About an hour ago you went into The-Little-Shop-of-Whorrors to pick up your checklet. Not quite a check, but it will do.
When you enter the shop you notice a mass of soaking wet towels sitting around the waste of space that is the brick pond in the shop.
According to The-Owner something happened to one of the fountains over the night and soaked about $500 worth of merchandise. The only reason you find this blog-worthy is because you so warned The-Owner about the condition of her fountains. And you love saying you told someone so.
Moving on...
The news just announced that there is new information on The-Lane-Bryant-Killer. This is the first you've heard of said killer. Naturally you laughed your ass off. Whoever came up with the name The-Lane-Bryant-Killer is obviously a Fatty-Hater. But you digress. Perhaps you're just jaded. You won't be laughing when theres a Gay-Fat-Killer. Damnit.
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