Wendy has alerted me to a cashier at a Duane Reade with the longest fingernails ever (see Guestbook). I'll have to go investigate. Maybe I should go buy a pound bag of M&M's and see if her nails pierce it when she puts it in a bag.

My stiches are now hanging by a thread in the back of my mouth. It is so gross and annoying. They just won't fall out, or "dissolve" like the dentist said they would. I feel on the verge of a murderous rampage, not being able to eat anything but fucking soup and BerniOs. My breath is completely toxic.

I'm becoming obsessed with the red wine incident. The more I think about it, the madder I get (is "madder" a word?) We shouldn't have paid for that glass of wine! Sediment should not be in a glass of wine! The manager was an asshole! And the thing is, we are repeat customers there. The hostess always recognizes us and we're always friendly and chatty with the waitstaff. They know us there! We should have got a break. I feel a letter brewing...