The only saving grace of the day is that tomorrow it's Friday. Although Friday is my busiest work day, and I am ill-equipped to deal with the demands today. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I'm too young to hate everyone like I do. Actually, I love everyone. I'm nice like that. It's -well- just the stupid people of the world I detest. And we all know how many of those idiots exist!!

I hate the four country bumpkins who just came in and asked me to go to the beach with them so they could "check out my body". (idiots!! it's FALL) The official spokesman of the group has an ode to Billy Ray Cyrus dangling from his head. And a shirt that says "Help, I've dropped my beer and I can't get up". And a trucker hat with the naked mudflap lady on it. I'm so tempted, but it would be a doomed love affair. I don't like to barbeque on my lawn.

I'm also feeling bitter because I like to write, but I have nothing exciting to write about. I'm tempted to make up some tittilating orgies with trapeezes and bearded women and juggling bears. At least someone might, I don't know, READ this. Instead, my big story includes four rednecks and a headache. Riveting.