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08:59:51 - 2000-07-18


Hi kids! Slim Shady here!

In case your feeble little minds didn't figure it out yesterday...what I posted here ("The Joys of Parenthood...") was the rough draft for my column this week.

I just didn't have it in me to write and write and write yesterday morning. My sincerest apologies, my humblest humblest....well hell...I guess my sincerest apologies are just going to HAVE to be enough.

Sooo...lemme get you caught up on the highlights of the last three days.


Susie, Patricia, Ehab, Lil' Baby Max and I went down to the State Capitol for the Americans With Disabilities Association (ADA) Torch Relay. I had to cover the event for the newspaper ... plus Mattie Gee's latest band, The Spicolis were making their public debut playing "Celebration".

I freakin' HATE that song. There's so few songs that I hate...but that is definitly one of them.

I also hate "Brickhouse" by the Commodores. Mainly, because down south, EVERY two-bit band plays the song. When I hear a band play that song, I KNOW I'm going to hate the band's setlist.'s 104 degrees in the shade. And there's three things you don't want to take out into the 104 degree weather.

(A)Any dairy products that may spoil.

(B)A pregnant woman

(C)A one year old baby.

Luckily for me, we left all the dairy products at home. But I had the other two by my side for TWO HOURS!!!

That's right...we stood there and waited for two hours with about 200 people with disabilities as some ceremony dragged on and on and on and on and on.

Now then...I can understand why all these wheelchair-bound people were excited about their little ceremony. It was their day in the sun (literally) and they wanted to relish it for everything it was worth.

WEEEE just wanted to see the band, who were going to play DIRECTLY FOLLOWING the ceremony.

So this lady wheels over to the microphone and begins talking about how disabled people rule and people that can walk really suck, etc.

She was a crippled HATE MONGERER!!!

And ... like I said...since all eyes were finally on her and her fellow four wheelers, she wasn't about to let go of that microphone.

She'd invite people up to speak. They'd tell their life story and why they hated people that could walk, THENNNNN they'd hand the mic over to someone else, who'd tell THEIR stories, blah blah blah.

After two hours of standing in the sun and getting burned, I walked over to Mattie Gee and said "We can't stay any longer."

Actually...what I said was "For a bunch of people with no lungs, these bastards sure are long-winded."

We then drove around town, had lunch, went home, everyone napped but me because Max was cranky so I played with him, went out to eat, came home, watched a movie and passed out.

Sunday...we went car shopping, clothes shopping, had lunch and Ehab, Patricia and Max went back to Atlanta.

I passed out for two hours, still exhausted from standing in the sun the previous day.

Sunday night, Susie and I went BACK OUT to go car shopping. Car shopping on Sunday night is the best time to do it, because the car lots are closed and there's no creepy salesguys chasing you around saying "WHADDA I GOTTA DO TO GET YOU TO BUY A CAR TODAY?!?!?"

Fuckin' stand on your head for 20 minutes and sing Christmas carols, you fuckin' moron.

Anyway...Susie finally decided that she wanted a brand new Plymouth Grand Voyager SE. No ifs, ands, or buts. This was the car for her.

Which brings us to YESTERDAY.

I woke up at 2:30 a.m. yesterday, after 3.5 hours of sleep.

I got up, wrote my column which appeared here yesterday (but I already told you that once...PAY ATTENTION!!) wrote some stories for the newspaper...woke Susie up and took her to work, since her car was screwed up (it ended up the car blew a big deal) and almost passed out repeatedly at work at my desk.

I left work at noon...fully expecting to come home and pass out for several hours...finally getting caught up on my sleep.


Woke up 45 minutes after laying down.

I called Rhodes Furniture. We bought a sectional sofa from Rhodes in 1995 with a five year extended warranty that stated if we ever needed our sofa restuffed, or the fabric reupholstered, they'd come out and do it.

That's what the warranty covered.

But...after five years...well gee whiz..."we don't remember telling you that..."


A few years ago...the old Uncle Bob would be told no and then go running with his tail between his legs.

I'm older now. And I don't take SHIT from nobody anymore.

I spoke to the guy in charge of restuffing furniture. When he first gave me an inkling that he wasn't going to take care of the job, I asked to speak to his supervisor.

I told his supervisor that when I bought this sofa, I bought the extended warranty SOLELY because the saleslady said when the five years were almost up, to call you guys and you would restuff the sofa and reupholster it and I'd have a BRAND NEW SOFA after five years.

I didn't WANT that. I wanted one small section restuffed. That was IT.

He said the saleslady that told me that was no longer with the company.

Well...BIG FUCKING DEAL, MISTER. I want my sofa restuffed. I don't give the shit if the saleslady is a panhandler in Bumfuck, Egypt right now...COME RESTUFF THIS SECTION OF MY SOFA!!!!!

He hemmed hawed around and I FINALLY used my trump card.

"I'm the editor of the Montgomery Independent," I told him. "Have you heard of that newspaper?"

"Of course," he said.

"And I was sitting here at home, just trying to think about what I'd write my editorial about this week," I told him. "I'm thinking you just gave me a topic to write about. A certain furniture company in town that lies to their customers to get their business..."

....They'll be here Wednesday at noon to restuff my sofa...

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