THE CONVERSATION
Mr. B and I are sitting at the playground, and a very nice little boy joins us.
Me: Hello there.
Boy: When we were on the 405 we passed a HUGE CEMETARY!
Me: Really?
Boy: Yeah, there are DEAD PEOPLE BURIED THERE!
Me: Well, where do people go after they die?
Boy: They go to heaven. I KNOW THIS FOR SURE!
Me: How old are you?
Boy: I'm five.
Me: Do you go to school yet?
Boy: Yes, I go to karate school.
Me: Um hmmm.
Boy: There are HUNDREDS of people laying under the ground. And their loved ones come and VISIT THEM.
Me: . . . . . .
BLESSINGS
Due to some incredible stroke of good luck, when I sit at my computer at night, the moon shines directly into my window, showering me with moonlight.
Vedic wisdom shares that moonlight is SOMA, the nectar of the Gods.
I definitely agree.
THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT
Due to repeated, almost daily visits to the parking lot on Sunset and Via de la Paz, the PARKING NAZI there recognizes me in the BEHEMOTH, and consequently says "hello" as he hands over my pink parking ticket with the date and time stamped on it. (This took a good 8 months to get this greeting rather than a scowl and an attitude that conveyed sincere hatred)
So, very cool, Mr. B and I had two hours free in which to attend to our business there: Cafe Vida for french fries and iced tea, extra ice (of course), then the bank. Cafe Vida stamped our parking ticket, validating us for the PARKING NAZI. Then, Mr. B and I hit the bank, whereas I mistakenly left the pink parking ticket out in the open, for Mr. B to contemplate.
Well, after finishing banking business with my favorite teller MARTIN, I turned to find the pink parking ticket missing, and Mr. B looking quite pleased with himself.
"SPIT IT OUT", I calmly ordered. Which he did.
The PARKING NAZI began to give me some bit of grief over the ball of slimy, pink/grey/black nothingness, but then actually almost SMILED (almost) and warned me not to let it happen again.
HAH! Guess I'll take the PARKING NAZI some cookies come this Christmas.
TGG WAS HERE
It's always obvious when C-note has been hanging around: guitar picks scattered randomly throughout the house, and sunflower seed shells in the BEHEMOTH.
MOOLA
The Bad News: I accidentally picked up my ziplock bag of change upsidedown, and all of the change went flying everywhere in my car.
The Good News: After putting it all back in the bag, and then through the CoinStar machine at Ralphs, I netted eighty bucks. Yeah!
