I walk into the Post Office at 1:00 PM with an armload of quacking packages, 'Pod cranked up and plugged in, a little bag of cheese crackers in my pocket, set to wait it out for as long as it takes and there is no line. Not only is there no line, there is a guy standing behind the counter just waiting. Whoa. Name one other Century when that's happened, right? So I figure that deserves a celebration and I head for the drive-thru line, figuring I'll treat myself to a little bag of fries. Too.
And there's a sign there, says "Gift an Arch card." Huh? What, is this some sort of charity for homeless Arch cards or something? Are there homeless Arch cards? Like, orphans or something? Or do they mean give an Arch card? I have no idea. But at least I've got my fries, so there's hope.
Then I pull up to that 4-way stop, you know, the one over there - it's been there for about eight years now and people are still trying to figure out how it works - and some geezer pulls into the intersection from my right and does a complete 360º freakin' U in the intersection and drives out the way he came. Whaaaaaat? I'm just sitting there, blinking my eyes.
When I get home I have only one earbud in, the other one hanging down inside my jacket, and when I take it off, the jacket, it generates some static or something and I get a little snappy spark in my ear. Woohoo! Sexiest thing that's happened in a decade. Or so. I'm sitting here trying to make it happen again.
When I read Vice Darth, Trickshot Dick, is claiming Reps. Dingell and Murtha have small sticks.
See what I mean? No joke.
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