So let me just tell you about yesterday: It starts off with me having to pick up a new license plate, because for some reason the state has decided this year mine needs to be replaced (Have BazzukaJoe and Dr. Sfingi remembered to renew their tags this month?) and so I start with the actual vehicle registration department, they send me to the Tax Collector, who sends me to Traffic Violations line...which I might add is 3 miles long and when I get to the counter they inform me I must leave the building and go to the Drivers License Department...where the line the 17 miles long...and a bit darker in skin tone. One hour online and finally I finally reach the counter and find the problem, in order to get my license plate some schmo here (which to my knowledge has nothing to do with the registration or plate of the vehicle) must physically check my insurance card in order for the Vehicle Registration Department to release my new plate. So I ask why such a big deal and they answer on March 25th I was pulled over, given no ticket or warning but didn't have my insurance card in the car. One problem: absolutely never happened. So the lady at the counter looks at the date on my insurance card, hits enter and gives me a sale receipt 2 feet long for $0.00. "Now go back to vehicle registration department and pick up your license plate". So I estimate my $31.00 plate cost taxpayers about $6,000 in wasted employee wages. So lets fast forward to the close of the business day, Merle comes by the store with family friend/hero Jacquie Carter and they somehow manage to convince me to join them for a nice stroll down Jupiter Beach. Admittedly, they both recommend I remove my shoes and roll up my jeans...which considering the distance we were from the ocean I scoffed at. Now my disdain for salt water and sand may be high...but it pales in comparison to my hatred for salt water and sand squishing through my socks and sneakers...which after the crash of a far reaching wave now resemble a pair of breaded chicken cutlets. Buts its still okay, because we truly had a great time out and agree to meet up at my house later in the night. So its now 7:30 pm I'm headed to Publix to pick up some goodies for my company and something for dinner for me and Jennie. Now I know very little has spoken about that elusive species "Stevis Girlfriendis"...but I will divulge a few previously unmentioned details. 1. Like Merle, she lives a lifestyle thats a bit healthier than my own. High vegetable diet and regular visits to the gym. Pilates and yoga. So at 7:45pm (in a starved and confused state and still squishing in my sneakers) when I call her for a dinner request...and it is "just salad". Not exactly my favorite, but I'll deal. Next I call Marlena and she kindly requests that tonight's munchies also be "health-oriented". So after more than 24 hours without food it will be salad for dinner and fruit for dessert. 2. Second fact about Jennie: she has a kickass baby cockerspaniel named Bentley. The dog is cute, sweet and very well tempered. However like most dogs...he has this bizarre predilection for cat turds. As we all know, my cat Bruno is cat-turd factory and so recently I've had to keep the litterbox out of Bentley's tempted reach. On this particular night, I elect to simply shut the guest room door thereby separating both cat and dog from litterbox. Jennie observes my actions and asks with a bit of concern, "won't it be a problem if Bruno has to use the box?". To which I answered almost mockingly "He can last two hours, and hes really smart, he'll meow if he has to go in". As I should have learned by now, always go against my natural instinct, especcially if it conflicts with the ideas of the smarter species. Merle, Jenia Flect, Jennie (who hasn't got a nickname yet) and myself are laughing it up on my couch when I see Jenia's eyes nearly pop out of his head. Indeed, my beloved housepet, Bruno the Wondercat without any warning had climbed upon my couch and shit something you would normally see fall out of a T-Rex's ass. Sheer horror...because as you can guess Bentley spotted this buffet of shit and rushed over for a warm meal. So is there a moral to this story? The world is against me: the DMV, Merle, Jennie, Jacquie, Bruno, Bentley, even the Beach itself is against me. The only one who really understands me: Barack Obama