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10:08:07 - 2001-02-27


I'm getting sick again.

This is fucking unreal. I'm soooo tired of being congested and disoriented.

It's bullshit. Bullshit, I'm tellin' ya.

I'll be fine for a week or so ... and then before I know it, I can't breathe, the back of my throat is screaming and my ass hurts.

...Don't ask.

Y'know ... I had the opportunity to surf the web last night, something I don't normally get a chance to do much anymore.

I read some diaries that I don't normally read last night.

And I've got to say ... peeps ... there's a WHOLE lot more morally offensive diaries out there then mine.

I sat there thinking, "How come I get all the shit when there's people out there talking worse shit than me?"

I'm not going to mention any names, because it's not my style to reprimand people in my diary, thus starting a hate war against them like other people have done against me. Because I know what it feels like to have people make me feel like shit over something I wrote describing MY feelings in MY diary.

The odd part was ... I found these diaries through a few people that have disowned me for being too cruel/nasty/mean-spirited.

But these same people that disowned me are gushing over these other diaries that ... quite frankly ... made Uncle Bob a little queasy.

It's a funny world we live in. Some people in Diaryland have some really fucked-up perspectives.

I just felt the need to mention that.

I don't feel like going to work today. I hate Tuesdays. It's the only day of the week when I bust my ass the entire day. I don't mind being busy the entire time, but I don't need the stress that my drunken boss heaps on me.

I don't even feel like going into detail about it. I'm tired, I don't feel good, and I'm just not in the mood.

Christ. How obvious is it that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed?

My boy Jamie and I went to Pizza Perfect yesterday ... the same restaurant I mentioned in Sunday's entry that wasn't all that impressive.

Jamie wanted to go because he has this pipe dream of opening up a pizza delivery joint where he lives which is out in the country. He wanted to sample this new pizza and see if he could pick up any pointers from the place.

He talked to the manager for about ten minutes about opening his own place. The manager tried very delicately to talk him out of it, explaining that when you open up a delivery place with maybe 20 houses in your delivery area, chances are pretty good you won't stay open a week.

Jamie's hellbent on doing it though.

Have I mentioned that Jamie is quite possibly one of the dumbest people I know personally? I haven't?? Okay...well he is.

I gave Jamie the name I'd like to see him run with ... "Pizzaholics". It's the ultimate pizza for the ultimate pizza fan.

Think of the commercials...

"I love pizza. I'm a pizzaholic. That's why I get my pizza from Pizzaholics."

The only thing I'm worried about is how offended alcoholics would be by the name. A little? A lot? Not at all??

"Worried about".

Heh. this shit is keeping me up at night.

I was talking to my boy Eddie Lavoie the other day. He was telling me that after our night on the town the other night, his girlfriend Ramona was hungover like a big dog the next day.

He also told me his bill was a hundred bucks.

Jamie was telling me that she was in the bathroom for a long time at the Brew Pub, getting sick.

I think that's one of the reasons I don't drink much anymore ... I got tired of paying good money for the golden opportunity to vomit my stinking guts out and feel like goose shit the next day.

My bid for being "The Biggest Rat In Town" is shaping up quite nicely, thank you for asking.

Yesterday I enlisted one of the local radio shows to support me and help me out.

I also got the unlimited use of a sound system and mobile D.J. unit, in case I throw a block party.

I possibly got a limo at my disposal.

And I got someone who has conducted a "Mafia Hit Night" with local restaurants in the past and raised $40,000 in one night to agree to help me plan it out.

I'm feeling pretty good about this whole deal. I could very well be the first ever media person to actually win this contest.

I've received a few emails from members of Uncle Bob's Army asking if there was some way that you people could contribute as well.

Of course ... that would be awesome. By no means do I want to push it on you guys. But if you'd like to help me as well as the American Cancer Society out with a tax-deductible donation ... who am I to argue?

As I find out more about the contest, I'll be sure to pass it along here. And if you want to contribute...great. If not...that's cool too. I know money's tight for a lot of you out there and I don't expect everyone to cough up a hundred bucks apiece to go to a great cause.

But if you don't ... why...ol' Uncle Bob just may tell you all to kiss his ass and mosey on out of Diaryland forever. THEN what diary would you read each morning with your morning coffee, hmmmm???


Scare tactics.

They've always worked for me.

I got called yesterday to judge yet another contest. This time I'm judging some high school art exhibit next Friday.

Ah well. Beats digging ditches for a living.

That's really all I can think of to tell you guys this morning. Sorry this is so un-Bob like today. I really feel lousy, I'm tired, I just want this day to be over with and it's only 5:30 a.m.

Bullshit, I'm tellin' ya.


DAVID GARZA: "Discoball World"

I really dug this song a few years ago. Haven't heard it lately. It's a cool little pop song.


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

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