I've no title, just boiling blood

Blame it on Rio Cat.

Her comment yesterday got me thinking even more how I hate popcorn chomping, and crowds, in theaters. And since I was going with group, there was certain to be at least one popcorn person plus it's a small theater with few to no escape avenues.

So I bowed out of the movie.

And instead linked up with the dog-walking group. Which is just like it sounds, folks with dogs who go walking at various parks and such. I looooove dogs and while my lifestyle's all wrong for one, I just adore being around them. I get my doggie hit this way.

That coupled with  my own strolling and I put in about 7 miles yesterday. And in weather that couldn't have been better -- crisp clear blue skies, warm sunshine, a tickle of the breeze. It beat sitting in an air-conditioned theater crawling out of my skin from the popcorn sounds. (P.S. This is how my sister and I eat it in public: suck first, chew, swallow.)

*  * *

I awoke to a story in the paper a couple days back of a robbery at the drugstore that I frequent. Just before 2 a.m., a black man jumped over the pharmacy counter, pointed a gun and demanded Oxycontin, aka hillbilly’s heroin, then took off.

One more wrongful way to make money in this fucked economy.

* * *

A few days prior was an article of a theft at the mall. Some folks were collecting donations for the Susan B. Komen cancer cause. A black man walked up to the table, put in his donation, suddenly grabbed the jar and fled into a waiting car.

Like with the pharmacy, both thefts occurred moments before closing so obviously well timed.

I get so damn angry when jars of donations get stolen. Why must people be so bad?

I can see stealing pharmaceuticals. Which is not to say that I could do it or that it is right. No way. I'm saying that because it's less "personal." Donations, on the other hand. ... there are people and animals who need help and that help is enabled by the donations from the wallets and hearts of others.

If you're gonna be a thief, show some goddamn class and go rob a store or a bank.

People. They break my heart over and over and over. By the time my time comes, I'll be a million pieces of heart lying in a pool of water and trying to remember why the hell I chose to reincarnate.

In closing, while I had no personal involvement, I'm so sorry, good folks working on behalf of Susan B. Komen, for your loss.