NO MORE MR. NICE GUY

Ever since I was screwed like a new porn star by Circuit Fucking City earlier this week, I have turned into a royal asshole.

Some may say..."Well gee Bob...hate to point this out...but you've ALWAYS been an asshole in my book."

At which point, I will shove some in the chest and threaten to kick their ass.

Maybe I've grown a third testicle or something. But I have definitely got some balls in the last week.

Today the Chem Lawn guy shows up at my house.

I've been using Chem Lawn for two years now.

All the weeds I used to have are now gone.

Ironically ... so is my grass.

That's not entirely true. But there are two HUGE brown areas in my front yard that occupy about a third of the yard that are dead.

The poor Chem Lawn guy shows up today to take care of the yard.

I meet him at his truck.

"Can you explain why my grass is dead in these spots," I quizzed him.

He bent down and started raking his hand through the grass. He then tried to inform me I had three or four different types of grass in my front yard. Then he went on a long chemically-enhanced spiel about certain grasses and the chemicals used to keep them in control that made about as much sense as spending millions of tax dollars to make sure a little Cuban boy is happy.

None of this mattered to me.

I just want to know why the fuck my grass is dead when I'm paying these guys 30 bucks a month to make sure I have the best looking yard on the block.

And I said that in so many words.

"I don't see why I should keep paying you guys when you're killing my grass," I told him with a scowl on my face, waiting for him to throw the first punch.

Honestly...I would not put up with my arrogant ass if I were some of the people who have had to deal with me lately.

Had I been that lawn guy, I woulda just said "Fine, pal. I'm outta here." Then I woulda jumped in the truck, shot me a bird and peeled out down the street.

But people put up with my ass. Why? I have no clue.

He assured me that if I "scalped" the yard (i.e. cut it wayyyy short) that the grass would then grow. If it doesn't grow in two weeks, he'll come back out and treat it with another chemical thing free of charge until I was happy.

Sooo...lesson of the day...the worse you treat someone, the better they will treat you.

As long as they're on the clock and accepting a paycheck for being nice to you.

Anyway...this new "badass" attitude I have where I don't take shit from any paid employee is really starting to grow on me.

But...I can tell I'm abusing it as well.

A lady called me at home today to ask me to come to this tourist attraction we have here...Jasmine Hill Gardens ...to do a story on some teacher who's going to be bringing her class to the Gardens tomorrow.

Apparently, this teacher is a real "character" who has become sort of an institution to the Gardens.

I told the lady no.

She was curious as to why I said no and I explained that the teacher lived 60 miles away from this city, the school was 60 miles from the city and my newspaper only does stories on local people and interests. I have enough people clamoring to be in the paper each week without shining a spotlight on someone who isn't even from here.

And the lady took it all in stride and told me to come up whenever I felt like it, free of charge.

I was like..."Lady...I just dissed the shit outta you and you're STILL being nice to me???"

I'll tell ya what...the kindly, sweet Uncle Bob is almost out the door and the new, mean, cantakerous Uncle Bob is moving in.

Bah.

As soon as I get a decent computer that works properly, I'll settle right back into Mr. Nice Guy.

After all, I'm really just a big pussycat.

Speaking of the computer...no call from Senor Shitbreath today. So ... according to C F'N C...my computer should be in tomorrow.

And ohmigod...if it's not...

Hehehehe....

No more Mr. Nice Guy.