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January 5, 2004

Slim Pickins

Greeting card stores make me queasy for some reason. And besides that, all I can figure is there must not be any money to be made in the miserable backwater business of anniversary cards. If you're looking for a birthday card, well put on your sunglasses and prepare to be dazzled as the fresh 128-Crayola box is opened before your greedy eyes. But you want an anniversary card, you say? Well here's the nubby 8-Crayola box, oh and by the way, the red and blue crayons were eaten a couple weeks ago. And 80% of what you do find is just dripping with make-me-wanna-barf. If I wasn't such a bum, I'd make my own.

I almost got nailed by a wanton, intersecting car while driving my lunch errands today, but through nimble use of my mediocre Midtown Madness skills, I swerved and weaved out from a certain crunching. Video games are the devil's work and all, but I'd swear they've pulled my butt out of a spot more than once.

[ed. 3 hrs later] Alrighty. I just passed that same stretch of road after picking Giselle up from school, and there was a fresh, glassy 3-car accident splayed across the median. No deaths or dismemberments like poor Rob always comes across, just a bunch of wide-eyed people on cel phones standing next to their cratered vehicles....Man, Rob is always seeing the aftermath of fatal car accidents. At least one or two per year, and he's not a reservist fireman or anything...just a guy driving a car around, seeing dead people. I'd probably need therapy...more than I already need :P

Posted by Jeremy at January 5, 2004 2:29 PM