Cheery Oh's and Cherry Ho's.

I learned that you can swim half a mile after eating McDonalds, but it requires the ability to swallow back puke with your head underwater (which apparently I have). I figured I'd try and make up for that ill judgement by eating cheerios and a pickle for breakfast (both are healthy, right?). That actually would have been fine except that the pickle was one of those gawd awfull 1.5 punders that you can get at the Boar's head deli. I should just stick to oreos and crickets.

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Right: 'Otherside'
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On a different note: Now that I can walk to work, I am beginning to miss all the great stories I used to hear from the regular prostitutes and drug addicts that rode my old bus (it stopped by both the county jail downtown and the methadone clinic, all between my on-stop, and off-stop).

I ran into one of them downtown yesterday and she started asking me how my daughter was, how work was going and that was fine (although it creeped me out that she knew all this) but the whole time I'm waiting there at the bust stop, she would be rambling and then occassionally mid-sentance ask some random passerby whether they were looking for a date or needed 'work' (not so code code for crack). This wouldn't normally bother me as I'm pretty friendly with all types, but this was in the middle of the business disctrict durring rush hour, and everyone around me was wearing suites and carrying briefcases, and somehow I just knew something was up, she was too comfortable and wasn't high.

This morning I saw her on my now current side of town getting out of the back of an unmarked van with three plaincloths, then hand them a manilla envelope. I guess she's a cop. Maybe I should find out how much that info is worth.

Weird.

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