So it's a tuesday night, and the house has television, for the first time since I don't know when. Gau went out and purchased an antenna, and so the evening was spent watching American Idol. Huh.

Anyway, saw Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic last week, and have to say, not as funny as I'd hoped. Not as offensive, really, either. If the entire point is here is a pretty woman saying horrific things, than I can think of quite a few people equally deserving of movies (I think I've tried to date all of them.)

Anyway, moving outwards and onwards . . . working at the store has sort of leveled off at a somewhat reasonable level lately, now we only have the nuts to deal with, the greek women who scream and demand special consideration ("I BOUGHT A TORT LIKE THAT LAST WEEK" "No you didn't, maam, because we can't make a tort like that. We literally can't. It is impossible. Perhaps you hallucinated the entire event, or maybe the cowls of fat about your eyes caused your retinas to distend and thus warped your perception of our tort, but you did not buy a square tort") the russians who will do everything they can to avoid waiting in line, even following you down the counter to where you're making a drink for a customer five, maybe six ahead of them, and will clear their throats, and then the Americans who can't for the life of them pronounce Amendoa. Not Amedeus, not Almondoo, not Amanda. Phonics, bitch, phonics.

Thats my bitch of the day. Anyway, I'm off to make fun of some crippled children while their wheelchairs are still stuck in the snowbank out front.