current entry older entries message board contact
19:12:06 - 2000-02-19

I know Uncle Bob's diary may look all sweet and cute and Diaryland-ish ... but it ain't. I do horrible things in here. I once called for the head of ANY of the Backstreet Boys and put a $100 bounty on NSync's collective asses. That's right kids. Uncle Bob isn't a nice person. That said...those of you under 18, go to bed and pray to GOD I'm not standing outside your window tonight with my pale, ghastly face and my blood-soaked fangs.

LUCILLE BALL WOULD HAVE BEEN PROUD

Ahhhh...the wife's outta town for the weekend. So, what's for dinner?

What else would an All-American guy want for dinner??

Steak.

So I get to the store and happen to go down the spice aisle. It's one of my two favorite sections of the supermarket, the other being the barbecue sauce aisle (I'm a sucker for new barbecue sauces).

I see this Blackened Steak Seasoning from Paul Prudhomme. It's a little pricey, but hey ... I'm pampering my fat ass tonight. So blackened steak it is.

I get a big ol' Ribeye, get it home, and read the instructions on the Blackened Steak Seasoning. I love blackened steak (a real spicy, seared steak), but I've never attempted it at home. At home, I usually grill my steaks outdoors. So when I'm out in a restaurant and get a steak, I'll ususally get it blackened.

The instructions on the side of the box clearly say "DO NOT cook these steaks inside the house. This cooking method produces intense smoke."

Tch.

Yeah right.

WhatEVer.

(Bob makes the slow "jerking off" motion with his hand while he rolls his eyes at Chef Paul Prudhomme)

Alright...I preheated the skillet on high heat for ten minutes. I then tossed the steak in the skillet.

Within five seconds, it looked like a fucking KISS concert in my kitchen. There was smoke and fire everywhere. My dog freaks and starts barking. The smoke detectors go off and they're whining like Nancy Kerrigan so the whole fucking neighborhood knows what an incredibly stupid dipshit I am.

Meanwhile, my simpleton ass is trying to make a rash decision on what the hell to do. I decided to turn the stove off, which made the skillet smoke even more.

I'll admit though...if you're a steak lover, the smoky smell was ...delightful. My house smells like the kitchen of Outback Steakhouse right now.

I opened up the patio door and held the skillet near the screen door, trying to fan the smoke outside.

My neighbor was lucky enough to be standing outside to watch this modern-day "Lucy" skit.

"What happened," she asked as smoke poured from my home.

"Nothing," I replied. "Just cooking a steak."

I walked back inside and NO LIE, there were clouds of smoke rolling along the ceiling of my home. My dog was sitting in the den, shaking and frightened. I calmed her down by yelling at her to suck it up and be a real fuckin' dog like that Lassie bitch on TV. That's all she really needed...a little pep talk.

It doesn't take long for the steak to cook like this, so within three minutes, I had removed the steak from the skillet and put the skillet outside.

Believe it or not, it was a damned tasty steak.

But now I'm freezing my ass off with all the windows open and the temperature in the low 50s outside.

All in the name of beef, baby.

*******************

The rest of the day has been ultra laid back.

I played Play Station for about 90 minutes this morning.

I entered Banky's contest this morning too while I nursed my hangover. I was apparently the number one guy he wanted calling his new voice mail, so I made his wish come true, like Michael Jordan visiting a little kid born with a spine on the outside of its body. Except I think Banky probably wanted me to call more than some kid would wanna meet Michael Jordan. I mean...what the hell has he done compared to what I've done??

C'mon. Gimme an answer.

That's what I thought. You're speechless.

You know...I'm beginning to understand you more. You're the strong, silent "Keep reading 'til I'm finished" type.

Yeah...I know yer kind...

So anyway...what else did I do today...?

I napped for about 90 minutes, which really did away with the remnants of my hangover.

I watched "South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut" with Closed Captioning on.

I FINALLY showered at 4 p.m. (Hey...I showered last night before I went out ... sue me) and went to the store.

Came home, almost set the house on fire.

And am currently finishing up this sentence that you are currently reading, giving us a strange sort of "deja vu" if "deja vu" was as vague as I'm trying to portray it.

I really wanna do an incoherant ramblings entry, just to get my creative juices flowing. I think I'll start working on one of those.

Have a great night. See ya later, gator.

You know Bob...I think I'm beginning to develop a crush on you. Is that weird? Here....let me tell you more...

If ya wanna check out my other website, updated daily (BUT NOT TODAY...I DON'T FEEL SO WELL) with a REAL diary PLUS my diary this day in 1980 click here

This Diaryland Ring of Wackos site is owned by Chelsea Clinton.
Previous 5 Sites Previous Next Next 5 Sites Randomizer List All Members

Tell me everything's going to be alright.

0 comments so far
The last one/The next one


NEW!!!Come and write some BAD EROTICA with the cool kids!

My Diaryland Trading Card
Now go write a Suck Ass Poem�
Write me a note here.
Read my notes here.
Hey! Take the Uncle Bob Quiz!
What the hell! May as well take the wildly popular Uncle Bob Second Quiz too!
Thanks Diaryland
Designed by Lisa


CURRENT - ARCHIVES - MESSAGES - EMAIL


Have you read these?

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

Losing Focus While Trying To Write A Blog Entry Is Cool. - 1:47 p.m. , 2008-12-04

Buck Up Junior, You Could Be Digging Ditches - 11:36 p.m. , 2008-10-31

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

Return Of The Karate Kid And His Slow Kitty-Lovin' Accomplice - 5:44 a.m. , 2008-10-22

Sign up for my Notify List and get email when I update!

email:
powered by
NotifyList.com

HEY YOU!
Click on the button below to order the book "Never Threaten To Eat Your Co-Workers: Best of Blogs" featuring Uncle Bob.
You WON'T be sorry.

DISCLAIMER


Read a random entry of mine.