Yeah, It's A Bad Omen...

I'm waiting for my bus this evening, when a little dirty birdy gifted me with a wee present on my shoulder. Fortunately, this wasn't much of a bird, so the payload was mercifully small.

As I'm dragging out the Wet-Wipes from my carryall, I wonder if this has any cosmic significance. I'm not into the black-cat-crossing-your-path, step-on-a-crack nonsense, but I gotta wonder if any culture attaches any significance to getting shat upon by a bird.

Well, bad things happen. I'm here to tell you.

First, my usual quiet path through the back streets heading home from the commuter lot was just jam-packed. Every route I took was full of car accidents and multiple cases of terminal ignorami operating motor vehicles.

I stopped in at the local video shack to rent a few flix for the weekend. Not much available, we're in that dead season when all the schlock from last fall gets released.

Next, over to KFC to pick up a meal. It's Dad's birthday, and he likes to gnaw upon the Colonel's poultry, so I thought I'd treat him since Mom was off for the weekend. In and out of both places in a jiffy!

And then the bad juju caught up with me...

The video store had neglected to remove the security tabs from one of the movies. The movie still under lockup was one of those stupid T&A comedies that Dad loves to watch, hence my inclusion of it in the evening's picks. So, no movie with Dad.

Then, I notice that KFC shorted the order significantly. I shoulda remembered... "They F$CK YOU at the Drive-Thru!"
So, dinner was not ruined, but a pall was cast over the evening.

Next up, Dad insisting on discussing how statistically likely it is for him to die very soon while we eat our chicken and biscuits. There's a cheery dinner chat!

Sigh. I'd just go to bed, but with the way things are going, Horrible Poisonous Toads lurk under my pillow, ready to slather me with their noxious secretions.

Time for scotch. Lots of scotch.