Good Lord Dept.: A group of my coworkers are standing outside my office, chatting about some...I think, end o' the world/rapture novels. I mean, really.

This morning, after my usual get up/bathe, walk the dog, feed the dog/feed myself routine I walked into the bathroom.

"Give me a kiss," I said to Sonya, "I got to go."

"Oh, really? Well..." Suddenly the world blurred and my ears buzzed. The next thing I knew I was standing in front of the ironing board, taking the wrinkles out of Sonya's pants.

I still can't figure out exactly how that happened. I think she used her feminine wiles on me.

What did I want to ask the drunk, loudly-whistling homeless guy on the trolley today at lunch?

"Excuse me, bud, but next time could you maybe pee on yourself one more time so that you'll stink a little more before you get on the trolley?"

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