My evening? Was spent driving around in the paper's P-T Cruiser with one of the staffers in the Town of Highland parade. And you know, we had an awesome time doing it. Of course, the company only left us with a 1/4 tank of gas and wouldn't give us any candy to toss to the kiddies, but that just made it more fun, because the staffer and I are smartasses, so whenever the little shits would demand, "We want candy!" I would yell back, "No! Gimme some of yours!" To which they'd be like, "No!" and we'd all laugh and wave. We want to do it again next year, only we'll bring more people and good music to blare. It'll be fun, I tell you. It WAS fun, especially if you don't count the moments when I felt like Franz Ferdinand before those wily Serbs got him.
The part that was gross, though? Seeing DtR sitting on the sidelines with his wife and kid.
The wife looked all right -- much less like Petunia Pig, anyway, which is who she looked like when we had Logic in college way back in the day. And the kid was cute. But DtR, never what anyone would call good-looking to begin with, hasn't aged well, with his three strands of hair pushed back like a Bensonhurst Guido and his middle-aged spread peaking out of a tank top and his bus-garage mouth with his nasty greenish-gray teeth. Like Sipowicz, except uglier and with breff is how Laura described him when she ran into him even before he lost more of his hair. So he and I stared each other down, he with that stupid bus-garage smirk that I wanted to smack right off his gob if I could do it without touching him (shudders). As I said to my co-worker, "Sometimes, there's just no accounting for taste."
(And yes, there IS a reason why I call him DtR, but we're just going to leave it at that here. If you're dying to know, we can chat privately.)
Anyway, so seeing him reminded me of scum and how I used the word "scum" a couple different times in my last couple posts -- specifically, that the word "scum," I'd forgotten, actually means "ejaculate" (as in the noun) and is far filthier a term than I usually associate with it. When I think of scum, I think of the green stuff that sits atop ponds or accumulates on the sides of the can when you don't clean it, not baby goo. Is that weird?
Oh, and from "It-was-really-funny-last-night-when-I-was-buzzed-up" department:
Me (at the Hobart Jaycee Fest and really needing to use the Porta-Can): Zook, you didn't pee on the seat, did you?
Zook (without missing a beat as he walked away): Not intentionally.
Oh, whatEVER. 
hey, portajohns are hoverjohns even for guys. I’ll hold it rather than sit. On the other hand, I’ve had to explain to quite a few women that the little thing on the side of the portajohn is neither a purse holder nor an armrest, it’s a urinal. I went to the y-me walk for breast cancer earlier this year, and while waiting for the wife to get out of the portajohn, noticed more than a dozen women exiting with wet purses, or wet left arms.