My bank regularly charges me out the ass for just about every transaction I make. They are quick to cash checks while holding on to yesterday’s deposits. That is, if they deposit my money at all. I get nothing but stone faces and bubbling underlying condescension from the people who work there.

And yet, I feel guilty and apologize every time my paperwork is not completely filled out at the drive-thru. Or if I have to ask for a deposit slip.

Clearly something is wrong with me. Seems with my fastly growing age I need to learn to channel my inner Tawanda. Maybe I should just go completely apeshit (in a totally non-violent way) on that bitchy teller lady with the bejewled fake nails and snail-like disposition. Anyone with orange pumpkins sequined onto square acrylics surely deserves my wrath.

But I’ve been to jail once already, and once–for me, anyway–was plenty enough. I like to poop in private, thankyouverymuch. Maybe that means I’m not hardcore. How about I give you that I’m not hardcore, if you’ll just please not watch me poop?

Oh, and another thing:

I’m officially an evil, shallow bitch because I can’t help but think that Ashlee Simpson getting busted lip synching on SNL was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. It was thrilling. I am obviously a starfucker of the worst kind that I even give a shit, but holy MOSES. That was sheer awesome with a blaming-of-the-band cherry on top. Total classlessness, with a Lucky Charms jig thrown in for good measure. SNL will totally redeem itself to me if they parody this shit storm next week.