The joys of dealing with shaved monkeys

I just experienced the joy that is the post office. It’s a different dimension which never fails to disappoint. You can’t make this up – but they were out of letters and stamps. Perhaps it was just a red-painted building for homeless people who like to sit behind glass and stare at us like broiled vegetables. I had to mail my license and frankly I might as well have thrown it out the window and hoped the wind would blow it home.

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