The ATM at Ukrops talks to me in an English voice, which makes no sense at all.  I could understand if like, 83% of Ukrops were in England or something, but no, they’re all in Richmond, which means that they purposefully went and got a bunch of pretentious ATMs just to make me feel like an uncultured American.  Unless of course there was just a mixup at the ATM/Killer Robot from the Future factory and some bank over in England has a bunch of ATMs that call their customers “y’all”.

            I bet communists really hate Burger King, being as they are opposed to all members of the capitalist burger aristocracy.

            Speaking of which, why is he called Hamburglar when he doesn’t burgle hams?  Honestly, when you’re an example to children the world over like that, you need to either change your name to Hamburgerburglar or start spending way more time down in Smithfield, where all of Virginia’s finest ham foundries are.  My guess is that his parents named him Hamburglar, but then after he turned Jewish he had to start burgling something kosher, and since Matzoburglar was already taken, he had to sell his soul to the man and join up with McDonalds.

            If you worked as a guard at a cemetery, it would be great if you got one of your friends to put on a zombie mask and an old tux, and then you could run around the place chasing him yelling about how he oughtn’t be up and about until after dark.

            We had a Girl Scout camping trip come out to Henricus the other day, and in order that they might not starve in the wilderness, we got them cookies.  Wal-Mart cookies.  I’m pretty sure that to a Girl Scout, that’s a capital offense.  That’s like inviting Juan Valdez and Hitler over to your house and serving Folger’s and Eggos, instead of Juan Valdez Brand Coffee Beverage and Luftwaffles.

            You know, sometimes I think that Walt Disney was actually some kind of weird pagan goat worshipping antler hat sporting freak or something.  Really, why else would you give all of your cartoon characters cute alliterative names and then name your dog after the Roman Lord of the Underworld?  Maybe I’m just out of the loop here, of course, and there was some story arc I never heard about where Pluto kidnapped Daisy Duck and took her back to his twilit realm of shadow and torment to sit upon an ebon throne of skulls beyond the River Styx.  Also, if you’re going to name a dog after a denizen of Tartarus, wouldn’t it make more sense to call him Cerberus?  Good job Walt Disney, way to tard all over my mythology.

            I had to use a studfinder the other day to hang a TV on a wall at work, and tried using it on myself.  Turns out that I’m a stud after all.  Woot.

            The TV mounting on the wall thingie, by the way, was labeled as “The Ultimate Space Saver!”  I’m sorry, but unless it opens up its own little pocket universe in some tertiary subspace domain full of Velcro or something, then I think the Ultimosity of it remains highly dubious.

            Whenever corporations throw marshmallow peeps and other toxic waste into the ocean, somewhere there’s an underwater Indian crying.  Or maybe its just Aquaman, he’s kind of like an Indian, except for the part where Indians are brave, awesome, and can make buffalo explode with the power of their very minds.

            Everybody always goes on about how hardcore the guys in the Iditarod are, all racing dogsleds across the Arctic and all that.  Pshaw, I say, if they were really Xtreme, they’d race dogsleds across Alabama.

            Did you hear how scientists accidentally created a temperature 20 times hotter than the core of the Sun?  They still don’t know how they did it, which has a lot of people worried.  I think it’s cool though, because now for the first time in human history, I can cook a hot pocket in under three yattoseconds.  Also, if you’re one of those people who hated waiting for their G.I. Joe Shrinkydinks do dinkify in the oven the old fashioned way, relief is at last at hand.