the rightful owner is? I guess I could put a sign up "Lost six dollars?? I've got it." But then I'd have every Tom, Dick and Harry banging down my door wanting the contents of my wallet.

So I'm going to have to employ the "Finders Keepers" rule here. It's now my six bucks because it's in my pocket.

Nanny nanny.

Boo boo.

I think Taliban soldier John Walker needs to join a boy band.

I think he could be America's newest heartthrob.

And I don't even think they need to clean him up now. Just put him out there as is...filthy dirt patches all over his face, long straggly lice-infested beard ... let the guy rock out.

He'd have the little girl's screaming.

I'd like to think they'd be screaming out of lust and not sheer unadulterated fear. But you know...screaming's screaming at a boy band concert.

You know...heh...I forgot I was writing this entry. I got sidetracked with some phone calls, then some people in my office then some other things and I just looked at my screen and saw "Diaryland" down at the bottom and thought "Oh hell...forgot about ya, didn't I D-land?"

I forgot to mention something else this morning about my boy. I was so wrapped up in telling you about his fear of the announcer's voice on "Weakest Link" that I forgot to tell you about his stupid little fake laugh that he does now.

It's just an obnoxious braying sound. He smiles real big and goes "AH HA HA HA HA HA!!" and then immediately goes right back to serious mode.

He's only one and he's become a master of the sarcastic fake laugh.

That's my boy.

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The End Of Uncle Bob - 12:28 p.m. , 2009-02-19

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That Sinking Feeling - 6:09 a.m. , 2008-10-28

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