Hold Me Closer, Tiny Banker

I don't claim to be shrewd or business-savvy or "profitable." But sometimes people frigging pay you money for the stuff you do, like take pretty pictures of their families or whatever. And sometimes even when you're brave enough to charge American dollars, people's mother effing checks bounce. Who pays...you know, eventually?

1. The babies? Nope. They're fine. Don't worry about the babies.
2. The government? Nope...well, maybe. I'm not clear on the way it all breaks down. Probably not, though.
3. ME? Hell yes. I am going to be charged for your mistake. $7. So I go from making money, to owing money. This math is bad and wrong.
   

Feeling a bit on the grumpy side of ok, due to the end of another glorious weekend. There was karaoke, bike rides, overbeering, sleeping late, meeting puppies, buying a big-girl bike bag (Not the orange one. That shit is ugly).

Esoteric Moment: Did a lovely set as "Sibling Rivalry" with a pair of friends last eve at Improv-A-Go-Go (too many hyphens?). If you don't go to this weekly $1 event, you are missing out. So much laughing for $1. I could have bought entry for 7 persons, but now I have to give that to the bank, who isn't even going to use it for recreational comedy viewing! Ass!