In the meantime, more shopping tonight. I should be set for a couple weeks now, with the possible exception of milk and eggs. Maybe coffee.
In the unreal world, Michael Jackson is dead. I was surprised to find out he was roughly my age, but considering the life he's lived I'm surprised he didn't punch out sooner, possibly with an assist from an angry parent. Ah, well. He's a shining testament to the uniqueness of our nation: only here can a poor black child grow up to be a rich white woman.