(Uncle Bob's Diary is an adult diary. If you are not an adult, please turn around now. If you are under the age of 18, and "get" Bob...you can stay. But if you're under the age of 18, and find certain things disgusting and revolting, you may want to turn around now and go read your "Sweet Valley High" collection again or engage in pinching contests with your brother. But please ... don't come in here any more until you're mature. Thank yewwwwww.)

UNCLE BOB'S ANGELS TO THE RESCUE

MP3 DOWNLOAD OF THE DAY: "Darkside" by Crazy Town. Hip-hop metal at its finest.

Wow...talk about your season of giving...

Yesterday, three Diarylanders stepped up to the plate and gave Uncle Bob a cornucopia of gifts.

Potpourri??

Plethora???

Sorry...I had 3.5 hours of sleep last night...I'll explain why in a minute.

Anywhooo...those three...

First...my absolute favorite aunt, Aunt Marn .

Marn ...sensing my love for the absurd ... sent me the WORST SONG ever recorded in the free world on MP3.

It's a little ditty called "My Pal Foot Foot" by a girl group from the late 60s called The Shaggs. Legend has it the Shaggs were three homely sisters whose dad forced them into music careers when NONE of the three obviously had ANY musical talent. The end results are painful, yet hilarious. I've only listened to the song once and have to work up the courage to hear it again. I've had such little sleep that I'm afraid if I listened to it now, it may physically harm me in some way.

The only thing that worries me is I could SWEAR one of the three Shaggs girls was named Marn.

In which case...if my hunches are correct...I LOVE THE SHAGGS MARN!! THEY RAWK MY HOUSE!!

...The Kiss-up King nails another...

Then... Sinnamon , out of the KINDNESS OF HER HEART, (if you choose to ignore my constant badgering through email) designed the animated gif banner below.

"So Good...It Hurts."

I originally suggested "So Bad...It Hurts". Jaki changed that on her own.

So it's not like I said "ooooo...Jaki...tell everyone how great I am."

I mean....I WANTED TO. And probably SHOULD HAVE EMPHASIZED the point that I'm so freakin' great.

But I sat back, crossed my fingers, and prayed to God that Jaki could sense my overwhelming greatness.

My LOOMING greatness.

Greatness can loom can't it?

Loom loom loom.

Tee hee.

3.5 hours of sleep is fun...

...As long as you're not following it with 18 hours of work.

Which...unfortunately...I'm doing.

My third angel today is Anenigma .

A few weeks ago, Annie asked if anyone wanted any chocolate candy that she was going to be baking.

Duh. Where do I sign up?

My parents always told me..."Take candy from strangers. Especially ones with really bizarre diaries."

I mean...I almost had to take it...right?!?

(Pleasesayright...pleasesayright...)

So anyway...yesterday the mailman brings me a crushed box of the best damned candy I've ever eaten.

Sure all the candy was crushed and it looked like she had taken a bag of Butterfingers, smashed them into bits with a hammer, and poured the contents into a box and shipped it to me.

But once I tipped that box up to my lips and began pouring chocolate dust into my mouth, I exclaimed "Damnation!! That's some mighty fine chocolate eats there!!"

Heh. They weren't really crushed. But Annie was nervous about them showing up all crushed so I thought I'd throw that in.

The only problem was...she didn't send enough. The package came to my office and my boys devoured the box in a matter of minutes.

Alright...fine....I hid the box from my boys and IIII devoured the box in a matter of minutes in the privacy of a bathroom stall.

My God. You people are SUCH sticklers for detail.

All three of these women made my day yesterday.

A day marred by auto tragedy and writer's block.

Oh...I FINALLY came up with a column idea last night while tossing and turning at 11 p.m.

Laying there in bed, I thought about Elian Gonzales and why the hell that little bastard is still in our country.

Then I figured it out...

E.G. is the sequel to "E.T." that we never got.

And we ... as Americans ... are fascinated with sequels.

And since we never got one for "E.T.", the media has sated us with "E.G. the Extra-Gonzales."

To wit:

*E.T. crash landed here. E.G.'s boat crashed and he landed here.

* Both had families "adopt" them, but all they wanted was to go home.

* They were both faced with tragedies. E.G. had to watch his mother drown and then floated to shore. E.T. had to be on hand to witness the shocking results of some of five-year-old Drew Barrymore's more terrifying coke binges.

You get the picture?

I hopped out of bed and until almost 1 a.m., I worked on a great column with some hilarious (funnier than that above crap) observations on the Gonzales trial.

....and never hit "Save" once....

Not once.

At least...not until I was completely finished, satisfied and exhausted.

I go to hit save.

The cursor freezes. Everything freezes.

I had to laugh. I had insomnia so I had decided to work. I worked my ass off and it all disappears at the end.

I wrote by hand as much of it as I could remember, which wasn't much.

I went to bed, set my mental alarm clock for 4:30 and woke up at 4:25.

I've just about finished this. I'm then answering ONLY FIVE emails this morning...the rest of y'all have to wait until tonight...

In the next two hours...

I have to update my other site...20 minutes max...

I have to write my gossip column for this week.

I have to walk two miles with my dog.

I have to get ready for work.

And I'm not even going to ATTEMPT to rewrite the Elian thing this morning. This week...the readers get a "classic" column from Uncle Bob that I have to go and dig up.

Yet...I still get paid like I had turned in a brand new column.

Ain't life grand?

...Don't answer that...