...it's your mother, she just finished mopping the floor...

I don't know what it is about not having jack shit to say that compels me to open up Diaryland and hit the link that says ADD AN ENTRY.

Friday my roommate brought me home one of those Simpsons toys from the BK Lounge. At first I was all "COOL MAN!" but then I put it together and the joke wasn't funny and the light-up effect was even less funny.

But he said "Dude, I eat at Burker King like three, four times a week. I'll pick one up for you every time if you want. I know how you like the Simpsons."

So I told him "Sure. Go ahead. I mean, even though this one sucks, maybe the others won't. And you eat at BK four times a week? Holy Christ!"

So Saturday I roll up into the lounge myself for a quick bite after running my errands and when she said "Will that be all?" I say "Um, no. Give me one of those Simpsons toys...."

But I didn't want the same sucky one I already had so when she gave me the bag I said "Let me check and see if this is one he already has"

I made up an imaginary "he" because, for some reason, I was ashamed to admit that the toy was for me.

Maybe I'm getting old.

So I got it home and it, too, sucked. And I decided that I was done with cheap ass Simpsons BK toys much in the same way that Aerosmith is done with mirrors.

Or so I thought.

Today when I got home from work there was another one sitting on the coffee table with a little note that said "Fool, I got you another one - Stew."

This one wouldn't even light up.

So I left a message for Stew on his bed that says "If you bring me home another Simpsons toy, I'll give you such a slapping"

Let's hope this saga has come to end.

October 29, 2001 | 6:58 p.m.

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