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06:15:42 - 2000-03-03


Y' know...I HATE radio fuckers.

And no...I'm not talking about those freaks that enjoy sexual intercourse with radios. I'm talking about radio station employees who think that because they're in "radio" that they're COOLER than the average person because they get free CDs and get to meet one-hit wonders like Edwin McCain.

On a side note...if YOUR name was Edwin McCain and you were making records, DON'T you think you would change your name to "Biff Boxoffice" or something?? Edwin McCain sounds like a Midwestern hardware store sales clerk.

So anyway ... I go to the radio station yesterday that I was supposed to be a guest on, and guess what?




Jesus! What kinda guy do you think I am?!? NOOOO...nobody boned me up the ass for being a fucking wise guy ... sheesh. You are one troubled bastard, you know that??

Actually ... I got there and the program director had "forgot" talking to me and setting up the radio interview.

Now...first the FUCK do you forget talking to Uncle Bob??


Would YOU forget a phone convo with the Bobbo??

Of course not.

But this pierced freak did. Here's how the conversation went yesterday.

FREAK: "Can I help you?"

ME: "Yeah, I'm Uncle Bob...we talked last week and you wanted me to come out and be on one of the shows and talk about the Golden Egg and the Easter Egg Hunt."

FREAK: "We did??"

ME: "Yes, we did. You asked me to come out here at 10 a.m."

FREAK: "I don't remember any of this."

ME: "Hmmmm...maybe I hallucinated it. Then again, maybe YOU had an Elmer's Glue nozzle shoved so far up your goddamned nose when we spoke, that you fucking don't remember most of the 90's."

(....or words to that effect)

FREAK: "I'm sorry. I truly don't remember."

(Just as he was about to dismiss me as some dick that wandered in off the street, the station manager (HIS BOSS) comes walking out. He and I have been friends for years, he sends me that shitty e-mail every day with jokes that aren't funny, but for some reason it's shit that he thinks I CAN'T live without.)


ME: "Station Manager!!"

(Now all of a sudden, Freak aka NEW BOY, starts to panic. He had no idea that the fucker he was stringing along in the lobby was a personal friend of his boss and a goddamned LEGEND in this city.)

Well ... maybe not a don't FUCK with Uncle Bob in this city, pal. Fair fuckin' warning.

Yeah. You betcha.

After the handshaking, hugging, kissing and lengthy crotch massaging session was finished, the station manager asked what I was doing there at his radio station.

ME: "Well, Station Manager, as you know, your station and my business are doing a crossover promotion. Freakazoid here asked me to come on a show and promote the Easter Egg Hunt .... "


ME: " ... But he doesn't seem to remember talking to me."

Heh heh heh.

At this point...Freak Boy begins back pedaling.

FREAK: "Oh, I remember talking to you now. But I thought we scheduled it for the morning show from 6 to 9."

....goddamned liar. Goddamned stinkin' no-good, baby fucking, squirrel sodomizing, tax cheating liar ....

ME: "Nope. We agreed on 10 a.m. I know this because I don't schedule ANYTHING before 10 a.m. I haven't in years."

Freakboy was painted into a corner.

Check and muthafukkin' mate, you goddamned Alice in Chains wannabe.

STATION MANAGER: "Well Steve (freak boy), what can we do with Uncle Bob here?"

ME: "Let's just reschedule it. Really. I don't mind."

(The biggest lie I told all day. Really ... I "don't mind" rescheduling something that I was TOLD would happen today because Freak Boy is hooked on crank, and was probably getting his balls polished by some young impressionable intern who has more holes in her body than Bonnie and Clyde while he spoke with me on the phone)

STATION MANAGER: "Are you sure?"

ME: "Station Manager,'s no big deal..."

(SECOND biggest lie all day)

FREAK: "Great...let me get your phone number and I'll have someone call you today to reschedule it."

So I gave the freak my phone number and told him to tell whoever to just leave a message because I would be in and out all day.

Guess what time I got the phone call???

No really ... guess....



The answer is....I have NOT received a phone call yet. And it's 5 a.m. the next day.


I HATE radio fuckers.


If you loved me, you'd leave me A MESSAGE .

If you want to read my diary from 1980 when UNCLE BOB was 18 and pitiful , CLICK HERE

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