All I know is that I’m supposed to push the big red button on my desk and the floor is supposed to open up and underneath is the damn tank full of man-eating sharks. That is what the damn install man told me. The damn tank is there and the sharks are working just fine, I can hear them sloshing around down there, snapping at each other and getting all worked up. It’s the chum that does it, I’m told- But when I press the big red button nothing happens! The damn floor don’t open up! I got to get my assistant to take my unsuspecting victims down the stairs to the the tank manually. Now, I ask you. What Goddamn fun is that? There must be something to do with the hydraulics or something huh? I got my boys Cuff and Link to take a look at it but they wouldn’t know their butts if they was clamped on to their goddamn ass cheeks.

Just the other day I had a whole damn gaggle of my accountants in here and they were telling me this and they were telling me that about how my whole empire is like a deck of cards and sooner or later blah de blah de blah and I give my line like “Gentlemen, this where I bid you GOOD DAY!” And then I hit the big red button! You know, right on “GOOD DAY!” Bam! And nothing. Dammit! Wouldn’t that have been a sight? All them accountants hitting the shark tank with a big splish-splash? Not nearly as good having them slide in one by one. I can’t find a single handy man with Shark Tank Experience.

Any one got any tips for me, shoot me an i-mail about it, would ya? And uh, would you mind standing a little bit more in the center of the room? Perfect!

I got so damn excited about my web-badger idea that I forgot what I was orginally gonna say-

If you got something to ask me, write me and ask it, dammit!

Just send me a damn i-mail about it!

I promise to give your stupid questions all the respect and consideration they deserve. So go on! Write me!

bigmomma at moneyandrun dot net!

NOW DAMMIT!

Here is a goddamn picture of me.

Dammit, fine. If I’m gonna have a goddamn blog than I’m gonna write in the goddamn thing.

I know, don’t need to tell me, the picture looks good.

Here is another one!

I’ll tell ya, some people just do not photograph well, and thank the Sweet Baby-Back Lord above A-number-1 that I take a decent damn polaroid. Thank you Jesus! I’ll get you back! He loves me, this I know!

Now, okay fine. I’ve been known to have an opinion or two about this and that, so if you’ve got something on your mind, don’t be shy- I ain’t gonna bite ya! If there is one nice goddamn thing I can say about this webernet foolishness, is that there ain’t no way I can bite ya! Hmmmmm…. Now hold on a minute and let me think a minute. An online service that COULD bite you. You send someone an i-mail dealy, they go, “oh look I got me an i-mail, I’d better see what it says on the inside of it.” And they open it up and WHAMMO! They get bit by some kind of magic online snake or web-badger! Dammit! Someone get me a pencil or something, i got to write these things down.

I hate this stupid computer crap. Why can’t it be like the old days when you wanted to say something you just manipulated the editor of the local newspaper through bribery and intimidation! I guess I’m getting old.

-Big Momma Bob

So I don’t hit this button until I am ready to p-

DAMMIT!!!! I said I don’t want to post I’m not-

What the dang hell! Now I do what- Just type? What the hell do I type, that is what I’m asking you! Oh, that’s the part I type. Oh- what, hey! Look it that… so I type what I want to type and then I hit- what? Post?  What is post- What? No, wait I don’t want to po-