Off to the Cracker Convention.

Episode 5:

I must leave my beloved Hamsini.

There is a cracker convention in Chicago. It is the same week as the Democratic Convention in Denver. Coincidence? I think not.

The real cracker convention starts next week in St Paul, if you catch my drift. I wonder if McCaine will select Darth Lieberman as his Veep?

It is not just crackers. It is all manners of snacks, cookies and confections salty and sweet. We have a booth with lasers. And bikini-clad models who pass out sample whole-grain crackers with various spreads. I picked the models last month from a catalogue.

Hamsini must go back to work, too. Rebuilding the urethras of soldiers at the VA. I don't take pissing upright lightly. I am grateful for my plumbing. Just wish the Sith didn't occupy the White House.

Charlie’s wallet travels with me.

On Tuesday, I spent a dollar ($#2) at Starbucks tasting their new Vivanno. Watch out Jamba Juice. Howard Schultz aims to take you out.

On Wednesday morning, I bought ($#3) an egg sandwich at SeaTac. Thank you, Charlie.