Oh dear, I think my public defender friend needs a vacation. She just admitted that she said, in court "They're being poopie-heads and, well, I'm trying to make them not be poopie-heads."

It's very quiet today.

Kelly Clarkson won 2 Grammys. I like her, but I have to wonder if that woman who won the acting reality show is gonna ever win an Oscar.

Best first line for a story evah:

Al Michaels was traded from ABC to NBC for a cartoon bunny, four rounds of golf and Olympic highlights.

The bunny in question is Walt Disney's precursor to Mickey Mouse, Oswald the Rabbit. [link]

Man killed with coffee mug. (Not going to post an excerpt because it's a pretty graphic article.)

Happy Birthday, Maidengurl! I hope you brought some good reading material to your treatment. *g*

Zillow says my house is worth at least $50K more than I thought it was. As in, it's more than doubled in value since I bought it.

Man, it makes me want to sell, cash out, and go live in the South Pacific.

Happy Birthday Maidengurl!

Okay, my upstairs neighbors are very nice and have been really quiet lately, but they are pretty flaky sometimes. I was sitting down after supper, and the doorbell rang. All my friends know my front door doesn't lock, and just walk into the foyer and knock on my door. If the doorbell rings, it's almost always for upstairs. So I ignored it. Then someone upstairs comes down and opens the door, and it's one of their friends. Then they stand in the foyer and have a conversation trying to figure out which doorbell is for which apartment, and proceed to ring my doorbell about 5 times in a row. At which point I open the door and say, "You're ringing my doorbell!" And they're like "Oh, is that your doorbell? We weren't sure." Aaah!

It's not a huge leap of logic that the lower doorbell belongs to the groundfloor apartment and the upper doorbell belongs to the upstairs apartment, is it? Because it seems to be beyond the cognitive abilities of most of their friends.

At which point I open the door and say, "You're ringing my doorbell!" And they're like "Oh, is that your doorbell? We weren't sure." Aaah!

Oy vey. They sound like idiots. This isn't the drug-issues neighbor, is it?

Man, it makes me want to sell, cash out, and go live in the South Pacific.

One of my professors keeps talking about friends of his who are talking about selling their place in the West Village ($$$$) and buying a place out in Queens near msbelle ($$), and using the rest of the money for Other Stuff. It's not a crazy notion...

I had the funniest subway trip home just now. First I was reading a fun book. Then there were two high school boys trying to chat up this young woman who was just amused. I think everyone on our end of the car was laughing. One of the boys finally said, "Come on, miss -- at some point, the priest is going to have to say Do you take... to be your wife, and I'll have to know then!!" Heh. Stupid boy. Then on my way out of the train, there was a man behind me singing Jodeci, so now I'm listening to them. Good times.

Oy vey. They sound like idiots. This isn't the drug-issues neighbor, is it?

Nope, just flaky. Dude has been living here since October, and he hasn't figured out which doorbell is his yet. Seriously.

That's well beyond flaky, I'd say.

Belated {{{{{{Trudy}}}}}}, I truly empathize.

Bratac is on CSI!