Why this irks me is Tiffany B. needs to forget what I look like. Which means I can't revisit them any time soon. Combine that with the fruitlessness of my Googling and you have the salient ingredients of a poop sandwich.
That's correct: I'm currently no closer to ascertaining why Kevin B. was in my town than I was two weeks ago. In other words, I'm no closer to finding out what happened to that guy he was choking in the parking lot of my local Wal~Mart. And time could be of the utmost importance to that hapless young man: he could be hanging out in Kevin's basement, waiting for help. Literally. On hooks.
And though my hunch is he works for UPS, Kevin actually might be an employee of Kellogg, Brown and Root (KBR). (This Googling thing can be tricky.) The Kevin B. who worked (or works) for KBR delivered candy to starving children in developing countries... but then he disappears. The UPS Kevin B. also quickly dead ends... well, right after the article where he mentions UPS (formerly known as United Parcel Service).
So I'm in limbo. I've tried broadening my search, only to find like 300,000+ mentions that I'll need to click on if I'm to get to the bottom of this via the internet.
On the tax front, things aren't much rosier. Can't put off the inevitable much longer. So I turn to page two of my tax booklet and there's their mission statement. I would reprint it here, but this is a family site.
Anywho, just got off the blower with Skeeter. Seems he needs help with his John Deere riding lawnmower, so I guess that's it for this week.
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*Not that I'm strange. I mean sometimes, yes, I'll admit: that first look in the mirror in the morning after a "rough" night is shocking, but not often. Also, Dawn took the above photo; I'm not sure, but I think it's one of her friends peeking out the window at the Pope driving by in his Popemobile; it certainly isn't Tiffany B.