"Okay, so how do you know if one's aura's dirty? Somebody come by with a finger and write "wash me" on it?"

today's grouch-a-rama post is brought to you by "that kid from last summer who said i was stealing his money" and the letter t, for traffic, tourists and tsch! (the noise i make when driving behind tourists in traffic). mr. "where's all my money" is back again this year and i promise all of you dear folks i was totally not mean the first time he came in. i forgave, of not forgot, and this was going to be a new year. and then yesterday he gave me "the hand". you know what i mean, 1994 talk to the hand all that and a bag of chips. maybe in jamaica you can do that to your bank teller and she won't come across the counter and smack you, but not here. all i can think about is how i'm not going to cash his checks anymore and how sad he will be. and belligerent. i can't wait for that, i really can't. most of our foreign customers are very eager to learn the rules and we are eager to help them because it's just easier to conduct business in that friendly way. but dude, the bank does not have to do anything for you. no shoes, no shirt, no civility, no service.

i won't whine about the tourists and the driving because no one wants to hear me say "take your foot off the brake and shove it up your ass" anymore than necessary, me included. today has just been icky for no one reason. it's an icky grouchy day and i'm so glad it's almost time to go home and watch angel and drink the world's most pathetic cocktail (not the drink at large, just my preparation). i am stopping by to say i'm finally back to 169. i haven't been trying the last week, but i have been exercising so something is working...if only a little. oh, and thanks for all the info on the shuffle. i've got some ducks to line up first but it looks like with all of your help i might be able to figure it out. kicking and screaming into the 21st century, am i.