Miss Phyllis and Miss Mugsy … … beneath all of that … I don’t know about you two, but my bs meter has been pegging way to the right lately. Everything from the lack of common consideration from fellow coworkers to people thinking the local bridge somehow miraculously morphs into a part of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway upon the precise moment the black rubber of their front tires touch it—even though the freaking speed limit has been 45 mph for the past 42 years that I’ve been routed back and forth over the nightmare. Things haven’t always been this bad. Have they? And to top it off, Bush recently making a last-ditch effort to drop his popularity rating to below minus five with what amounts to his declaration of war on women’s health and rights as human beings. People at work, I can almost understand them. We are all stressed. It’s the holidays—bad enough. People have last-minute deadlines. Customers have unrealistic expectations, which they more than willingly pass down to the foot soldiers as they head off for their relaxing Christmas vacation someplace that feels more like Christmas than Florida. And Bush? There’s no accounting for the number of times or countless ways in which ignorance spews from that man’s mouth. It has all been par for the Bush-course, and snowballing quickly downhill, ever since W entered the office. But here we are on the threshold of yet another Christmas and another New Year. As far as I can tell, the years seem less and less new with every calendar that I throw away—empty dog food cans and bags of nasty cat litter all piled on top like cherries on a Sundae. Is this part of getting older, less tolerant, more hateful, or has the planet simply gone stark-raving mad? Check it all out on my new blog site: www.wiremonkeys.wordpress.com