the merits of proofing are...

Someone kindly pointed out to me that on my exposition on typos, there was an actual typo in that small paragraph. I just can't seem to get away from them. Typos, I mean, not the people pointing out the typos.

And so it was that I had another exciting day at school, and then went on a grand adventure shopping for groceries at Wal-Mart. Being tired, and in a hurry, I made a daring attempt to go through the express checkout lane with 26 items, as opposed to the max. of 20, and although I received a few glares, I otherwise escaped unscathed.

I felt like the Bargain Basement Queen; I found some t.v. dinners for 89 cents each, and stocked up on those and ramen noodles. I was pretty excited to see cheap meals for under a buck, so I loaded my cart like the sale was ending in ten minutes. And so, I have two weeks of meals for under $20. I feel good about that. So what if I looked like a mad pre-Y2K shopper (You know the ones I'm talking about; the ones that stocked up on so much food and toilet paper that they could supply the Army for a whole year).

But then again, maybe not; I bought frozen dinners, and you can't stock up on those if you dont' have electricity. While winters in wisconsin would no doubt keep the food well frozen, there would be no way to cook it (without the danger of setting the paper tray that held the food, and perhaps the house, on fire). Thus the merits of canned foods, which most people can appreciate, unless you happen to be meCANically challenged.

But I ran into this guy the other day, who hasn't worked since June, but manages to drive a car around that is worth more than I am. How's he's making the payments on it, I don't know. And, I dont' want to know, since he's been freeloading off of friends since June as well. But I suppose that's what you do when you have to leave the county as opposed to paying child support for the three kids you already have, and one that's on the way. Well, he thought he would "earn his keep" at the latest house he's staying at, and went down to the food pantry.

He came back with 3 (big) boxes of food, with not a good word to say about any of it. First he complained that most of it was canned food and he didn't like canned food. Then he whined because he had alot of apples, and what was he supposed to do with fresh apples? And they gave him too much bread; he didn't even LIKE bread. Ahhhh, perhaps you should have gone to the gourmet food pantry, or maybe the five-star soup kitchen. Get a life, loser!

Ahhhhh... that feels better. I've been wanting to say that all week. :P

And now, with that off my chest, I shall go to bed.