Hokay.....

It is raining here in sheets. No one in their right mind would leave the house. No one.

Except me, I guess, and a handful of people on the busses.

I was really really sour. But groceries had to be bought for the weekend, and so on... Everything closes down at five p.m. today after all....

And it wasn't just raining, Preciousses... it pissed down in sheets, with thunder and lightning, and I hate that stuff.

Haven't done a 'riding the busses' post of late. But this is classic. I had to transfer, and there were two seemingly run-down guys in the middle of a 'very important discussion'. The first I heard was:

'He paid fourty thousand dollars for medication, EVERY MONTH! Hell, I drink five BEERS a day, and am ok....'

And I thought, 'WHAA?'

But it got better....

'And then those nose jobs, he was schiach.'

That is dialect for ugly.

The other guy: 'Oh yeah, he was always schiach.'

And then he added... 'But that is what happens when you get famous. THAT was schiach. And then the parasites GET you.'

They were talking about Michael Jackson.

Well just knock me to hell, hey.

I see no hope in reporting any more from here.

If the men on the street just fixate on that.

Sad, sad, sad...