Bum Rap

Hey, it's Vick again!

Yeah, my mom shot off Irv's fingers last Thanksgiving. I was there. I baked the holiday squash. I molded the yams into the Traditional Pilgrim Face. And when that little "Meals On Wheels" Sugar Plum Girl tried to force her pumpkin ice cream pie on us, I dropped it on the floor to teach her a lesson. Nobody upstages Uncle Vick!

I don't know how my mom balanced herself in her walker and held up that shotgun at the same time. She was plucky!

Look, Irv. You happy now? We even got readers reading this adorable blog of yours. They care about your damn fingers! You want me to write down how you're really the one who killed my parents...and that little Shirley Temple social worker girl...huh?

I told you I'd get revenge at the Labor Day Family Barbecue next Monday. They got some new social worker comin'. And my younger brother. And my two aunts. They're all comin' and you'll be there, too. Eatin' Veggie Party Wienies. You have no choice. I've got the photos from last Thanksgiving. And I'll post em on this blog if I have to, and then who'll be sorry?

And now, Kwan is gone. I know where she is, too. I know she's reading this. I'm going to her place tonight after work. She'll be at the barbecue, too, whether she likes it or not. I'll see her tonight. Runnin' for Congress. Don't make me guffaw!

I'm a health care professional. I might eat and drink too much - and I might break a window or two at the mall with a hammer, but hey, 20 percent of America is obese, so what's the crime? My sideburns aren't cute like yours, Irv. I've got some gray, and I'm goin' bald. So what! Kwan likes it. I know she still likes me. You got me all wrong.

I'll prove it tonight!

Uncle Vick