2 nights ago

Salvador Dali met up with Tim Burton and Clive Barker to create odd, sickening horrors in my sub-level sleep ... I could see things, terrible, disjointed, Dali-like arrangements, but they moved ... or I knew that they were alive

graphic, scary, I don't know why I thought of any of it
Last night, to my knowledge, I though of nothing like those things.

Spanish doubloons

I still get the air of, "it's a Rolex"+ from some putz's who drop a fifty or a hundred for a bill. Boy! That sure doesn't impress me. What would impress me is if you like, uh ... spoke English and not grunted (not only the Spanish speakers grunt rather than talk), and someone please just jump on the tab. Hey, you group of ten -- did you ask for separate checks? I got food and drink ... next. I got a hundred --- chin rises uncontrollably. Dude ... if you had a credit card and used it and signed with a nice tip on the check -- then, that would be worth something.

A filthy fifty dollar bill, likely a habitat for loads of viruses, bacteria and specimen samples, doesn't impress me. How many drug dealers, users, prostitutes, pimps have "used" this bill?

I still wonder how many places pay in cash rather than, oh ... I don't know ... check or electronic deposit? That's just nuts! I see more Spanish-speakers use large bills. I wonder why that is, but I could only speculate or guess.

+ Die Hard

Fair shake

Apart from my, aforementioned dissatisfactions, I think that the 'gers have given me a fair shake. I think it is due them as well. So, turn the other cheek, new leaf, whatever -- I'll dust myself off and try again and worry about criticizing me instead.