In Lieu of Working...

I have to write enough articles this week to fill an entire magazine, so I thought blogging would be a wonderful way to postpone the inevitable.
Last night I was at the grocery store and went into rapture when I saw white meat peaches on display. I bought two fat, sassy ones and I am waiting for the perfect moment to attack them. Maybe I'll make bellinis, who knows?
My bliss was shattered moments later when a guy ahead of me in the express lane (10 items or less) loaded at least 30 items onto the counter. He was a big, knuckle dragging galoot, so I thought better of catching his eye so I could point at the huge express lane sign and ask if he could count to 10. I just hate that sense of entitlement so common to some people.
If I was a store clerk working the express lane, I'd be like Judge Judy.
"Upp, upp, upp, upp, young man, can you count? The sign says 10, you have 30, take it outta here, or you want I should call security? NEXT!"
Another thing that chaps my hide is when a car from a side street stop sign pulls out in front of me, then goes 20 mph less than I am going once they get ahead of me. If they were in such a hurry, why are they going so fucking slow?
I want to buy one of these for my neighborhood errands. That way when some jackass pulls in front of me, I can just scoop him out of my way.