(1) During my Criminal final today I was forced to abstain from making a solid gold pun, and accordingly I'm going to be cranky and sullen for approximately 35 hours. The pun was "Just as there was no money in the pocket, there was no meth in the madness." No further explanation will be provided.
(2) For some reason every now and then I'll check my bank balance online, and it'll be about $20 short. I'll click the link to the detailed statement, and it will be missing a number of entries since I tend to do a lot of check-card business after bank hours, and it only updates once a day at 7:00 a.m. The following morning, without fail, the $20 is always back. I'm imagining some night clerk at B of A headquarters "borrowing" $20 from my account just in case he needs a little extra cash over the weekend, and then returning it on Monday. I'd like to complain about whatever is going wrong to the bank, but how on earth do I even approach this?
Me: Uh, hi. [Explains problem.]
Customer Service: Well if it always comes back, what are you complaining about?
Me: Well, where's it going? Why is it doing that?
Customer service: ...
Me: It's very disconcerting, that's all!
(3) Apparently if I walk on the grass instead of the sidewalk while traveling between the laundry room and my apartment, Mimi, the friendly cat who lives behind me, won't zig zag in front of me like she usually does. She's a rescued stray who lives outside but apparently she's too dainty to walk on the grass.
(3) What the hell ever happened to Phil Tanofsky, that bastard Jew-fro Texan?