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11:07:20 - 2000-08-06


You know that great feeling you get when you've had a day where you accomplished EVERYTHING you set out to do ... and turned a Saturday into a very productive day??

Well ... that feeling has now been replaced with a back ache from hell.

We got our nursery set up yesterday. Didn't sound like it was going to be a big deal, but Christ almighty ... Gilligan and his castaways got off the island in less time than it took to clean this bastard out.

The only cool thing is we cleaned out a file cabinet that had stuff in it that I haven't seen in YEARS. I still have to go through all that, but there were a ton of photos that I had completely forgot about in there, plus the very first novel I ever wrote..."The Boy Who Ate Pittsburgh."

...Which...for those of you who may be curious...completely and utterly sucks shit...

To make a long story short as well as blow your fucking mind over doing so ... we now have a nursery/kid's room. Crib in the corner, dresser, changing table, closet full of toys and clothes.

Still need to get a glider in there as well. That comes later.

So we get THAT done and Susie says it's time to go to Toys R Us and REGISTER FOR BABY GIFTS!!!!!!!!!!!!




I must admit...I wasn't as giddy and gung ho about registering for baby gifts as she was. Something about standing still for 30 minutes while trying to decide which car seat is the BEST really grates on my nerves. When I WAS A KID, we didn't have car seats. Mom just threw you in the cardboard box that the crock pot came in and strapped you in with industrial sized rubber bands.

And I'M still alive, dammit.

We went with a Graco car seat, by the way.

I can honestly say I have NEVER had a more miserable time in Toys R Us. By the end of the 2.5 hour ordeal, I was crying like a five-year-old who had been bad and wasn't getting any Pokemon cards.

At one point, I laid down in the middle of an aisle and kicked and screamed.

It's true!

(For the more gullible readers I may's NOT true.)

I was allowed one decide what "motif" we were going to decorate the kid's room in.

I picked Winnie the Muthafukkin' Pooh.

Winnie the Muthafukkin' Pooh is a classic. First off, you got this fat ass bear who will do fuckin' ANYTHING for honey. This fuckin' bear is OBSESSED with fuckin' honey. The bitch will eat the shit on ANYTHING. Fuckin' Winnie the Muthafukkin' Pooh once ate honey on tree bark. That's one crazy muthafukkin' bear, lemme tell yer ass!!

Then you got that crazy asshole Tigger. Fuckin' Tigger talks like a mental patient and is always laughing hysterically like he's got a jockey full of muthafukkin' feathers. I think the fucker is wack.

Fuckin' Eeyore man. He's like ... running around on downers and shit. Always in a depressed mood. You just kinda wanna walk up to him, stick a foot in his ass and say "Get over it, you fuckin' donkey!"

Fuckin' Eeyore.

Then there's Piglet. Piglet is like everyone's bitch in Poohville. Piglet don't cause no shit, cos Piglet, man...he be like "Whatever Pooh" and Pooh be like "Fuck you Piglet, suck my pork rind, beeyotch" and Piglet, you know, Piglet will just hunker down' on Pooh's bear wang and choke that chubby for everything he be fuckin' worth.

There's an owl in Poohville. I ain't got no fuckin' clue what his name is, but he think he all wise and shit. If he so fuckin' wise, why is his ass a muthafukkin' cartoon? Answer me THAT, beeyotch!!!

....So as you can plainly see...with Winnie the Pooh, you have a lot you can run with.

Anyway...during our walking up and down the same aisles for hours, Susie's friend Julie showed up.

The one we helped move last week.

The one who makes 70 grand a year, lives by herself and has more money than she knows what to do with.

Well then...Julie wants to buy Susie one more gift before she ships off to Memphis on Friday.

So she buys her the swing we asked for. A $99 swing that has six different levels of swingness PLUS plays music to lull the little bastard asleep.

I was hoping it would play Eric Clapton's "Cocaine". Y'know ... ya pay a hundred bucks for a fuckin' could at least play some decent tunes.'s more along the lines of "Frere Jaques" and "London Bridge".

...Like the kid ain't gonna be hearing THAT SHIT ad nauseum for the next several years.

After a while, I got bored and started walking around with my little scanner gun and scanning all kindsa stuff. Talking Stone Cold Steve Austin doll...that kinda shit.

Bitch at the front took it off the list though, because it "wasn't a baby item".

Hey...look raise your kid your way, I'll warp mine my way, capiche???

I saw a wire nipple brush and pointed out to the Mrs. "I bet THAT hurts".

I don't think she got the joke.

Anyway...we got two major crap fests out of the way in one day. Little Andrew now has his own room all nice and neat and he's got a ton of crap just waiting to be bought at Toys R Us.

Oh yes...we're registered online as well, because this is 2000 and by God, you can do things like that. If ya wanna see all the goofy shit I picked out for this bag of screams, go to, down to Baby Registry and type in Susie

Not that you have to BUY the kid anything. Just look.

Please don't feel like you have to buy something and have it waiting for me at my local Toys R Us.

Please don't feel like that.

Like you owe me for cranking out a slightly humorous diary entry every single fucking morning for eight months now for your pleasure.

Please don't feel like you owe me.


If you're a kind hearted person with money to blow...then what the fuck are you waiting for???

Buy the kid some Pooh shit for God's sakes.

My kid needs Pooh!!!





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