Now the days go by so fast...

Is it really two days before the new year? What happened to 2005 when I wasn't looking?

In the past 12 months, I've turned 25, been diagnosed as bipolar, and published a book. I've traveled to Bloomington, Indianapolis, Jacksonville, Nashville, Destin. And I spent six hours puking in a hotel room somewhere in Kentucky.

I met Matt after eight years, watched him turn 21, nursed his broken wrist (then dealt with wrist problems of my own six months later). And there were three or four old friends who found their way back into my life. Jeremy came home with Sara in tow, and Abby came out of her shell (a little bit).

It doesn't seem like it's time to toast in 2006 ... I mean, I don't think I'm finished with the crazy, scary, fun antics of 2005! But fortunately, I've had the blog around to keep me company — and I've made a lot of friends. It's nice feeling like I've had a place to pour out and log my thoughts. Writing has brought much reflection, amusement, and routine (which I find very comforting). And it's been more helpful than therapy — but then again, therapy sucked big time.

I've still got a day to come up with resolutions, but not until I'm finished reflecting on 2005 and how I can make the most of my tax donations on New Year's Eve.

P.S. Posted the pic because I found it absolutely terrifying. Look into the eyes of Father Time and face your own mortality. Oh, and he wants $20,000 or Baby New Year's gonna get it. You better do it. Father Time doesn't lie.

He got out alive

Well, I had a nice end of the year post all laid out in my mind, but I've got two days to post that. Instead, I thought I'd post a picture of a coworker's Cobra after he rolled it going about 70 miles per hour. He swerved to miss another car and rolled down an embankment, was thrown out of the car, and blacked out. But he's okay. Here are the rest of the pictures.

Why I'm not a waitress

Dear Man at the Restaurant Sunday,

You have singlehandedly reminded me why I will never become a waitress and why all waitron should be tipped based on the number of stupid demands made by the customer.

It was bad enough when your server brought you the tea pitcher for a refill and you told him, "Please pour it so I don't get any more ice in my cup. I want to maximize the amount of liquid in there."

Nerd.

But it was even worse when your server came with a second round of refills five minutes later ... He was extra vigilant in making sure no ice polluted your precious cup when you rudely asked, "Could you give me some ice?" And when he meekly protested that you'd just asked for no ice, you said (as if he should have known this all along), "Of course I need ice! Can't you see it's all melted?"

You, Mr. Man at the Restaurant Sunday, get a big gold star for being lame. And I hope you're involved in an ironic ice-related accident like an avalanche or a melting ice floe or an overactive ice dispenser on your refrigerator door. Meanie.

If only there were a view from my desk...

Today has been hell. I guess I should've expected it, coming off a relatively nice four-day weekend (except for a spat with Paul over him being a boneheaded male). I unintentionally did one of those annoying female things and asked him a question to which there's no right answer. I swear I didn't do it on purpose, but I got angry at his answer all the same.

And now I feel bad about it.

Karma, however, has come around and kicked my ass. I'm mired under legal notices (47 left now) and SQL queries (91 left now). I've got to work ahead because I can't get out of a luncheon with my department tomorrow. I was looking forward to it last week, before I realized I don't have time for these things. I need to work through lunch, as usual.

::sighs:: I'd better put nose to grindstone and finish up. I'd like to leave here by 8:15 p.m. so I can swing by a video game sale at Toys 'r' Us.

It's Christmas Eve? Already?

I can't believe it's Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve. Where did time go when I wasn't paying attention?

I plan to spend most of the afternoon cooking cheddar cheese cookies. They're awesome and spicy and fun to make. See, I put on rubber gloves (I'm really really paranoid about cooking), and then I get to mash all the ingredients — cheese, Rice Krispies, red pepper etc. — together like Play Doh. Then I get to put them in the oven and watch then turn into Tasty Treats of Goodness.

Tonight, Paul and I are going to my grandmother's house, just like I have every Christmas Eve since I was born. The whole family gets together for dinner (featuring Memaw's oyster soup and Aunt Linda's bourbon balls), then we play board games. Most years, the whole family spends the night at her house, then we make raisin stollen for breakfast and open gifts.

Paul and I aren't spending the night this year, but I still look forward to the dinner and games and all the other things that make it a special time.

I wanted to share the photo and Christmas message sent to me by our friend, photographer Fred Asbury. It doesn't snow hard very often in Memphis. He took the photo in 2002. That year, the snowstorm was amazing and unexpected. Paul was working research and development at Wright Medical, so I had a snowball fight with several of his friends in the parking lot of our university dorm. It was a good Christmas.

In fact, every Christmas I've had with Paul — this will be our 9th together — has been wonderful. I hope you guys are near to the people and places that make you happy this time of year. And I hope you find your own peace, whether it be spending time with family or having a snowball fight with friends — or both. :-)

A WINNER IS ME

First book review on Amazon got five stars! ::grins::

Reviewer: donnawolan (Copenhagen, Denmark)

At first, I was a little hesitant to purchase this item as there is a freaky looking women on the cover with a giant watermelon? And yet, I do not regret my purchase.

The stories are great for someone like me-a person with a short attention span. I generally don't even like mysteries but these were actually perfect. While some of the writing is only so-so, others still are incredible. There is a even a high school student by the name of STacy Sluys who has stories in the book!

I know what you are thinking, a high school student that is already published? As odd as it may be, her stories were actually my favorite in the book.

THis short collection is perfect for a mystery lover or just someone who doesn't have enough time. THe stories will draw you in. Don't let the cheap cover influence your decisions, buy this wonderful collection today!

I kind of feel bad for the artist, Mark, who spent an amazing amount of time taking photos, chopping them up, and mashing them together for the cover. And, as far as I was concerned, the art was out of my hands — the publisher hired Mark and I sat back and watched. So while I wasn't crazy about how it looked, I appreciated the amount of time and effort he put into it.

As for Stacy, she is an amazing writer. I think she's going to go far. I chose two of her stories on merit alone, then found out she couldn't even legally sign her own author waiver forms. I'm glad she's getting some recognition.

::grins:: Funny, how proud I am of all my writers and how I stay up to date on their new projects and publications. Most of my writers are quite a few years older than me, but I still feel a bit like a mother doting on their accomplishments.

But I don't keep their artwork on the fridge. Have to draw the line somewhere.

"The Game Smacky" Part Deux (and other stuff)

Click here to play Smacky: The Game.

If you haven't yet figured it out from the screenshot, Smacky's an angry little squirrel. That's all I know so far, as I actually haven't had time to play the game.

So I really need to finish up my Christmas shopping tonight, but I have a million excuses: my sinuses are killing me, I want to hang out with Paul, etc. Okay, so that's only two excuses, but they're two good ones.

I don't know how it got to this. We've become so busy and apathetic that we don't put up a Christmas tree, don't go out, don't really celebrate except for the requisite family time. Perhaps when work lets up a bit (ha. ha ha.), we'll be more jolly.

Speaking of Christmas, I hit up Amazon for Paul's other gift (you know, besides the Nintendo DS), a new blanket for me, two polo shirts, and two copies of SASM. The shirts (which I bought on a lark because they were on sale for $5) are going to ship Dec. 27. They are the only things in stock.

Paul's gift, the blanket, and the books are going to ship Feb. 6. Yes, February. Forget Christmas. Happy Valentine's Day.

Passwords, Pasta and Smacky

In lieu of meaningful content today...

Search terms used to reach KatesInk.com since Dec. 1:

I uploaded the entire list here, but I thought I'd pull out the highlights (in other words, the things that made me giggle the most):

• "what are the injections you have to get rid of wrinkels"
• "quiet things that nobody knows"
• "the game smacky"
• "kate ho" (?!)
• "tennessee and jessica and cheese"
• "kates password" (did you think it was that easy?)
• "is it ethical to sell blood islam"
• "furby satan" and "furby creepy" and "furby freaky stories"
  
• ... and once again, "expired pasta" ... which has made it into my search terms every month since February. Apparently, this is a common problem.

Other people got here looking for jjcoolj, fluffy bear and spacegoat. (All three have furry-type names, but only one yiffs in his free time. Well, maybe two...)

Also, anyone want to guess what "the game smacky" refers to?

Fragtastic (+ info on the new boss)

I need to be like Red. I want to be like Mokey. And yet I know I'm Boober. (Can't disagree with a guy who says, "Fun is dangerous!") Too bad I'll have to wait a couple of years to see the original voice cast in Fraggle Rock: The Movie.

So I met my new boss today. I'd had it all planned out in advance — when she was introduced to me, I was going to say, "I, for one, welcome our alien overlords," just because I thought it'd be a funny thing to say.

But she was so uberfriendly and nice that I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I waited until I'd retreated to my closet, then whispered it to myself. I don't think anyone was standing outside my office door, but if so, I've become one notch more eccentric in the eyes of my coworkers.

I think I'm really going to like her. The editorial department is having lunch next week at The Arcade (which you may remember from such movies as The Firm, Walk the Line, 21 Grams, etc.). Perhaps lunch will be the perfect time to find out things like where she's from, what kind of music she likes, and how many game consoles she owns. Of course, the last one is really important. :-)

Changes are really snowballing in TDN-land. My new boss will be getting a new boss (now there's the real alien overlord, no?), we roll out a total redesign later this week, and a new reporter starts two days after Christmas.

Think, Kate, think. What would Boober do?

He'd worry. A lot. Hmm, what else? He'd find solace in doing the laundry and cooking turnips. He'd wemble about whether to panic. Oh, and he'd knot his tail for good luck. May have a bit of trouble with that last one.

Over already?

What a weekend. ::sighs:: I hate when Sunday rolls around and I realize that I've accomplished a lot, but I haven't really unwound. It's like the antiweekend, and it sucks. I'm going to go take a few Advil and a couple of sleeping pills and hope that Monday doesn't kick my butt too bad.

If you're gonna walk the line ...

After the flurry of comments about De's Johnny Cash figurine, I decided you guys should get a glimpse of the real thing.

Come to Memphis this spring — Carrie will be here in May, but I'm free anytime. I'll give you the nickel tour of Sun Studios, where Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins (etc.) got their start. You can even touch their microphone!

Then we'll go to Graceland, then Isaac Hayes' place, then B.B. King's ... and you all can crash on my extra beds or couches or futon and we'll make s'mores and stay up all night and play Risk and be best friends forever!!!

Like omigod, SLEEEEEPOVER!!!

So when are you going to be here? I have to know so I can pick you up from the airport! And are you going to bring your beads with you?

Sunny side up

From Reuters' Oddly Enough:

DUBLIN (Reuters) - A hazardous slick of broken eggs caused traffic chaos in rural Ireland Thursday after a truck carrying thousands of broody hens lost its load.

"Chickens have begun to lay eggs on the roads and the conditions are quite treacherous at the moment, very slippy," AA Roadwatch said on its traffic advice line, warning up to 7,000 chickens were on the loose.

Police said the vehicle carrying the birds may have hit a ditch, causing its boxes to "cascade off the lorry."

"The lorry has been moved off the road but the cargo is wandering around the roads out there," Sergeant Jim Greene from nearby town of Cavan told Reuters, adding there were no reports of any human casualties.

A team has been scrambled to help catch the birds, Greene said, but little could be done about their egg-laying: "We wouldn't expect anything less from a hen."

So first you had the highway milk incident (see Tuesday's post). Now we've got roadside scrambled eggs. All we need is an overambitious orange grove and a fire in a bread factory and we'll have ourselves a balanced breakfast of gigantic proportion.

P.S. Come up with the wittiest chicken-crossing-the-road joke and win a prize!

Beautiful, and she works for free

Congratulations to Mi, who recently picked up a 2005 modeling world title. Unfortunately, /. has rendered the contest's site one degree above inoperable, but here's a look at a few of last year's finalists.

Go ahead. Take a look. Because if you haven't figured it out yet, they're all digital creations, CG beauties who largely exist from the head up.

The competition? Miss Digital World 2005. You can find renderings of all the contestants here and a look at the 15 finalists here, once the /.-ians have stopped gawking.

If you want to read the original blurb and comments, you can find them at /.'s site. My favorite comment: "Committing virtual murder of Miss Digital World: All you do is hit delete," to which someone else responded, "Unless you're OJ. Then it's slash, slash, backslash, escape." ::grins:: Horrible, horrible geek humor.

The super-sad part is that the digital models — especially the close-ups of last year's finalists — look more realistic than the photos of the real-life children from the kids beauty contest I mentioned in July.

Should've known this was coming someday, that real models would be photochopped into poreless, blemish-free vixens ... while CG models would be rendered so eloquently that they'd almost pass for the real thing.

P.S. Congrats to Mistress of Dead Languages FF, whose school was featured in the New York Times on Nov. 23 and 24. Not linking up the story because instant death would ensue if her schoolchildren — or her mother — found her blog. But congrats anyway. Someday your snotty little prep school will get past the fact that you're Baptist (gasp!) and a Republican (double gasp!) and will give you an office of your very own.

Straight from the udder to your heart

Gross thing I witnessed on the expressway Monday morning:

A dairy tanker spewing milk onto the road. Okay, maybe spewing is a bit harsh of a word. I guess it was more like spraying at a high speed and medium velocity. Yes, I'm quite sure that's it.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but if milk is coming out the back, that means there's air intake into the tank — and not just air, but highway exhaust. I suppose it'll lend a special flavor to the milk.

This is why I'm glad that I avoid dairy as much as possible. Cheese must be sharp so that the lactose has been consumed by bacteria. And milk must be Lactaid or a milk substitute. Otherwise, I'll be the one spewing up my lunch (err, spraying at a high speed and medium velocity?).

Bonus link: Since you've gotten this far, I might as well reward you with a link. E-Subversive.net has soundboards with super-short clips from TV shows (Family Guy, Eastenders, The Simpsons, etc.), plus clips from George W. Bush and Tony Blair. You can play them straight from the site or download them as .mp3 files.

Bonus bonus link: If you haven't yet wishlisted for Christmas, check out MetaWishlist.com. It's more functional and comprehensive than Amazon and Froogle. Find literally anything for sale on the Web, then click the MWL bookmarklet to stick it on your list. Split up your heart's desires by category, add prices and photo URLs, whatever. You can check out mine here.

And it's got PUPPIES on the label, too!

I think I've found a root beer that trumps Abita, and I'm not quite sure that's a good thing. I mean, I love a good root beer, but Paul and I just went on a diet a couple of weeks ago. Until now, we've done a good job of drinking Diet Dr. Pepper when we want something fizzy and caffeinated. So I really don't need a calorie-laden soda calling to me from the World Market bags that are sitting in our kitchen waiting to be unpacked.

Double-whammy: The Coke machine at work is out of Diet Coke. I think this is largely because my closet is right next to it and I've been drinking Diet Cokes in tandem with large styrofoam cups of water from the glug-glug machine.

Oh, right. I was talking about root beer. I literally was running through World Market last week as the cashier rang up my items after I realized I'd forgotten the four-pack of sodas that serve as my "good girl" treats on the weekend. While I was back there, I happened upon a six-pack of Bulldog Root Beer, so I grabbed it too.

I assume it was in this crazy rushed state of mind that I put my wallet into my pocket instead of my purse, which threw me into a panic Friday when I realized I'd lost my wallet. (Paul was nice enough to drive home and tear up the house looking for it before I realized it was probably in my pants.)

And while Paul was at home playing Where's The Wallet?, I was at my desk cracking open a bottle of root beer and falling in love. ::grins:: It's creamy and sweet, most likely because those crazy folks at Bulldog aren't satisfied with high fructose corn syrup. Instead they use a triple threat: cane sugar, honey (which leaves a pronounced taste), AND maltodextrin. Did I mention it's sweet?

Anyway, my impulse purchase was a stroke of good luck — I later found out that the once-scarce Bulldog was rated 3rd of 143 by Luke's Root Beer Reviews and 1st of 311 by Anthony's Root Beer Barrel. And BevNet gave it a coveted five of five stars (certainly a rare occurance).

I guess I can't totally remove Abita from my fridge yet (hey, we have a history), but it's going to have to scooch over a bit to make room for the new guy.

Greetings from Early Christmas Land

You know how much you hated waiting for Christmas morning when you were a kid? Well, Paul and I did. That's why we never wait for Christmas to exchange presents.

He knows what I'm getting him, although it isn't here yet. (Time goes so slowly when you're waiting for something.)

And Paul's given me my gifts: a red Nintendo DS with Animal Crossing: Wild World and Mario Kart (which he is now playing); an Acer 17-inch LCD flat-panel monitor; and a wireless optical mouse.

My desk has become a geek girl's paradise. :-)

But Paul never forgets my feminine side, even when I'm pounding my fists on the desk in a primal rage because my video game character just got smoked by some lame-ass nemesis. No, he still sees me as the lipstick-wielding chick I was when we met, so he also bought me a day spa gift certificate for a little pampering.

I don't know why he takes such good care of me, why he still loves me after all this time. He doesn't even seem to be sick of me yet! O_o The gifts are nice, but it's the man behind them who really matters to me. I don't deserve him ... but I sure do love him. :)

Ho ho ho?

I made a list (and checked it twice?) of people who are getting Christmas gifts this year. I uploaded the list to the Sidekick, not realizing where it was going to go.

So now I have a TO DO list, followed by 31 names like Paul, Jeremy & Sara, and Grandma.

If anyone picks up my phone and sees my list, they're going to think I'm a slut. I feel dirty.

Bonus "model" photo: An arraignment photo of everyone's favorite murder-for-hire cheesehead is now uploaded here. If you didn't catch the original post, click here. Still think she looks like an extra from a boxing movie?

Tasty treats for the masochists

Things I Will Never Drink:

(1.) Beer Water from Stillhouse Springs: Why drink boring fruit-flavored water when you can drink Beer Water? BevNet's review, in part, reads: "Not only is the idea ridiculous, but it tastes like cheap seltzer water that accidentally fermented, and it smells like a roadside pub at 3 AM." Ouch.

And just who composes the target audience for Beer Water? Is this something you just grab on the way out the door for a jog in the park? Do you take it to the office with you to tide you over until 5 p.m.?

(2.) Liquid Cereal from Brain Twist: Mmm ... the lazy man's breakfast food. Here's the idea: Cereal. Milk. Mushy. Can. Consumers have their choice of four flavors: chocolate (think Cocoa Puffs), peanut butter (Reese's Puffs), apple-cinnamon (Apple Jacks), and fruit (Froot Loops).

I was surprised BevNet gave high marks to all the flavors — ranging from 3.5 to 4.5 stars. The editors describe the drinks as having a "slightly thick, cereal-like consistency." Look, I make a point of not letting my cereal get soggy. So a can of somebody else's regurgitated Raisin Bran has me reaching for more solid breakfast foods.

(3.) And last — but certainly not least — is Golden Pickle Juice from Golden Beverages. According to the Web site's audio commercial, the product is perfect for the many people who "love to sneak into the fridge and gulp up that tasty juice from the pickle jar." Yeah, okay. If you're one of those people, how about I buy you a bottle of cheap vinegar? Then you can drink directly from the source without worrying about your nose bumping into a wayward spear.

BevNet says it's "atrocious," adding that "the scent is reminiscent of a biology lab during dissections." But that hasn't stopped the wily folks behind GPJ, who also are marketing it as a sports drink. I guess it's for those folks who aren't satisfied by Beer Water and can't tote a glass jar of Vlasic spears to their next basketball tourney.

... So there you have it — three stocking stuffer options for people who have everything but a sense of taste ... literally.

"I'm GOUDA! I'm not a MUENSTER!"

::sighs:: I never ceased to be amazed by the stupidity of ... stupid people. Especially local ones. Saw this first on the local news, but the Associated Press has since picked it up:

Memphis (AP) - Police in Memphis say a woman mistook a block of white cheese for a cocaine stash and tried to hire a hitman to kill four men and steal it.

Police say Jessica Sandy Booth was mistaken about the hitman, too. He was an undercover policeman.

Booth is 18. She's charged with four counts of attempted murder and four more of soliciting a murder. Authorities say Booth was in the men's house recently and thought a block of queso fresco cheese was cocaine. The cheese is used in cooking.

Police say Booth, an aspiring model, told the hitman she needed $7,900 dollars to pay a modeling agency. The undercover officer was recording Booth's conversation and police say they have her saying any children old enough to testify would have to be killed as well.

People in the home gave police permission to search it. They found only the cheese.

Okay, let's go over the facts here:

1. Here is a picture of cocaine, via the US Department of Justice.
2. Here is a picture of queso fresco, via the Mozzerella Company.
3. Here is a picture of Jessica Booth, via MPD.
   

Please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks this whole situation could have been avoided if (a.) she'd been able to tell the difference between nose candy and a wheel of cheese, or (b.) she'd looked in a mirror.

Kate 1, Death 0.

So, this morning, I was run off the road.

I'm okay (otherwise I wouldn't be posting this right now). I've even moved from the initial shock phase — calling Paul crying and screaming so hard that he couldn't understand what I was saying — into the more rational pissed-off phase.

I had just taken an on-ramp onto the interstate in a construction area. Two lanes go west in this area, and I was in the right lane. A semi came barrelling up next to me and, when his cab was about even with my Vue, started getting over into my lane. Quickly.

No warning. No blinker.

I slammed on my brakes — as did the person behind me, saving me from being rear-ended — and the semi just kept merging into my lane.

My choices were to be crushed on the driver's side by his trailer or drive into a retaining wall. I drove into the wall. I didn't even have time to honk my horn.

I know the guy would have seen me if he'd been paying attention because he drove up next to me from behind. If that weren't enough, I was able to see his mirrors, which means he should've been able to see me had he looked.

The car is mostly okay. I tore up the sidewall on the front right tire, and there are some scratches on the front right quarter panel. And I'm still very shaken up, mostly because I felt completely out of body during the whole experience. Like I wasn't even in control. I even remember hearing myself scream, "DON'T DIE," but it didn't sound like me. It didn't feel like me.

Save me the lecture, because I'm already kicking myself. I know I should've honked (I didn't have time to find the horn) and gotten his license plate number (I wasn't thinking clearly). I should've pulled over and caught my breath. I should've waved to the person who followed me into work with their flashers on to make sure I got there okay, then drove off when I pulled into my office's parking lot.

I'm just ... I guess I feel lucky to be alive. And I'm crying again.

At least I was able to take some of my frustration out by drawing an angry semi in MS-Paint. :)

I think I remember...

Latest meme blatently stolen from the Blogosphere:

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, (even if we don't speak often) please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me. It can be anything you want — good or bad — BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.

When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you.

I'll start: Do you guys remember that one time when Paul and I drove to Tijuana on that drug run, and when we got there, those guys thought Paul was a male prostitute and tried to pick him up? We had to beat our way back over the border so fast that we never did get that shipment. Man, it took me forever to explain that to the boss...

One bottle opener, five bottles ...

Oh my. I have now consumed 5/6ths of Monstee's beverage-y Christmas gift. I am very naughty indeed, and will most likely receive lumps of coal mined directly from The Cave. On the bright side, I whacked off six inches of hair tonight. Perhaps I can find a way to craft that into a monster-friendly gift.

Maybe I'll fill the five empty bottles with hair. Or maybe I'll shape them into a stylish moustache, in case Big Blue ever needs to go incognito.

You can leave your hat on...

Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved hats. The girl's mother said this was because the girl was bald until she was three years old. How embarrassing.

So the girl grew up and bought lots and lots of hats. She had fishing hats and baseball caps and even a hat with kitty-cat ears! She wore her hats almost all the time, especially in college. Most of her college coworkers never saw her head except for maybe when she woke up from a nap in her office and hadn't had time to put her hat back on yet.

Then, the day before Thanksgiving this year, this girl fell in love with a wintery-type hat that was so cool and colorful that she knew she had to have it. But this hat was speeecial.

It was made by a co-op of women in Ecuador called Over the Rainbow. To create an economically sustainable community, the women hand-knit sweaters, hats, and scarves from fair trade, minimally processed wool and cotton. Then, for a few months each year, the two Americans who started the co-op travel the U.S. selling the women's handiwork.

The girl loved her new hat and lived happily ever after. The end.

P.S. DID YOU KNOW THE STORY WAS ABOUT ME? Oh, you did? Oh. Bummer.
P.P.S. Yes, I really was bald until I was three.

EDIT: P.P.P.S. Nobody commented that I was doing a good Blair Witch impersonation. :-P

Darling Clementine (Juice)

Good: Treating myself to a bottle of Noble Brand Clementine juice at Wal-Mart last night because I love tangerine juice.

Bad: Noticing mold on both sides of the bottle mouth this morning. (See photo.)

Worse: Noticing mold on both sides of the bottle mouth after drinking more than half the bottle. ::shudder::

What's annoying is that the "sell by" date is three weeks from now, so I really shouldn't have to contend with the green fuzzies 12 hours after I bought it.

And now I'm having this psychosomatic reaction — I swear the back of my mouth feels fuzzy, even though I've washed it out twice and gargled with Diet Dr. Pepper at my desk.

I guess this is reason #349 why I shouldn't shop at Wal-Mart. (Reason #348: no BFF music; see amusing related link here.)

Ugh, ugh, ugh.