" A rare "Groucho Marx" penguin found exhausted on an Australian beach after a 2,000 km (1,240 miles) swim has been saved by Sydney zookeepers but will soon have to earn his keep by snuggling up to two lonely females of his vulnerable species.  The Fiordland Crested Penguin, also known as Groucho Marx penguins because of their distinctive bushy eyebrows, is one of the world's most endangered penguin species and is usually found in the frigid sub-Antarctic waters off southern New Zealand."

Umm, groucho Marx?  Was the penguin toting a cigar, walking quickly in a circle and saying, "One night I shot an elephant in my pajamas.  How he got in my pajamas I'll never know." ?

Cause if he wasn't, that ain't no Groucho Marx.  Okaaaay?

Not only do I have the flu, but I have just discovered a hole in my favorite lightblue fuzzy slippers!  Booh!  And according to the T.V., there is now a broadway musical based on Tarzan.  It's called tarzan.  Eww.  Nothing like a man with fake locks swinging across the stage singing Phil Collins.  Yes, seriously, Phil Collins did the music.  Clearly we have done a survey and the tourists simply won't support "the theatre" if there is the slightest chance that something orginal and NOT based on a cartoon may touch a production.  (Yes, of course, it was not originally a cartoon, but don't count on the tourists holding stuffed monkey dolls to know that)

Allright, it is time to decide whether a peice of toast is still gross.

umm, seriously. what the heck is wrong with people who have penises? no offense readers with penises. :)

this saturday was the saturday before halloween. therefore i was dressed a clown. as i walked down the street at midnight i had taken off my clown nose but i still had my makeup on. halfway down the street with no one else around was when the cabbie stopped. just outright stopped. this is when he started. "hey shorty." "hey." "hey shorty." this incredibly inventive creative cabbie didn't halt there. when i walked, he drove. "hey shorty." at this point i figured he just couldn't possibly have noticed my clown makeup. so i rooted in my bag. not for the small nose, but for the big one. i put on the peach-sized foam nose and thought, "that will stop 'im!" i confidently turned towards him with a raised eyebrow...

nothin!

i walked the rest of the block to "hey shorty." "hey." "hey shorty."

Today I walked out of the gynocologist's office.

My appointment was at 2:00 and at 3:00 I finally walked out. At 2:30 I thought, "why isn't someone apologizing, and telling me how much longer I will be waiting?" At 2:45 I asked, "Any idea how long it will be? I have to be somewhere soon." And no apology. At 3:00 I said, "I'm leaving. I'll find another doctor." And STILL no apology.

The thing about doctors is that they have decided they are so far above the the social element that they do not have submit to the rules of good customer service.

And really, the thing about customer service is that to be good is so simple. But of course to be bad is slightly simpler.

I can't tell you how many times I've returned to a store because the person behind the counter told me to have a nice day. And meant it. I can't tell you how easy it is to be behind the counter and NOT mean it.

The thing is, you may be behind the counter with cramps. You hamster may have just died. But you smile because it's your job. And really it's your ONLY job. The thing that keeps us from putting robots behind the counter is just that. A smile, "thank you" and a "have a nice day." And the rather naive belief that the PERSON behind the counter has some semblance of gratitude, is honestly genuine.

If you are unable to be convincingly kind, then perhaps you should work somewhere we've decided customer service is not important. Like the supermarket. Like the cable company. Like McDonalds. Maybe you should work somewhere where there are no people to bother you. Like the sewer. Like a graveyard. Like Pluto.

Aw. Rest in peace Pluto.