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Tuesday, Dec. 16, 2003/1:44 AM

Duk's Arse

oh that Nesbitt

There’s one thing you can rely on those bears for, getting into your head and fucking with it. You think they are cute, but quickly realize they are too ironic to be cute. Then you think they are ironic and they are just too goddamn cute.

I don’t quite know what day of Christmas it is or if we have even made it to the first day of Christmas yet. What I do know is that it is 5.30 in the morning. I have a limo picking me up at 6.30am so I can fly to Detroit to present a new $100 Million advertising campaign to my client.

And what am I worried about? Nesbitt’s cutely ironic bitching about the fact that I haven’t posted HIS holiday snaps on DUK’s web site. Not only does the bear have the cute and lovable mr-aof running around looking after his every whim, he now wants me to too.

The unfortunate part of the story is that it was Duk, not me, who was in the apartment when Nesbitt's note came in...

I was at work, preparing for BIG meeting. Instantly both my cell phone and my office phone began ringing.

“You inadequate piece of shhhhShhhhhshhhhh where the fuck are nesbitt’s fucking photos” (thankfully the cell phone has a really bad reception in the office). I knew I was in trouble so I just put the phone down.

The phone on the desk was ringing and the display on it simply read “External call”. It should have read - “You are in for it now don’t answer this unless you are over the age of 18 and have a strong constitution”. This week I’ve really needed a rating system for my phone like the ones that they use for movies. Everything this week has been PG or MA. Where are all the family viewing phone calls. I want to receive a Little House on the Prairie call this week. All I ask is just one phone call that is the equivalent to Grandpa Walton giving John Boy some growing up advice.

I picked up the phone.

“Get those fucking pictures on the website now. Call yourself a Blogger. You are the worst fucking blogger of the fucking century. I’ve had shits that could blog better than you, you…..”

I put the phone down. One day Duk, you’ll find yourself in a fucking spider hole and I’ll be the one saying “greetings from President Bush”

Car’s here. I’m nowhere near ready.

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