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5:19 a.m. - 2001-05-24


Grumble, grumble, grumble.

I don't drink coffee. Haven't had a cup since 1983.

But damn. I feel like someone that needs a cup of coffee to get their morning started and hasn't been able to find the java beans yet.

I stayed up last night to write my "Ed" season finale recap for Mighty Big TV, since we leave for our "vacation" in about three hours and I would not have the time to write the recap until a week from today at the earliest. And let's be honest ... who wants to read a recap of a TV show more than a week after it originally aired?

You?? Huh??

...I didn't think so.

So it's done, it's up on the website, and now I have a summer off from recapping unless I get a SUMMER SHOW to recap like .... ohhhh....FEAR FACTOR ON NBC or something...hint, hint, Wingy...hint, hint...

I would like to try recapping something else for the site. I enjoy recapping once I plop my ass down and start to write. It's just a matter of forcing myself to plop my ass down.

Last night's recap was written in a record two hours and 45 minutes, which I'm tres proud of. While most of the recappers take at least a day or two to turn their recaps in ... mine was turned in a mere three hours after the show ended.

Go me!


I rawk! I rawk!!

I'm exhausted!! I'm exhausted!!

I had five hours of sleep! Five hours!!

I have to drive seven hours today!! Seven hours!!

With a teething baby!! Teething baby!!

Alright...enough. I'm making myself sick here.

So...I've gotten quite a lot of feedback on the fact that I'm passing up the opportunity to see the Violent Femmes this weekend.

Okay. I've gotten a message board message and one email. It's more feedback than I expected...hokay??

The way I look at it is like this ... it's the Violent Femmes. Not R.E.M.

See? People get them mixed up all the time because they've both been around about the same amount of time except that R.E.M. actually made a career for themselves while the Femmes had one hit song to kick their career off with and have never been able to follow it up successfully.


Who cares? I'm not going, I can't even GIVE tickets away to the event ... and I've gotta drive seven hours with a teething baby today.

I sure picked the wrong week to give up amphetamines...

Spent yesterday morning hanging out with my intern.

As it turns out, he's the son of a prominent judge here in town.

And I spent the morning telling him how to get past security at the Violent Femmes and grab a seat on the side of the stage to watch them.


I'm Mr. Bad Influence Sr.

Glad to meetcha.

I really like my intern. He's loosening up around me a lot now. I make him call me by my first name, which throws him for a loop because I'm twice his age.

I think he actually respected me at first and wanted to call me Mr. Uncle Bob.

I'm all like..."call me Bob".

And he's all like "Sure thing Mr. Bob"

And I'm all like..."No. Just Bob, dude."

And he couldn't do it at first. But now he can.



Can't live with 'em...only because their parents will eventually tell you to go home.

Then, yesterday afternoon was spent getting prepared for the trip.

First I went and had the van washed and cleaned inside and out. They really busted ass on the the wheels, the windows, the floors, etc.

I didn't see a tip jar, which they used to have at the car wash.

So I handed one of the guys five bucks and he acted like I had just passed him a hundred dollar bill and a nude photo of Lena Horne. Suddenly, he's Mr. Helpful, holding my door for me and shutting it behind me, etc.

I was almost famous for like 10 seconds. I felt like I was in a limo until I realized I was in a Dodge Grand Caravan with a bumper sticker that reads "Smiles are contagious...let's start an epidemic!"

So I grinned a maniacal grin because that's what other motorists expect out of me and took off.

Went to get the oil changed next. Those bastards. They really get off when an older guy pulls into their little smug shop to get his oil changed.

No you fucking grease monkeys...daddy never taught me how to change the oil. I KNOW it's easy to do. And I KNOW that paying you $30 to do it is a total rip-off. Just do it and lemme get back on the road, you bitches.

They did it with all the requisite smirks and catcalls about my masculinity and I drove off, flipping them all birds.

Went to Walmart next. Nothing exciting happened in there.

Went to get my haircut. My hairdresser now officially knows more about me than anyone else. She's good that way. She now knows my illegal drug history and I know hers. Basically...we both tried everything but heroin back in the 70s and 80s. Keep in mind...this was before crack and X and all that crap you kids call drugs today.

I told her I had done X one time and she wanted to know what it was like. I told her it was no big deal to me. Then again, I was drinking like a fish, smoking weed and taking the occasional bump of cocaine from whoever had any.

Yes. Your Uncle Bob used to be able to give Chris Farley and John Belushi a run for their drug money.

No more.

But at one time ... yeah ... I was invincible.

I'm glad I stopped. I'm too young to die.

Anyway, while my hairdresser's snipping away, she decides to tell me that in 1982, she did acid for a whole year while she lived with a drug dealer.

And her scissors started snipping quicker while she talked about it.

I started to panic at that point, praying she didn't have a flashback or anything and jab me in the eye because I was Satan.

I did acid about five times in 1982. Then I did some research on the drug and never did it again because I didn't want my babies to be born with fins and their heart beating outside their heads when they were born. my hairdresser knows all about me and drugs.

I feel so cheapened.

Bought some new tennis shoes since my old ones had holes in them and were unsightly.

I have size 13 feet, which leads most people to believe that I have a penis from hell.

It's a penis from heaven, thankyouverymuch.

AND it's 13 inches long.

My foot, you imbecile...MY FOOT.

I took the shoes to the counter and the girl said "You understand...these are size 13 WIDE."

I'm all..."How wide is WIDE?"

She said "Not very wide."

So I said "Well then why call them WIDE?"

She didn't know.

I said box them up. If they're TOO WIDE, I'll store teacup poodles in there.

I haven't tried them on yet. But I have the feeling I'm going to look like a circus clown with impeccable taste in shoes when I do.

I went to pick up Andy at daycare yesterday and he was doing the cutest thing.

Miss Robin (his daycare lady) answered the door holding Andy, who wasn't even paying attention to the door or Miss Robin ... he was watching Ian, the bratty little two-year old that Miss Robin watches. Ian was making faces at Andy and Andy had the biggest grin on his face and was just LAUGHING at Ian like he was the funniest thing in the world.

Then Miss Robin tells Andy to "look who it is" and holds his smiling face up to mine.

And Andy just grinned and reached out for me, which he's just learned to do in the last few days.

My heart melted.

Damn...I love this kid.

Came home, grilled a couple of ribeyes out ... watched "Ed"...wrote "Ed"...slept, and am now here.

And am now leaving.

I'll be back Monday ...Sunday possibly. Until then, y'all have a safe and fun Memorial Day weekend.

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