Just a few thoughts to ponder this morning.

First, you don’t need to wait until all your items are rung up at the checkout (there’s a quaint phrase from the olden days, eh? “Rung up,” as if cash registers still had bells) before digging through your purse to find your credit card. You can swipe your card at any time. Honest. It’ll be OK. And if you’re paying with cash, you don’t need to paw through your purse trying to separate the pennies from the linty life savers at the bottom, looking for exact change. The kid behind the register needs the practice, and the rest of us in line have lives we need to get on with. If you happen to have change in your pocket, fine, but please, you don’t get a prize for coming up with exactly seventy-three cents (especially if it consists of more than three pennies). Throw it in a jar at home and consider it your medical savings account (trust me, you’re gonna need it). If you’re writing a check – really? You’re writing a check? – presumably you already know the name of the store and your own name, right? So, um, maybe you could have all that pre-filled, and your little checkbook out and ready (plus the twenty-seven forms of ID you’re gonna need)? And, goddamn it, if it says no payroll checks, then jeezus frickin’ charlie crist, no payroll checks!

By the way, the self-checkout isn’t some sort of mysterious, Rubik’s Cube-like oracle that requires you to read each step (while moving your lips) before proceeding. Seriously, it isn’t that hard. You’ve seen the mouth-breathing 17 year old from down the street who can’t make change w/o a computer do basically the same thing a million times before. If they can do it, so can you. And you know what? If the damn thing won’t swipe, you don’t need it; just leave it there and move on. Don’t make the pimple-faced kid with the retainer and the special key code have to come over. She’s busy trying to get the “#1 in Shrinkage Reduction” button pinned to her crappy red vest.

Look, if the self-checkout is too difficult or intimidating for you, just go to a human. You might have to wait in line a little longer, but guess what? It’ll give you time to get your credit card ready, plus you’ll be saving somebody’s job, and clearing the way for those of us who aren’t idiots to get out of the store in under four hours. Oh, and if you’re buying fifty 2×4’s at Home Depot, guess what? The self-checkout is not for you. By the way, I know it says “Contractor Checkout,” but that doesn’t mean you can’t go to it. They don’t ask for your official “Contractor ID Card.”

Yes, that white stuff falling from the sky is snow. It does that here, and you’ll be seeing it for the next six months or so – except, instead of making the street a little wet, it’ll start sticking. You need to get used to it (just like last year, and the year before that, and…). And all those cop cars and flashing lights? That’s an accident. You really don’t need to slow down and take a look at it. If it was gruesome enough, you can see it on the news, otherwise it really isn’t interesting enough to keep the rest of us from getting home at a decent time.

As for you spambots out there, would you please stop registering as users for this blog. It’s really obvious you’re not real people, and I’m getting tired of deleting your lame-ass attempts. Even if you manage to sneak a link to your pecker pills past my eagle eyes, you’re really not reaching the right audience. Try the freepers, tea baggers, and Rush Limbaugh listeners – they’re the ones that can’t get it up unless they’re tapping their toes in a public mens room someplace.

We don’t need Viagara – we’re Liberals.