Somebody Get Me A Bat And A Dresser

It is taking every waking muscle in my capabilities not to just let fly with a colossal bell-ringing pigeon-scattering outburst of the F word.

I am going to try.

So I go to my bank, to withdraw money so that's I can send off the money order for the Fantastic 4 poster. I'm going to put it caddy-corner to the Sin City poster, claim the corner in the name of Jessica. When I can't get the money, I go inside.

Inside it says some Travel something or other has taken my money, about $100 of it. So between the pittiance I had in the main account and the overdraft charge I'm now in the hole about $70.

This is Not Good.

So I call the number the teller gives me and find out it's the people who jumped on me when I bought the now-in-retrospect-due-to-Street-Scene completely unnecessary Snoop tickets. They offered a trial membership (which I took) and then a year membership (which, in May I sent e-mails to break off) for...you guessed it, $100.

So I call them up and read them the Riot Act and their Swear to their God my refund is coming in the next couple of business days.

That isn't going to work for me on a holiday weekend. On THE holiday weekend of the summer.

So instead of...pfft...having a life, I think I'm going to be stuck inside on Saturday barring some Miracle on 34th Street, working Sunday and ID4. So hitting the club with Rebecca, or taking the crushes on dates, or poker, or, y'know, living is all right out the door right now.

And of course the irony is, had I not decided to throw the biggest bomb of the summer last weekend, I'd have another $70-$80 in my pocket...

Life sure is beautiful, innit?

Current music: "Away" by Mercy Drive