The Shoutbox
"Well, then, I'm happy and sad for you."

PM me, mister! I want to hear more about this insanity.
Hey Mary. I have taken a bizarre step.

I have started...

"THE NOVEL"

DUN DUN DUN!!
Thank you for validating my inadequacy.

But you'd think that most people would also know that blind people don't drive... and yet there is Braille on my bank's drive-thru...
I don't know, but I think most folks are hip to the fact that epileptics can't have a driver's license. They probably think more properly that you're just a spaz.
My problem is the bopping around in the seat of the car. You know -- head shaking and nodding to the beat, coupled with the singing. I have to wonder if the other drivers think I'm having an epileptic fit.
Songs that are embarassing to be found loudly singing to at a traffic light: campy '80s classic "I Know What Boys Like" by The Waitresses.

Oy. It's the kind of experience that makes you want to pony up the dough for heavily-tinted windows.

"I know what boys like, I know whay guys want, I know what boys like, boys like, boys like me..."
...and there you have it.

"It's only a model."
"I don't wanna talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!"


Smelt, smelled. Tomato, tomahto.

Let's call the whole thing off.
I thought it was "smelt of elderberries"?
Oh yeah, I'm so tired right now I'm not even thinking straight.