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16:11:29 - 2000-04-12

(Uncle Bob's Diary is an adult diary. If you are not an adult, please go somewhere else now. If you are under the age of 18, and "get" can stay but you make me nervous. I wouldn't want my kids reading my diary...and I don't think your parents would appreciate you reading this diary either. Thank yewwwwww.)


So the wife comes to pick me up and it's off to the hospital to see our first ultrasound.

While in the waiting room, we had fun staring at the upright monkeys we call citizens in Alabama.

One was actually a military guy, so he probably wasn't from Alabama. And ... he probably wasn't really ignorant. Probably just shell-shocked. Because he talked VERY loud.

All about his semen specimen.


I wanted to bark "Hey, Uncle Pervy...there's ladies present here...Ya wanna cut the pillow talk down to a dull roar?"

I had to find something to occupy my ears other than this guy's masturbation techniques ... so I asked Susie if she was worried she might crap on the labor table and we just made small talk amongst ourselves, trying to drown out Ludwig Von Spermbank.

Then this really ugly lady came in with a darling baby.

Ugly people do have the cutest babies. That's a scientific fact.

Then...once the kid hits 2 or so, he gets those ugly genes kickin' into high gear and he turns out just as ugly as the parents.

It's true! It's true!

Anyway...this ugly lady sits there for a few minutes, trying to play with her child. But I noticed she was really scaring her poor darling child who sat there thinking..."That's me in a few years??"

The receptionist speaks up and says "Mrs. Dumbass...your appointment isn't until tomorrow."

Mrs. Dumbass sits there for a second and tried to gain her ugly composure. She then said "I'm sorry" and left.

I told Susie that musta been a huge pain in the ass...having to get the kid all gussied up, loading up the diaper bag and all and then having to turn around, go home and do it all over again tomorrow. I mean...hello, Mrs. Dumbass??? It's called a CALENDAR...

Susie agreed. We high fived and I accidently dislocated her shoulder.

After popping her shoulder back into place (she was SUCH a wimp about it too), I pulled her up off the floor and we went back to the ultrasound room.

A good looking blonde was doing the ultrasounding.

The blonde told my wife to get up on the seat/bed thing.

Susie did.

The blonde told her to undo and pull down her pants.

Susie did.

...All the way off

She then kicked her panties off and into the blonde's face and began grinding her hips seductively.

Meanwhile, I started rubbing my crotch like it was a genie's bottle, pinching my nipples and moaning.

The blonde acted all disgusted and shit and told my wife to put her pants back on and to only pull them down a few inches above her pubic line.

"What pubic line??" I shouted as I zipped myself back up, and then high fived Susie a second time, this time fracturing her elbow.

Alright...fine...we'll skip the malarkey and get straight to the real story...

She started rubbing this camera all over my wife's gut and there it was.

It had eight legs and antennae.

"I'm gonna be E.T.'s father?!?" I screamed in mock horror.

"That's her spastic colon," the nurse said. "I haven't found the baby yet."

Soon enough, she found the little blob.

Two arms. Two legs. And some BIG ASSED holes where its eyes are going to be someday.

"Isn't it beautiful," my wife said.

"It looks like Ray Charles," I said glumly.

The nurse sensed tension. I debated whether to have a high five fest with everyone in the room just to prove I was kidding, but decided not to.

(And by the way ... since when were several photographers needed for close up shots of my wife's coochie during an ultrasound???)

I gotta say...I was impressed with the "Uncle Bob Jr. Show".

Until I spied the VCR underneath the TV.

"That's not our baby!! That's some tape you've got running. WE'RE NOT PREGNANT!!! WE'RE NOT PREGNANT!!! SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE!!!"

At that point, I decided to break down into sobs for dramatic effect.

"Sir, that VCR is for parents interested in videotaping the ultrasound," she informed me. "Some people care enough about their unborn children to bring along a video tape to record this very first moment that they share together and can cherish forever."

I felt like dog crap. This was the first time I'd ever see my child and it wasn't recorded on video.

Still...I got over it quickly.

"Got any porn down there?" I asked, shooting wide-eyed glances at my wife's naked crotch and then back up to the blonde's eyes and back to my wife's crotch again, silently initiating a bizarre threesome.

Apparently she didn't.

The blonde then decides she wants the kid to start doing tricks for us. So she starts jabbing at Susie's belly. Susie's pretty ticklish, so she started squirming. Before you knew it, we woke the little brat up.

This little blob just started kicking and punching like he was in a bad Kung Fu movie.

I have a feeling this little shit is gonna have a temper.

I think that's the part where I got just a little misty eyed.

Just a little.

Nothing to write in my diary about.

Just a little moist build-up...that's all.'s there, alive and well. It has a strong heart rate...I wanna say 171...but it might be 71. We're past the dangerous part of when women usually miscarry. The baby is the size of a normal 10 week and one day old baby ... and ours is 10 weeks old exactly. At this rate ... it's conceivable that the baby could weigh a quarter of a million tons at birth.

Well...I'm not sure of that. I'll have to check into it and get back with you on that.

Got my car back this afternoon. $488.73.

And it rides like a wet dream.

...Whatever that means...

The Redneck millionaire is starting to grow on me. He's a pretty funny guy.

He called me to tell me my car was ready. $488.73.

"Now I can work wi'cha on that 73 cents," he drawled into the phone. "But we go' have to come to some sorta agreement on the four hunnert and eighty-eight dollars."

I laughed my ass off. He's a good guy.

I'm definitely going back to him.

So wow...Daddyhood moves closer and closer.

I'm gonna be such a good dad.

UNCLE BOB would be a horrible dad.

But me...ME...I'm gonna be a good dad.

Alright...enough mushy stuff...go check someone else out now. I'm done with yer ass.


I'm feeling extremely funky...George Clinton's "Atomic Dog" should be on everyone's playlist by the end of the day ...AND THAT'S AN ORDER!


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