All Things Profane and Sacred

It was a long weekend. My roomate who had the snip snip on Thursday had some errands to run on Friday. His girlfriend biffed it pretty badly on Wednesday-she did a header off her bike into the sidewalk-and he needed to visit her in the ICU because she had just regained consciousness. Then he needed to go out to Buttfuck, Milwaukie to catch a ride to Eugene to go to a job interview (I shit you not). Since he offered me some hot sweet cash and since I didn't have a whole lot else on my plate, I was driving his ice pack on the crotch'ed ass all around town. He had the map and was giving directions. It didn't work out so well. Life lesson learned: Never let someone all fucked up on Vicodin be your co-pilot.

On my way home, I got a call from J. He thought he only misplaced his ATM card, but when he went to the bank, he discovered that it had been stolen and all our money had been blown at Fred Meyer and Jack in the Box. Now we have to wait while the bank "investigates" to get our goddamn money back in the bank where it belongs. Luckily our bank is WaMu, so they were actually very on the ball and helpful, which is lucky for them. I've taken consumer law and I have a lot of time on my hands.