by "Buck"

June 2, 2005

Well finally time has permitted Uncle Buck to return to the computer for a few precious moments to pound out another column featuring random ridiculousness that permeates my being.  I apologize for my sabbatical, but Jeff was cool with the idea of the Willard Scott style reports when I offered my resignation several months ago.

An update on projects around the home.   First a room has been painted and is fully done.  Another interior paint job remains on the list.  The fence, shutters, and garage doors still have the appearance of a ghetto and need paint.   Landscaping chores are about half done, but the tool shed has some nicely placed and appropriately tacky lattice to keep animals from further digging out the foundation.  I know, who gives a shit?

So Deep Throat is revealed.  This 91-year old geezer comes forward and claims to be the big source that busted President Nixon down to wet nurse.  Am I the only one who chuckles every time I hear the words Deep Throat come out of Katie Couric’s mouth?  I can’t watch this story without a Beavis and Butthead reference.  Classic.

Speaking of Katie Couric, I was reading in the Enquirer the other day (no I don’t have an enquiring mind, I was in a long line at Wal-Mart) that she is apparently a pure, divine bitch on the set of the Today Show.  According to this bastion of journalism’s well-placed inside sources (wink, wink) she and Matt Lauer hate the hell out of each other and she’s impossible to please.  Female staffers are always running off to the bathroom crying with a need to freshen’ up.  She takes all the big interviews and gives Matt the shit.  She’s also got some real festering criticism with Ann Curry’s wardrobe choices.   She’s seeking some big ass 100-Million dollar contract, which Matt says if she gets—he’ll walk.  It’s all great fun to read about.  I’m fascinated about self important people who think they are truly worth that kind of money.  Wonder if she’s ever gotten on her hands and knees and scrubbed a shitter….I doubt it.

I refuse to go see Star Wars.  I saw one of the first five—and it was the second one—so I’m just not into the dorkism that is the Star Wars fantasy.  A guy on a rock station here in Charleston was doing a live remote from the opening night at our new fancy pants theater near the house.  His line was a classic—and he used it on the air. 

(Screaming) “We’re here at the Star Wars showing at the Teays Valley Cinema we’ve got wookies, we’ve got Jedi Knights, we’ve got droids, we’ve got a hell of a lot of people who ain’t gettin’ laid tonight!”    

I literally had to pull over to recompose and clean my pants after that
statement on live radio.

I did however head to the cinema last weekend and took out a second mortgage on my home to enjoy a barrel of corn and a drum of pop for The Longest Yard.  I was a huge fan of the original and I didn’t leave disappointed.  Adam Sandler is one of the funniest guys in Hollywood today and he didn’t let up here.  However, it was the supporting cast that truly brought it home for him here.  Anytime you get Goldberg, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Kevin Nash, Brian Bosworth, Bill Romanowski, and Michael Irvin for a movie—you have some star power.  Chris Rock is his usual self and the addition of Burt Reynolds to the cast seemed to be a license to take some liberties with the plot of the original movie.  I guess this one seemed heavier on the hits and special effects than the old version—which was a little “darker” but what the fuck do I know.  It was a great movie, guys will dig it for the humor and the hits—chicks will dig it for the buff bodies.  One of the running themes is the size of Goldberg’s pecker — nicknamed “the Iguana.”  Another running theme—a guy who can provide McDonald’s cheeseburgers inside a federal pound me in the ass prison.

Looks like Jeff’s sister-in-law Nancy and her granola husband Nostrils will be vacationing in West Virginia this summer.  Check it out.

The last time this hippie bunch showed up here, two of them were murdered by a team of brain-dead rednecks hoping to score some of that free-love everybody was passing around with the bong.  One guy was convicted, but his conviction was later overturned.  By the time it came to trial all of the witnesses were either dead or so fried after years of recreational drug use they couldn’t recall exactly what happened.  Didn’t help matters that the police were arguing among themselves about where the evidence was leading.  Crazy stuff.  

Well, I’m out of material—I’ll try to bring more riveting stuff in future
updates.

Buck Out

                            <<previous next>>

                                    
                 The West Virginia Surf Report!