No Solicitors

Okay. You've come to my front door at 7:45pm, wanting me to sign some damn petition. I'm trying to cook dinner after 11 hours at work. The baby is screaming because your uninvited doorbell ringing has distracted him from the almighty breast. I don't care who you are, when I tell you I don't have time to talk to you, NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT, I am not kidding; I am not lying. Hear that baby crying? It's your fault and his mom is very busy right now. Smell that delicious food burning? I am not forfeiting dinner to listen to you. When I slam the door in your face, I hope you've figured these things out, because if I have to explain it to you any more while you stammer that you'll talk more quickly, that explanation will involve my foot up your ass.


  

Here, Feeshy Feeshy!

Imagine my surprise when Matt showed up for the sole purpose of delivering a Sushi Kit, and it turned out to be, of all things, an Ultimate Sushi Kit. Everything but the fish and the Very Sharp Knife. I am grateful and thank him profusely for the gift from the Southern Tsunami.