To Be Freaky

After meeting in front of the "stupid bank," (we call it stupid because all of the apparel stores in the neighborhood are being replaced by banks). Actually banks are pretty smart. Had Wendy's (for the first time since watching "Super-Size Me") and went to Duane Reade with Traci who was buying a farting, singing Santa. And that wasn't even the freaky part. We were in line to pay and suddenly this women enters yelling something about, "Wait, till I get through the door!" and stomps through all of us. Two seconds later the man (who she was arguing with) sticks just his head in the door and yells, "Idiot!" To which she replies, after his head is outside again, "You're mother is a fucking idiot." Everyone laughed. Ah, the holidays in the city. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

When I ask my friends how to cope with the freaks and the freaks in Santa hats, I get responses like these:

Traci: Hunker down and ride out the insanity
Julie: Hibernation. It would be nice to be able to eat all we wanted and then live off the fat and emerge from our dens skinny, though, wouldn't it?

Ponder Away.

Thank you for your advice Traci and Julie. And Julie I dedicate the use of the all those parentheses to you. Merry Christmas.