THE OBLIGATORY DIARY ENTRY WHEN I REALLY DIDN'T FEEL LIKE POSTING ONE

Arrrgh.

This is going to be a short entry. Lucky fucking you.

Last night, oh, around 10:30 or so, we go to put Andy down for the night after falling asleep in Susie's arms.

Andy doesn't wanna lay down.

Okay. Andy lays in Susie's arms some more, falls back asleep.

We go to lay him down.

He screams like we're injecting him with bleach.

This time I pick him up, walk him around the house patting his back.

He's snoring in my arms.

Lay him down.

Scream scream scream.

Apparently, to the best of our knowledge, he had a tummy ache and couldn't bear to sleep anywhere but our arms.

We drew straws to see who would sleep in the recliner with Andy on their chest all night.

I won, meaning I got to go to bed.

Of course...this is 1 a.m. or so when I finally go to bed.

Not really what I consider "winning".

Got up at 5 a.m. after Susie could NOT get him to quit crying.

We're both kinda freaking out over it, because as I've stated in the past, Andy is the PERFECT baby, and screaming all night isn't in his repertoire of hits.

This morning, Susie finally took him out of her arms at around 9 a.m. and put him in his bouncy seat where he was happy and playful and not screaming.

I think he knows he had to put on a smiley face in order to keep himself out of the doctor's office this morning.

Which he did.

He's a smart lil' bastard, I'm 'a tellin' ya.

I received a check for fifty bucks yesterday for judging that sidewalk art contest last week.

People ask why I love my job so much. Easy. When I get paid fifty bucks to walk up and down a sidewalk for ten minutes, write three numbers down on a piece of paper, hand that piece of paper in, leave and then get a check for fifty bucks with no taxes taken out a week later...well...damn Sam...you'd love it too.

So we went out to eat last night to Lone Star Steakhouse since we were both hungry for a steak and our back patio is still flooded from the rains earlier this week and I can't get to the grill without stepping in three inches of sludge.

At Lone Star, each steak has its own name. Stuff like "The Cowboy", "The Prairie Dog", etc.

I ordered "The Motherfucker".

This was a one pound ribeye, smothered in cajun spices.

I ate about half of it and was full as a teenager's zit.

I thought about taking the rest home, but we had so much food left over from the inlaw's stay that I knew I'd never get around to eating the rest at home.

So I finished the motherfucker.

They brought the wheelbarrow over to the table, carefully lifted me into it with a crane and several employees wheeled me to the minivan, grunting and groaning the entire way.

Yep.

I'm a proud bastard, lemme tell ya.

Actually had lunch by myself yesterday for the first time in ages.

Went to Captain D's, a great little seafood place, and chowed down on some cajun crawfish.

I had never eaten crawfish in my life, but I can't turn down anything with "cajun" in its description.

I can now.

I'll never eat that inedible shit again.

People stared and pointed at me while I ate. I heard the murmurs.

"Look at that guy eating all by himself."

"I bet he doesn't have any friends at all."

"My God. Is he going to eat ALL of that?"

Bastards.

Damned Captain D's eating bastards.

I ate it all. Sure, it was inedible. If in fact, that's a word.

But it was cajun, dammit.

Gotta eat the cajun foods.

I'm trying to think if I can make this entry any more boring.

Nope.

This is about as boring as it gets.

Mattie Gee should be here anytime now. He's borrowing my super fantastic lawn mower and we're going to whack his weeds for a few minutes and then take the lawn mower over to Sears for its annual tune-up and cleaning.

I'm telling ya...my life is FULL of excitement today, baby.

That's it. Consider this an "obligatory" diary entry. Something to just say "Yeah, motherfucker...I caught my diary up today. Gotta problem with it?"

Oh yeah...I'm going to join Diaryland's little gold membership dealio here in the next day or two. But I've gotta come up with a witty slogan for my 10,000 hit banner thingie.

Here's my ideas so far for a cute slogan:

"Uncle Bob is a bitch."

"Uncle Bob...he'll eat your young."

"Uncle Bob...master of the three dots"

"Uncle Bob...he's bound to get better eventually"

"Uncle Bob loves you like a cold sore"

"Uncle Bob...he sweats in his sleep"

"Uncle Bob...the Diaryland equivalent of projectile diarhhea"

"Uncle Bob will fuck your shit up"

"Uncle Bob wishes he was cool"

"Uncle Bob isn't gay and loves his parents"

"Uncle Bob...the biggest hypocrite you'll ever meet"

"Uncle Bob kisses ASS, DUDE!!"

"Uncle Bob ... the largest bastard in Diaryland"

So ...

Got any suggestions?

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