THE KING HITS A SPEED BUMP ON THE ROAD TO GREATNESS

Do you know what I hate?

I hate going on Napster to download one simple little song and then being hit on by all these geeks who want to download my music.

Now, for the next two hours, everything is going to be moving at a dead man's pace because some jerk wants my cover of REM doing U2's "One".

On the one hand, I should be flattered that someone would go to the trouble of downloading one of my Mp3s when I have a lowly 33.6 modem.

But on the other hand, I have better things to do with my time.

As I am King of Diaryland.

*sniff*

(Uncle Bob sits silently still for a few moments and then brushes some imaginary lint off his shoulder, straightens his crown and velvet robe and then shifts uncomfortably on his throne and clears his throat a few times)

Well...I AM SO KING!

I know. You're probably sitting there thinking..."But Uncle Bob...I always thought (fill in the blank) was King of Diaryland...."

Bah. That schlepp?? I have VOMITED bigger chunks than that simpleton.

I know. Now you're probably sitting there thinking ... "But Uncle Bob...who died and made you King of Diaryland?"

First off...the lead singer for Morphine died last summer and I wish you would quit bringing it up. And second, my boy Mattie Gee made me King of Diaryland.

Actually...we were surfing the web at the office today, me and Mattie, and he wanted to check out this Diaryland thing that I had been babbling incessantly about for the last six weeks. So he checked it out and then he said I was King of Diaryland and that was it.

.........................................

(Uncle Bob grows fidgety and begins staring at the floor, shuffling his feet back and forth)

.........................................

Alright ... FINE....yes...I had him pinned face down on the floor with his arms twisted behind his back and YES he was screaming "YOU'RE THE KING OF DIARYLAND!! YOU'RE THE KING OF DIARYLAND!! YOU ARE GREAT AT EVERYTHING!! OH GOD, PLEASE DON'T BREAK MY ARMS, BOB, OH DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN, PLEASE LET GO, OH GOD, OH GOD, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY, YOU SICK AND DEMENTED BASTARD?!?!WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO ....OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!"

....But that counts....doesn't it??

Actually he was impressed by some of my writings. It's kinda funny...because he had always just read what I wrote in my humor column.

Funny thing about newspapers these days...they don't like it when the humor column contains the "F" word.

Not that I use it all the time in real life. Well...I do. But I know when NOT to use it. I don't use it around women until I know them well and know they won't be offended or around men I don't know or in social situations.

Or in court... I can't remember saying "fuck" to a judge.

Said it to a cop one time. "Holy Fuck!" when he took a curve really fast while I was in the back seat and I went slamming into the door on the other side of the car.

And no...you dirt-dishing freaks... I was NOT under arrest. Years ago, I got to ride around on a Friday night with two cops from 11 p.m.- 7 a.m.

God...now THAT'S an entry I'll get around to writing...man....talk about fun.

It was like eight hours of Fox's "COPS" in your FACE baby!!!

And...coincidentally ... the entire night that I rode with the cops was filmed for an episode of our local edition of "COPS" which I still have on tape. At times, you see me at crime scenes in the background, going over evidence with cops.

Heh.

I had SUCH a blast that night. God.

Alright...where was I....tangent time is over...everyone back in the pool....

Oh yes...me...the King of Diaryland.

Anyway...I was going to finish my list of Diaryland people that I think are much more talented than me and who need to die in order for me to finally feel secure here in the raping and pillaging of this throne.

But dammit...there's just so MANY of them out there.

I started to make a list...and there were 62 names of diaries that I check AT LEAST once a week if not every day.

I'm pathetic.

...ORRR I'm highly entertained by some innovative and fresh writings by some of the most talented writers I have ever come across that beat anything you can find elsewhere on the web, magazines, newspapers or books.

(Uncle Bob pulls the handkerchief out of his coat pocket, dabs the shit off his nose, secretly slides the handkerchief under your butt when you're not looking and continues)

Sooooo...something NEW has to come about...

Ya see...to be King of Diaryland...well...it's gonna take something special.

Obviously...I can't kill ALL of the writers more talented than I. First off ... I mean...what judge is going to listen to that shit?

JUDGE: "How do you plead, Uncle Bob?"

ME: "Guilty your honor."

JUDGE: "Why'd you do it son?"

ME: "Because they kicked ass all over me and I could never be King of Diaryland with them in my path."

Uh-huh. Yep. Oh ... that'll fly alright...

Hell...I'd be the newest cast member in HBO's "Oz". Just call me Pansy McButtfuck.

So ... I can't kill you all.

Although...ohhhh...some days....I could just STRANGLE some of you.....

Anywhoooo....I'm going to study HTML and re-do this page.

Keep in mind ... I don't know CRAP about HTML.

I can do this , this , this and this .

But that's it.

Keep in mind ... I DON'T WANT to do this. I know NOTHING about HTML, I have no books on the subject matter, and no patience in learning new things.

Why...if I had my way ... one of you dear friends would concoct me a template that just REEEKED of Uncle Bob.

Something cool...unique...fabulous...and with enough room for 62 links.

Something that would keep people coming back for more so I wouldn't have to kill others just so I can be better than them.

Besides...that is soooo "Jawbreaker" ...

Alas...my life is doomed to a boring maroon template.

Nothing fancy like all the cool diaries.

Made by people who are HTML Gods and Goddesses.

Who probably don't have the time, gumption or fuckin' genuine CARE to help Uncle Bob out.

*sigh*

I guess I'd better start working on this whole new look....

*sigh*

I hope you guys like blinking text a lot.

*sigh*

You know...if somebody made me a template and I liked it...and I used it...why...I might just put their name in big bold blinking text at the bottom.

See ya later....

*sigh*

(Uncle Bob slowly begins walking away into the darkness. He stops briefly, slowly looks over his left shoulder at you with his puppy dog eyes, sighs one last time, turns back around and walks into the darkness of HTML Hell for Newbies Who Didn't Have Access To Computers When They Were Schoolage and Can't Help It and Are Trying But Dammit, It's Just So Frustrating)

*have I sighed lately?*

P.S. I like black.

P.S.S. But not blue text on black. Who the hell can read that shit without a decoder, hmmmmm???

P.I.S.S. I don't really consider myself the King of Diaryland. That is a joke. Please don't think ... "What an obnoxious arrogant asshole! Anybody who thinks that highly of themselves really needs to be taken down a notch or two". It's a joke people.

A joke.

But...you know the template thing....

(Bob discretely pulls a wad of bills out of his front pocket and starts peeling them off)....