TEMPORARY UNEMPLOYMENT RULES, BAYBEE!!

First off...three cheers for Baby Andy who, on his eighth month birthday yesterday, decided that he's too big of a boy to cry in the middle of the night and slept ALL MO-FOING NIGHT!!!

HURRAH!!!

HUZZAH!!!

HURRAH!!!

I really wanna go in his room right now, pick him up and give him the biggest hug.

But something tells me that'd have him in tears quicker than a Jack Lemmon tribute.

So I'll leave him alone for now.

Sooooo...yesterday was my last day at the newspaper.

I was probably just a tad too giddy all day for my co-workers. I sang "My Way" all day long in a loud, obnoxious tone.

"And nowwwww...the end is nearrrrr... and so I face the final curtain..."

I was so busy all day that I never really had time to think "Well...this is the LAST time I ever do this ..." althought I really wish I had, because I love marking miniscule milestones like that.

Toward the end of the day I started thinking "Ya know...I'm going to miss this place".

Then two things happened that reversed that train of thought quickly.

First, my senile Society Editor came in to proofread her section of the newspaper and got into one of her usual arguments with me. She swears up and down she wrote a story and submitted it to me and I swear up and down I never saw it.

This has been going on for weeks and weeks with her. She turned in the pictures, but never turned in the story.

So I had to pull up all her submissions over the last month and go over each one with her, showing her that in effect, she had not turned in the story.

She thinks I've got some kinda computer voodoo going on. She thinks I've taken that one story that she wrote and hid it from her, just to make her 74 year-old life miserable.

I swear. If I was less of a man, I'd kick her senile old ass.

But since it was my last day, I just smiled and thought "In less than an hour, this woman will not be my problem anymore."

And now...she's not. Someone else will have to deal with her ass now.

Anyway...no pinatas. No hugs goodbye. No cake or cookie.

No problem.

I'm gone.

Thanks for the memories.

ANNNNNND...I know I told y'all that I'd be doing something today that I had never done and that I'd tell you about it today.

Wellllll...I got out of it.

Thank God.

My deejay buddy Billy had lined up a deejay gig for today and couldn't make it and begged me to do it, which I agreed to do.

Now you're asking yourself..."What kinda party would need a deejay during a day?"

Ummmm...try a nursing home party.

Yep. He wanted me to go hang out all day with nursing home patients and play tunes from the '30s and '40s.

And when I say ALL DAY, I mean ALL DAY.

We were supposed to arrive at 8 a.m. and pack it up at 4:30 p.m.

Gawd.

I can just IMAGINE the complaints I'd get from that gig.

"Could you turn that blasted music down? You're shredding my hearing aids!"

"Young man, in MY day, we didn't follow up Tommy Dorsey with Doris Day! That's like following up Duke Ellington with Cole Porter!!"

"Could you play something more recent, like Henry Mancini? Something we can really get down and dirty with like Les Brown and his Band of Renown?"

"YOU SUCK!!"

So I called Billy last night and sounded like my baby had just been ran over.

"Do I have to do this party?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he said. "I can get someone else to do it."

"Really?" I asked, eyes widening.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Deejays would kill for this gig since there's no pressure to build a dance floor."

Which is true. It was highly unlikely I was going to have a dancefloor jamming out to "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy From Company C".

So I told him I didn't want to spend the first day of my vacation entertaining the elderly for $200.

He said that was fine, we were still friends and life would go on.

So....YAHOOOOOOOO!!!

NO OLD FOLKS ON MY AGENDA TODAY!!!

So, Andy and I are spending the day together. I think we'll go cruising for chicks. At least that's what I told him what we were going to do. I think he'd be a wee bit disappointed if we didn't go.

I WANT to get the new Playboy with Belinda Carlisle from the Go-Gos in it. I used to have the BIGGEST crush on her back in the early 80s and would have castrated myself with a rusted can opener for a glimpse of her naked ass back then.

Now I just have to pay five or six bucks to see it. Which is a whole lot more sanitary than the rusted can opener thing.

So we might make a trip to the bookstore today. The only qualm I have with this is ... what kinda perv buys Playboy with his baby boy in his arms?

Am I going to be looked at as some kinda sex freak?

Am I?

I guess we'll find out.

Maybe I'll make Andy pay for it at the counter. I'll explain that it's his favorite magazine to chew because it smells so pretty with the perfume ads in it. Or that his Mom's out of town and he misses her boobs, so I'm buying this magazine so that he can look at boobs and think of his Mama. I'M DOING THIS KID A FAVOR LADY...TAKE THE MONEY AND LET US GET HOME SO HE CAN LOOK AT BOOBIES!!!

Yeah.

That's the approach I'll take.

That's it from me. My six day vacation starts today. I have a feeling it's going to be reeeeal lazy so there won't be much to report here for the next few days.

Bear with me. I'll try to go out and look for interesing adventures.

I pwomise.