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10:12:12 - 2001-02-14



I'm so excited ... PINCH ME!!

I'm not sure if this is just a local thing or not...but have any of you ever heard of a "Biggest Rat In Town" competition???

Here in the Capital City of this godforsaken state, we have a "Biggest Rat In Town" competition each year. Ten different community leaders all vie for the title of being the Biggest Rat In Town.

The way you earn that title?? You have to raise as much money as possible for the American Cancer Society doing some wacky stunts, hosting large cookouts or parties or just writing letters to people begging them to help out the American Cancer Society.

And FINALLY ... they've wised up and asked yer dear ol' favorite community leader, Uncle Bob to participate in the contest.

At first, I balked. Secretly, I've always wanted to be involved with it since cancer has affected my family and friends many times through the years. That and most of the candidates are well known people around town and I wanted to be one of them.

But c'mon ... the Biggest Rat usually raises anywhere from $10,000 -$20,000. My friends are lowlifes who are barely able to pay their bills each month. How am I going to raise that kinda money??

So I told the lady that I'm honored but I'd have to decline.

She begged me. She pressured me. She flattered me by saying that everyone at her job loves my column and has for years.

Okay. Where do I sign?

So now, I'm in the competition.

And I could very well be the Biggest Rat in town.

I've got a few ideas up my sleeves which I'm sure dear Uncle Bob reader...will be hearing about in the next few weeks.

I'm really jazzed about this. In my book, it's an honor to even be included. Last night I was thinking to myself "There's no way I'll be able to become the Biggest Rat in Town. That's only for the REAL big wigs."

But this morning, the more I think about it, the more I think I stand a chance at getting it.

Anyway ... wish me luck!

Now then ... all this talk about me being charitable and helping out others and ... and ... and...

(Uncle Bob shudders)

I've got the urge to rail against a whole breed of people. To really piss some people off. To turn this cart over and offend half the world's population and get lots of hate mail plus a lot of email backing me up and telling me just how much they hate these people as well.

You know who I hate??

I mean REEEEEALLY hate???

These assholes with dirty elbows.

You know who I'm talking about. You're standing there, talking to someone in short sleeves. They cross their arms over their chest and you just want to PUKE.

Their elbows are a totally different color from the rest of their body. They're black from FILTH. And when you see those nasty assed elbows, you can't take your eyes off of them and before you know it, you've said something out loud like "Christ. Don't you ever wash your elbows, dude??"

I mean ... how hard is it, people?? You're in the shower, you're washing your body ... but SO MANY PEOPLE just totally forget about their damned elbows and end up shoving shampoo bottles up their wazoos rather than taking the time to scrub the 'bows.

Then they take their elbows out in public...sometimes even restaurants ... and they just show them off like new braces.

It just makes me sick.

And I know what's going to happen now. I'm going to get people signing the message board saying "Uncle Bob, you are one rude bastard. I have dirty elbows and I take offense at your remarks. We Dirty Elbowed people cannot help our condition. We can't help that we forget to wash our elbows on a daily basis."


For God's sakes, buy a loofah. Soap that baby up real good and just scrub each elbow for 15 seconds a day.

That's it.

"FIFTEEN SECONDS A DAY???" the dirty elbowed people are thinking. "That will cut into my 'rubbing soot on my elbows' time!"

Too bad, Crusty 'Bow. If you wanted to make your Uncle Bob happy, you'd TAKE the time to do it.

"But Uncle Bob...I work in a coal mine all day and no matter how hard I scrub my elbows, they're still going to look like the inside of an aardvark's ass."

Too bad. Change jobs you freak.

I'm sorry if I've offended some of you which I'm sure I have.

But let's face it. If you have dirty elbows I don't WANT you defacing my diary.

Take yer dirty-assed elbows OUT OF MY SIGHT.

...Okay ... I can't really SEE your dirty-assed elbows. But I think you know what I mean.

Some of you may not even KNOW that your elbows are dirty. There's a few easy ways to determine this.

A) Twist your arms into a position to where you can see your elbows. If they are darker than the rest of your skin, you have dirty elbows and you risk making me puke. (Black people's dirty elbows are actually grayer than their skin, so if you're black, look for lighter, flakier patches)

B) Stand in front of a mirror, put your hands behind your head and check them 'bows out. If you can scrape the gunk off your elbows with a metal spatula ... you're no friend of mine, sister.

Now then ... there's even one more solution that can redeem yourself in my eyes.

Always wear long sleeves. If you have dirty elbows and you're proud of them, do the world a favor and keep them to yourself. Throw all your short sleeve tops away and go ahead and concentrate on growing weeds on your elbows.

Just don't share those nasty crusty things with me.

As always ... my email box is open for your outpouring of hate mail.

Rock on.

(For those of you with no sense of humor -- and believe me ... for a diary that tries to exemplify humor on a regular basis, there's a lot of humorless people that read this crap -- the "dirty elbows" thing is tongue in cheek. Yes ... I have to explain things like sarcasm to people now. How pathetic is that?)

Did I mention here recently that I have some kick ass cough syrup in my possession?

This stuff is sooooo good, I told my preacher the other day after the church service that I had been high the entire time he preached.

Then I mentioned the high came from the cough syrup that I was on.

He said he had some cough syrup recently with his cold that made him positively loopy as well, so he didn't hold the fact that I was stoned at church against me.

He's a cool dude.

I got home after 9:00 last night after a horrendously long day.

I ate dinner.

I watched my tape of "The Mole" which you should be watching and if you're not, I'm willing to bet that you're a DIRTY ELBOWED FREAK.

I then checked my email.

Holy hell. I had over 40 emails talking about my diary entry yesterday.

I STILL haven't read them all, and I'm not sure I'll be able to answer them all, but thanks to those of you who took the time to write and say nice things about me.

Those that said nasty things ... WASH YOUR ELBOWS!!

Then this morning, I check my message board and GOOD GOD...y'all were some busy little beavers yesterday while I worked.

Thanks so much for your support over my right to say what I want in my diary. Methy and I are at peace now with each other and I know that I, for one, am happy for that. She's a sweetheart and a friend and I'm glad we got things straight between us.

Keep in mind, I was NEVER mad at her. Just the people that called me names on her message board.

So you rabid Uncle Bob defenders can take a breather. Everything's hunky dory in Bobville.

Oh yeah...Happy Valentine's Day!!

If you don't get a single valentine today, at least remember this ... your Uncle Bob loves ya.

...And ... you might wanna think about washing your elbows. That could be the reason you're Valentine-less.


CYPRESS HILL: "Rock Superstar"

I guess Napster's still running on fumes. This song always makes me thrash my head around like I was 20 years younger. I've been listening to it every day driving to work and driving home from work. It rocks my nutsack.


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