Homes are Similar to Lovers and Shoes - You Should Know How Many You Have

Yesterday I visited the Department of Motor Vehicles because my license had been suspended.

Several months back, I'd made an illegal u-turn in Colorado Springs. Naturally, I forgot to pay the ticket. One of their peeps called one of Florida's peeps and the powers that be actually tried to ban me from the road.

This happened once before a few years ago. Back then I had a friend, we'll call him Mr. Big Shot. I told him nonchalantly in a Bennigan's parking lot that I was driving illegally. He made a call and fixed that sh*t before noon the next day. Unfortunately, Mr. Big Shot has lost that lovin' feelin'. So I was on my own for this one.

I got it all fixed yesterday. In addition to restoring my status as a legal driver, with pretty blue eyes, I changed my picture (the worst - now so lovely) and my address (dad's thrilled). They also verified my organ donor status (of course) and wanted to know if I'd like to register to vote.

Back in the 90s, I worked on the Motor Voter Bill to raise support and awareness here in Tampa. Or was it Boston? So proud. Of course, I registered to vote.

But when they asked about my party affiliation, I almost said, "Independent." Closer than I've ever been to leaving my fellow jackasses. I get closer every day.

Then I hear John McCain tell people that "rich" is making over $5 million a year and, oh my, he can't quite remember all the places he calls home.

I can't remember how many CDs or vibrators I own, but GOOD LORD you should be able to recall where you live.



Nice ad, Obama People. But I still only like you as a friend.