Remember how I said that I’d rather have burritos than flowers?  I took a photo of my amazing breakfast burrito with my phone, but T-Mobile blows ass and can’t possibly ever allow me access to my album.  But hey, Mud House and your breakfast burritos:

made by someone awesome who is unknown but definitely not me

I wish the above would be enough for all the sad bastards I saw at the grocery store this evening.  I understand that most of them probably work early and 5pm is the only time they could buy flowers, but jesus, that was one depressed looking line of dudes.  I’d like to think that their collective sadness is the reason my phone mysteriously locked in a call/no call dead zone while I was there, though that ignores all the other times my phone has gone haywire at that particular store.

Obviously – and I say this with full admission re: my recent one-X-Files-episode-a-day habit – there is an alien spaceship buried deep beneath the Schnucks on Loughborough, specifically near the transition area of booze-meat-dairy (aka my favorite area).