I was going to scan in a coupon for 20¢ off a Sliced Roast Beef dinner plate at the Beefeater and post it here but I left it in my pocket when I did laundry last night. Now I'm not even sure I can use it.
Really disappointed. It doesn't have any expiration date and I was saving these two dimes to throw at the Pope.
We're in the depths of Spring here in St Clair Shores. With Spring comes the warm weather. With the warm weather come the Ice Cream Trucks. Normally they creep through the neighborhood to a crude loop of The Entertainer. Since 2pm Saturday an Ice Cream Truck has been parked in front of my house. Parked. No music, no motion. It just sat there. All day. And all night for all I know. It was there when I got up on Sunday and it's still there now, Monday morning. The Ice Cream Man sits there at his window, thumbing through a copy of Popular Mechanics. Every so often he looks up at my house with a scowl. The truck is filled with ice cream. It's not a decoy. It's filled with Ice Cream this Ice Cream Man refuses to sell. I know. I asked. He just glared at me in silence. I even offered him double...
“Do you remember any Wall Street bankers being dragged off in handcuffs when they blew up the financial system and bilked people out of trillions of dollars?”
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I’d like to dig a huge hole, push western civilization into it and cover it with 45,000lbs of sand and concrete.
Self-congratulatory morning radio was the winner this time.
