Well, it's finally happened. Nabisco's gone plum crazy. Take a trip to the grocery store, and bask in the holy glow of 62,000 new varieties of Oreo cookies, ranging from "Mint & Creme" to "Football," yes, "Football." It's a mad, mad world. Mad, mad worlds have many, many Oreos.

I had to make copies of some of my stuff from the Delaware paper at Staples today, and Jesus Christ, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Now, we've got a way more local pharmacy with a five-cent copy machine, but I headed there in the hopes that they could give me some better quality copies. Not so -- all they had was the same kind of shitty, regular copiers. After waiting on a line that was longer than the line to get into Phantom Menace on opening night, I was surprised to find that three of the five copy machines flat out didn't work. Thing was, they seemed to stop working the second I approached them. Everyone insisted that they "just worked fine." Now here was my dilemma...

You know the story with the print column I do -- it's basically the same kinda stuff you see on X-E. So I'm sitting there trying to hide this pile of "C-3P0'S CEREAL" and "THE TRANSFORMERS POWER CYCLE" articles from the prying public eye, because I definitely didn't need that social anti-feather on my cap in addition to stubble and a black shirt that was currently white with cat hair. But...I required assistance if I was to complete my task of making copies. One of the workers there suggested that she give it a shot. I hesitated. I couldn't bring myself to let her see that I was photocopying articles about "THE TRANSFORMERS POWER CYCLE" and "C-3P0's CEREAL." With the way I was acting, the poor woman had to suspect that I was either trying to replicate a bomb formula or pictures of old lady puddy. Finally, I grabbed the one article that didn't seem completely geeky -- about Crystal Pepsi -- and halfheartedly handed it over. I thought the horror was done with, but no, no no no, not yet.

"Shirley, look at this! Remember this?! It's Crystal Pepsi! Remember that? The soda that was clear?! Oh my oh my I haven't seen this in years!"

Within moments, the 240 people shopping at Staples stopped dead in their tracks and stared towards the copy section -- or more specifically, me. Now come on, I'm a webmaster -- by natural law, I'm also an agoraphobic. Under the intensity of the stares and the GOD DAMNED WOMAN'S INCESSANT CRIES ABOUT CRYSTAL PEPSI, I started feeling shingles growing while my heart went into a strange spasm that caused me to rock, ever so slightly, to and fro, like a complete retard in a cat-hair-covered T-shirt. All of this couldn't have lasted more than a minute, but it felt like ten years. Ten years of Staples Hell and Crystal Pepsi torment.

Fortunately, she didn't put two and two together by realizing that I wrote them, which assumedly would've opened Pandora's Box like never before. I finally got my copies, and after paying the two buck tab, headed back to my car with my tail between my legs. BUT...

I left my keys inside. On the checkout counter. In front of everyone. WITH A PLASTIC "BULBASAUR" POKEMON FIGURAL KEYCHAIN ATTACHED.

What can I say? I'm meant to live all alone in a log cabin in Utah. Dunno if Utah has log cabins, but it'll please me to build the first.