Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.
I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather. Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.
Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.
The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it’s still on the list.
Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
If I agreed with you we’d both be wrong.
We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.
War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
The early bird might get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.
Evening news is where they begin with ‘Good evening’, and then proceed to tell you why it isn’t.
A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.
How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?
Some people are like Slinkies ... not really good for anything, but you can’t help smiling when you see one tumble down the stairs.
Dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish.
I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.
Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?
Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.
Why do Americans choose from just two people to run for president and 50 for Miss America?
Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.
A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.
The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!
Always borrow money from a pessimist. He won’t expect it back.
A diplomat is someone who can tell you to go to hell in such a way that you will look forward to the trip.
Hospitality: making your guests feel like they’re at home, even if you wish they were.
Some cause happiness wherever they go. Others whenever they go.
There’s a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can’t get away.
I used to be indecisive. Now I’m not sure.
I always take life with a grain of salt, plus a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila.
When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.
You’re never too old to learn something stupid.
To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.
Some people hear voices. Some see invisible people. Others have no imagination
whatsoever.
A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it as when you are in it.
If you are supposed to learn from your mistakes, why do some people have more than one child?
Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.
I asked god for a bike, but I know god doesn’t work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
What is a Teabagger
Teabaggers are misinformed, right-wing corporate media consumers who often fail to understand that BOTH major parties represent a corrupt plutocracy that steals from the middle class by taxing labor and profiting from corporate tax subsidies.
A teabagger also often fails to acknowledge that George W. Bush and his neo-conservative minions perpetrated one of the boldest and most egregious executive power grabs in the history of the United States. Furthermore, teabaggers mistakenly continue to blame a newly elected President Obama for all that ails the United States of America, based on a grossly flawed perception of reality (including latent racial prejudice) and despite the fact the U.S. economy collapsed on the previous administration’s watch.
Teabaggers are also known to base their misguided, right-wing-media -inspired beliefs about President Obama on stupid conspiracy theories about totalitarian takeovers, FEMA camps, etc., despite the fact these very same theories have been circulating around on the Internet for years, and were originally ascribed to neo-conservative capitalists at a time when Barack Obama had not even entered national politics. Teabaggers also are known to be particularly paranoid, xenophobic and intolerant, especially with regard to immigrants and anyone who isn’t white.
Additionally, teabaggers generally echo stupid myths about entitlement spending (it actually only accounts for about 1% of federal budget spending), have no idea that most poor people
in America are not lazy, actually do work and don’t want to be on welfare, and have no idea what socialism actually means or that socialist reform in this country is actually what allowed a middle class to flourish and ultimately make the U.S. one of the most prosperous nations in human history.
Furthermore, teabaggers incorrectly equate socialism with Stalinism, think a system that rewards greed (capitalism) is the divine preference (despite Gospel evidence to the contrary), and are shameless champions of a misguided belief in American exceptionalism. Teabaggers also fail to recognize the inherently unpatriotic nature of their failed every-man-for-himself ideology that ultimately vilifies anyone who supports public policy aimed at reaching out to fellow Americans in need. They celebrate an exploitative corporatocracy (holy creator of jobs, blah blah blah) while denigrating the little guy for being "weak."
Interestingly, teabaggers uphold an immoral, morbidly obese, twice divorced, draft-dodging, college dropout and known drug addict as their de facto leader, and are even known to advocate burning books. Of course, teabaggers fail to recognize the blatant hypocrisy within the GOP and tend to oversimplify all political debate and social issues, much like their pseudo-intellectual, fat-@#$% leader.
Finally, incredibly, teabaggers fail to recognize the hysterical double entendre associated with their proudly adopted teabag moniker.
Every village has its idiots, of course, but it’s sad when citizens of any nation allow themselves to be whipped into a frenzy enmasse by a state-run propaganda machine masquerading as a legitimate, fair, balanced and independent news organization.
Teabaggers are RIGHT to believe the future of the U.S.A. is in jeopardy, but sadly they have not yet correctly identified the real enemy. Perhaps when teabaggers finally grow up and mature into thinking adults, they will see the right-leaning power establishment for the oppressive and cunning beast that it is.
Teabagger: We don’t care that George Bush tripled the deficit, lied us into a war, and increased the government by 25%. The new administration only cut taxes for 90% of the population... fascists. Let’s go throw some Lipton tea bags into a fountain.
A teabagger also often fails to acknowledge that George W. Bush and his neo-conservative minions perpetrated one of the boldest and most egregious executive power grabs in the history of the United States. Furthermore, teabaggers mistakenly continue to blame a newly elected President Obama for all that ails the United States of America, based on a grossly flawed perception of reality (including latent racial prejudice) and despite the fact the U.S. economy collapsed on the previous administration’s watch.
Teabaggers are also known to base their misguided, right-wing-media -inspired beliefs about President Obama on stupid conspiracy theories about totalitarian takeovers, FEMA camps, etc., despite the fact these very same theories have been circulating around on the Internet for years, and were originally ascribed to neo-conservative capitalists at a time when Barack Obama had not even entered national politics. Teabaggers also are known to be particularly paranoid, xenophobic and intolerant, especially with regard to immigrants and anyone who isn’t white.
Additionally, teabaggers generally echo stupid myths about entitlement spending (it actually only accounts for about 1% of federal budget spending), have no idea that most poor people
in America are not lazy, actually do work and don’t want to be on welfare, and have no idea what socialism actually means or that socialist reform in this country is actually what allowed a middle class to flourish and ultimately make the U.S. one of the most prosperous nations in human history.
Furthermore, teabaggers incorrectly equate socialism with Stalinism, think a system that rewards greed (capitalism) is the divine preference (despite Gospel evidence to the contrary), and are shameless champions of a misguided belief in American exceptionalism. Teabaggers also fail to recognize the inherently unpatriotic nature of their failed every-man-for-himself ideology that ultimately vilifies anyone who supports public policy aimed at reaching out to fellow Americans in need. They celebrate an exploitative corporatocracy (holy creator of jobs, blah blah blah) while denigrating the little guy for being "weak."
Interestingly, teabaggers uphold an immoral, morbidly obese, twice divorced, draft-dodging, college dropout and known drug addict as their de facto leader, and are even known to advocate burning books. Of course, teabaggers fail to recognize the blatant hypocrisy within the GOP and tend to oversimplify all political debate and social issues, much like their pseudo-intellectual, fat-@#$% leader.
Finally, incredibly, teabaggers fail to recognize the hysterical double entendre associated with their proudly adopted teabag moniker.
Every village has its idiots, of course, but it’s sad when citizens of any nation allow themselves to be whipped into a frenzy enmasse by a state-run propaganda machine masquerading as a legitimate, fair, balanced and independent news organization.
Teabaggers are RIGHT to believe the future of the U.S.A. is in jeopardy, but sadly they have not yet correctly identified the real enemy. Perhaps when teabaggers finally grow up and mature into thinking adults, they will see the right-leaning power establishment for the oppressive and cunning beast that it is.
Teabagger: We don’t care that George Bush tripled the deficit, lied us into a war, and increased the government by 25%. The new administration only cut taxes for 90% of the population... fascists. Let’s go throw some Lipton tea bags into a fountain.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Jury Duty
About every 2 years, I get a jury summons. The last one back in 2008 involved an alleged dui. In that case, I voted to acquit due to lack of evidence. That service took about a week and a half. Resigned to the possibility of another week or more of service, I was prepared for the 50 mile round trip bike ride. Frankly, I really don’t care if I hear "On your left" or have to put up with a caravan of 20 cyclists whizzing by me in lycra shorts and Italian t-shirts. Today was my day. I allocated the entire day to this event since I had no idea if I was going to need to serve or not. The only instructions were to arrive in front of the Superior Court at 11:30 AM and then call an 800 number for further instructions.
The normal travel time from Gold River to downtown Sacramento via bike is usually around 2 hours give or take 10 minutes. I left at around 7:45 AM just to be safe. Weather was good, light wind, cool temperature and the trail was empty of bikes. Notice I said bikes. There are plenty of joggers out at that time. By the time I passed Hagan Park, there were more cyclists crowding the trail. I always wonder how they have time to zip up and down the trails during work hours since they are clearly not dressed for work or carry any changes of clothing, unless of course they keep a change of clothes at work. I would say about 95% of the people I see on the trail are there to exercise whereas I am on the trail to go someplace and happen to be exercising in the process.Anyways, I made it to the railroad trestle near downtown by 10 AM. That gave me plenty of time since the travel time from the trestle to my destination was not more than15 minutes.
I decided to detour to the 99 cent store to stock up on drinks. I had long ago emptied my water bottle and the thought of downing a big bottle of Gatorade excited me. Yes, this is the same 99 cent store mentioned in a previous blog entry. Corner of El Camino Ave and Northgate Blvd in South Natomas. Going there always brings back fond memories of working at LEED and the Farm Bureau on Gateway Oaks Blvd. This 99 cent store is always well stocked and today was no exception. I headed straight for the drink aisle and picked up water, Gatorade, an energy drink and some Arizona tea. Outside, it was time to apply some more sunblock. After getting all slathered up, I hopped on my bike and headed back to the trail. I stopped at the trestle and eagerly sucked down the Gatorade. That tasted really good after riding 2 hours. Finally, I arrived at the courthouse at exactly 11:30 AM. Here was the moment of truth. I dialed the 800 number, followed the prompts and arrived at a robotic voice that said, "Group 531, your group is not needed at this time. Your service is completed."
Oh, okay. So no need to serve. I was basically done for the day. Now I just needed to return home. I had 2 other items on my agenda for that day. One was to exchange my old RT tickets for new ones and the other was to purchase another digital clock for my bedroom since Pumpkin took mine. First stop was the RT office on R street. I was surprised to see a long line of people waiting in line. Maybe it had something to do with being the first of the month. While waiting, I was forced to listen to a fat heifer gush about her grandchild to another woman and a man that would make strange gurgling noises about every 3 minutes. My turn certainly didn’t take very long. "Sorry, sir but none of those tickets are any good anymore." "None?," I asked. "None," she smiled. Oh well. That was about 15 minutes of wasted time.
I was pretty sure there was a Big Lots store somewhere on Folsom Blvd near Power Inn Road. I had a vague idea on how to make it over to Folsom Blvd from downtown. I knew it was somewhere off of Alhambra just east of the Cap City Freeway but as far as getting over there, I didn’t know which streets were the quietest route for bikes. Somehow I ended up heading east on Q street then north on 21st street. These are streets I do not normally bike on so I was not familiar with the traffic nor the terrain. This turned out to be a bad decision. I recognized the Chinese dim sum place I went to a long time ago but nothing else. Turns out that at each intersection there is an extra peninsula of sidewalk to allow walkers to avoid getting hit by cars. Okay, that’s nice. I am always supportive of walk friendly streets. But a sidewalk jutting out into the street is not bike friendly. I momentarily gazed up to look at a restaurant coming up on my right, imagining that I was wolfing down a giant burrito with green salsa and failed to see the curb. Bam! The bike lurched to the side and I fell immediately onto the pavement, eating some asphalt and scraping up my right knee in the process. Oh shit! My immediate thought was not my knee but whether my bike held out okay. This was crucial because there really was no other way home for me. I immediately got up and checked the bike. Seemed okay. "Hey, buddy. You okay?", a guy called out from a large SUV behind dark tinted windows. I waved at him and motioned that indeed, I was fine. Well, the truth was that I wasn’t all that fine. I’ve been in worse accidents but my knee stung pretty badly. I am sitting in the middle of a concrete jungle so there aren’t any bathrooms nearby and my next order of business was to find some way to wash off my knee. By the way, I was wearing shorts which from a certain perspective was actually a good thing since it made it easier to clean the wound. I continued riding, looking for a park, anyplace to wash but not thinking strategically about where I was riding. I was paying attention to the ground which was good but choosing the wrong streets to ride. I turned right on J street and found myself playing cat and mouse with cars. A small sedan passed within inches of my handlebar. One false move and I would have ended up in the ER.
Fortunately, I quickly detoured south on 26th street and was relieved to find myself in front of Sutter’s Fort. Okay, there has to be a bathroom here. There are plenty of fountains, a duck pond and a drinking fountain. Ah ha, a bathroom! I quickly went in and of course there was no soap in it because it is one of those public bathrooms that homeless use. I splashed water on the scrape and winced in pain. Did that help? Probably not.I was 25 miles from home with a scrapped knee. The weather was kind of hot and I was hungry. I finally found Folsom Blvd. This is the beginning of a road that goes all the way to the Folsom bridge about 30+ miles away. Here it is a narrow street. When it finally passes Power Inn Road it becomes a wide 4 lane boulevard. My decision was made, though. I was going to look for Big Lots, quickly grab a clock then find a place to eat nearby. That wasn’t going to pan out because Big Lots no longer existed on Folsom Blvd. Okay, forget about Big Lots, I thought to myself. My stomach was growling and I was going through an empty stretch of road. I continued on and found El Forastero, a taqueria just east of Watt Ave. I could have gone to La Bou which would have probably been a better experience but I still had a burrito floating around in my head. I ordered the California burrito which turned out to be a messy, greasy concoction without any lettuce, tomato or other green vege on it. I loaded it up with salsa to make it at least halfway decent. Still, it was a heavy dish that took a long time to finish, A group of nursing students, probably from one of those vocational colleges nearby came in after me and each one ordered a combination plate filled with beans, rice, nachos, cheese you name it. They were chattering up a storm and somehow chowing down in the process. I had made it halfway through my burrito and was surprised to see them busing their trays. One of them belched as she dropped her tray contents into the trash can. She was kind of attractive but when she belched, that thought was immediately erased and replaced with revulsion.
I wanted out of there and so I speeded up my meal. I got out and hopped on my bike. Only this time, I felt weighted down. That really was a mistake but too late now. I suddenly had a thought: What about buying the clock at Walmart? It was on the way, after all. That was going to be my final stop before going home. I was about 4 miles away. I fell into somewhat of a trance while riding. There was not much traffic so I just day dreamed. About a half hour later I arrived at the Rancho Cordova Walmart. I locked my bike up and sauntered in. An old lady in glasses called out, "Welcome to Walmart." I was a sweaty mess with a red knee that had now crusted over slightly but she must have seen worse because it didn’t phase her. Wow! What a difference. The store had gone through a complete makeover. There was a supermarket with a deli section. I almost didn’t recognize where I was. I had to wander around for a while. Finally, I located the clocks and grabbed an extra large digital one to put on my dresser in my bedroom. I had another thought: Don’t I need some pants? Most of my pants had already become gooby pants and it really was time. I found the jeans area and located a pair of $10 jeans. That was my price. Straight leg, relaxed fit. Even though I knew my size, I thought I should still try it on. I looked around and saw the dressing rooms. I pulled up my cart and took out the pair and said "just one pair" to a pregnant Russian looking woman with a name tag that said "Olga" sitting down in front of the only 2 rooms to change in. She motioned to the room on the right. The door was closed. I asked, "Is this available?" She nodded her head and continued talking with her coworker who was standing next to her. I turned the knob and pushed on the door. The door opened and I stood face to face with the ass of a large, naked woman who was bending over right in front of me. Oh shit! That was the last thing I expected to see and it was a revolting sight but I reacted quickly and shut the door without her knowing. Good thing too. I am sure that the store’s pleasant background music would have been rudely interrupted by a blood curdling scream that would have shaken even the most seasoned shopper and store clerk. "Excuse me, but that room is taken." I was clearly shaken up but Olga didn’t even bat an eyelash. She just rolled her eyes and motioned to the other room. I made it out and hurried home. "What an ordeal," I thought to myself as I flopped down on the couch.
The normal travel time from Gold River to downtown Sacramento via bike is usually around 2 hours give or take 10 minutes. I left at around 7:45 AM just to be safe. Weather was good, light wind, cool temperature and the trail was empty of bikes. Notice I said bikes. There are plenty of joggers out at that time. By the time I passed Hagan Park, there were more cyclists crowding the trail. I always wonder how they have time to zip up and down the trails during work hours since they are clearly not dressed for work or carry any changes of clothing, unless of course they keep a change of clothes at work. I would say about 95% of the people I see on the trail are there to exercise whereas I am on the trail to go someplace and happen to be exercising in the process.Anyways, I made it to the railroad trestle near downtown by 10 AM. That gave me plenty of time since the travel time from the trestle to my destination was not more than15 minutes.
I decided to detour to the 99 cent store to stock up on drinks. I had long ago emptied my water bottle and the thought of downing a big bottle of Gatorade excited me. Yes, this is the same 99 cent store mentioned in a previous blog entry. Corner of El Camino Ave and Northgate Blvd in South Natomas. Going there always brings back fond memories of working at LEED and the Farm Bureau on Gateway Oaks Blvd. This 99 cent store is always well stocked and today was no exception. I headed straight for the drink aisle and picked up water, Gatorade, an energy drink and some Arizona tea. Outside, it was time to apply some more sunblock. After getting all slathered up, I hopped on my bike and headed back to the trail. I stopped at the trestle and eagerly sucked down the Gatorade. That tasted really good after riding 2 hours. Finally, I arrived at the courthouse at exactly 11:30 AM. Here was the moment of truth. I dialed the 800 number, followed the prompts and arrived at a robotic voice that said, "Group 531, your group is not needed at this time. Your service is completed."
Oh, okay. So no need to serve. I was basically done for the day. Now I just needed to return home. I had 2 other items on my agenda for that day. One was to exchange my old RT tickets for new ones and the other was to purchase another digital clock for my bedroom since Pumpkin took mine. First stop was the RT office on R street. I was surprised to see a long line of people waiting in line. Maybe it had something to do with being the first of the month. While waiting, I was forced to listen to a fat heifer gush about her grandchild to another woman and a man that would make strange gurgling noises about every 3 minutes. My turn certainly didn’t take very long. "Sorry, sir but none of those tickets are any good anymore." "None?," I asked. "None," she smiled. Oh well. That was about 15 minutes of wasted time.
I was pretty sure there was a Big Lots store somewhere on Folsom Blvd near Power Inn Road. I had a vague idea on how to make it over to Folsom Blvd from downtown. I knew it was somewhere off of Alhambra just east of the Cap City Freeway but as far as getting over there, I didn’t know which streets were the quietest route for bikes. Somehow I ended up heading east on Q street then north on 21st street. These are streets I do not normally bike on so I was not familiar with the traffic nor the terrain. This turned out to be a bad decision. I recognized the Chinese dim sum place I went to a long time ago but nothing else. Turns out that at each intersection there is an extra peninsula of sidewalk to allow walkers to avoid getting hit by cars. Okay, that’s nice. I am always supportive of walk friendly streets. But a sidewalk jutting out into the street is not bike friendly. I momentarily gazed up to look at a restaurant coming up on my right, imagining that I was wolfing down a giant burrito with green salsa and failed to see the curb. Bam! The bike lurched to the side and I fell immediately onto the pavement, eating some asphalt and scraping up my right knee in the process. Oh shit! My immediate thought was not my knee but whether my bike held out okay. This was crucial because there really was no other way home for me. I immediately got up and checked the bike. Seemed okay. "Hey, buddy. You okay?", a guy called out from a large SUV behind dark tinted windows. I waved at him and motioned that indeed, I was fine. Well, the truth was that I wasn’t all that fine. I’ve been in worse accidents but my knee stung pretty badly. I am sitting in the middle of a concrete jungle so there aren’t any bathrooms nearby and my next order of business was to find some way to wash off my knee. By the way, I was wearing shorts which from a certain perspective was actually a good thing since it made it easier to clean the wound. I continued riding, looking for a park, anyplace to wash but not thinking strategically about where I was riding. I was paying attention to the ground which was good but choosing the wrong streets to ride. I turned right on J street and found myself playing cat and mouse with cars. A small sedan passed within inches of my handlebar. One false move and I would have ended up in the ER.
Fortunately, I quickly detoured south on 26th street and was relieved to find myself in front of Sutter’s Fort. Okay, there has to be a bathroom here. There are plenty of fountains, a duck pond and a drinking fountain. Ah ha, a bathroom! I quickly went in and of course there was no soap in it because it is one of those public bathrooms that homeless use. I splashed water on the scrape and winced in pain. Did that help? Probably not.I was 25 miles from home with a scrapped knee. The weather was kind of hot and I was hungry. I finally found Folsom Blvd. This is the beginning of a road that goes all the way to the Folsom bridge about 30+ miles away. Here it is a narrow street. When it finally passes Power Inn Road it becomes a wide 4 lane boulevard. My decision was made, though. I was going to look for Big Lots, quickly grab a clock then find a place to eat nearby. That wasn’t going to pan out because Big Lots no longer existed on Folsom Blvd. Okay, forget about Big Lots, I thought to myself. My stomach was growling and I was going through an empty stretch of road. I continued on and found El Forastero, a taqueria just east of Watt Ave. I could have gone to La Bou which would have probably been a better experience but I still had a burrito floating around in my head. I ordered the California burrito which turned out to be a messy, greasy concoction without any lettuce, tomato or other green vege on it. I loaded it up with salsa to make it at least halfway decent. Still, it was a heavy dish that took a long time to finish, A group of nursing students, probably from one of those vocational colleges nearby came in after me and each one ordered a combination plate filled with beans, rice, nachos, cheese you name it. They were chattering up a storm and somehow chowing down in the process. I had made it halfway through my burrito and was surprised to see them busing their trays. One of them belched as she dropped her tray contents into the trash can. She was kind of attractive but when she belched, that thought was immediately erased and replaced with revulsion.
I wanted out of there and so I speeded up my meal. I got out and hopped on my bike. Only this time, I felt weighted down. That really was a mistake but too late now. I suddenly had a thought: What about buying the clock at Walmart? It was on the way, after all. That was going to be my final stop before going home. I was about 4 miles away. I fell into somewhat of a trance while riding. There was not much traffic so I just day dreamed. About a half hour later I arrived at the Rancho Cordova Walmart. I locked my bike up and sauntered in. An old lady in glasses called out, "Welcome to Walmart." I was a sweaty mess with a red knee that had now crusted over slightly but she must have seen worse because it didn’t phase her. Wow! What a difference. The store had gone through a complete makeover. There was a supermarket with a deli section. I almost didn’t recognize where I was. I had to wander around for a while. Finally, I located the clocks and grabbed an extra large digital one to put on my dresser in my bedroom. I had another thought: Don’t I need some pants? Most of my pants had already become gooby pants and it really was time. I found the jeans area and located a pair of $10 jeans. That was my price. Straight leg, relaxed fit. Even though I knew my size, I thought I should still try it on. I looked around and saw the dressing rooms. I pulled up my cart and took out the pair and said "just one pair" to a pregnant Russian looking woman with a name tag that said "Olga" sitting down in front of the only 2 rooms to change in. She motioned to the room on the right. The door was closed. I asked, "Is this available?" She nodded her head and continued talking with her coworker who was standing next to her. I turned the knob and pushed on the door. The door opened and I stood face to face with the ass of a large, naked woman who was bending over right in front of me. Oh shit! That was the last thing I expected to see and it was a revolting sight but I reacted quickly and shut the door without her knowing. Good thing too. I am sure that the store’s pleasant background music would have been rudely interrupted by a blood curdling scream that would have shaken even the most seasoned shopper and store clerk. "Excuse me, but that room is taken." I was clearly shaken up but Olga didn’t even bat an eyelash. She just rolled her eyes and motioned to the other room. I made it out and hurried home. "What an ordeal," I thought to myself as I flopped down on the couch.
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