I'm going to die of talking.

Okay!

I took this last week, actually, last Saturday. I've taken more, but they're not particularly interesting.

In other news, I must sadly report that society has devolved to the point that no less than three times in the last half of a year I have witnessed the use of a cellular phone - that is, it was turned on and being used to communicate -

IN A PUBLIC BATHROOM.

Isn't that the second horse of the apocalypse or something? Using a cell phone in a public bathroom? Where other people, perfect strangers, are USING THE BATHROOM?

I had a friend in high school who really enjoyed making people uncomfortable and expeded a lot of effort toward this goal, who would talk on the phone while she used the bathroom. That was bad enough. But these people are broadcasting other people's sounds, sounds that I firmly belive that the producing individuals should have exclusive rights to.

The worst one was a drunk (DRUNK) woman at Don Pablo's. The fact that she was so very drunk made it a little less awful - impaired judgement and all that - but counterbalancing this was the fact that she had it set on the walkie-talkie setting that I've noticed is significantly more popular with working class people. It bleeps and then the other person's voice comes through, loud, and then the user presses a button and bleeps back. (And yes, I'm sure they're cell phones and not actually walkie-talkies. I don't know why broadcasting your conversation within a 20-foot radius is a more attractive option than holding the thing up to your ear.)

X: I'M So DRUNK!!
Y: WHERE ARE YOU?
X: DON PABLOS!
Y: WHO ELSE IS THERE?

et cetera.

The only good part of this whole thing is that I've never enjoyed flushing so much in my life.