Cute cat, what's its name?

I must say the day is passing at a fairly decent clip. I keep sipping at my cold, bitter Americano, though, so it can't that great a day.

The highlight of my morning (other than "As fine as you?"), would be my being forced to pass a message to Pedophile Ed from his doctor's office. Just an appointment reminder. Unfortunately, this prompted from him, "My wife thinks I have skin cancer." Don't get hung up on the fact that this slimeball loser actually has a wife; he infact does and she's terribly possessive, no less. But then he proceeded to tell me all about his moles. Ever have one of those conversations where you are just left utterly clueless as to your next cue? I would have walked away if I wasn't already in my own lab.

And the goddamn printer just locked up for the second time today in the middle of the biggest fucking order of making a CD from 1100 files. So I will continue to bore the shit out of you.

Almost had a classic moment with me at the front counter and Superfly Amadeus Shaft playing something vaguely inappropriate in the back. It wasn't loud enough (sadly). In my folder of 80s shite for the wedding party, I have the occasional clip from a movie. Well, this would be the infamous rental car scene from Planes, Trains and Automobiles. If only it had been on full-blast with me off in the bathroom. Unfortunately, the retail/customer service world has me beaten too deeply into submission to allow such things to happen.

And now that I've screwed myself by openly stating that the day has gone by quickly, it will drag worse than any film we might have at the Angelika. As D is closing tonight, I will just have to fantasize about my evening with Downfall (thanks, Netfux), red wine and fried pickles. I know I'm gross, bite me.