Katie Schwartz

Today while dishing with my accountant's assistant, I asked, "Can I fax my tax dish over instead of dropping it off?" He said, "Oh, sure, honey, no problem. Who is this?" I said, "Katie Schwartz." He said, "Fabulous! Fax it on over, HARRY." Admittedly, I was perplexed and said, "I'm not Harry, I'm Katie Schwartz." I kid you not, he said, "Yes, I know, Harry." Jaw dropped, so like a dumb ass, I asked, "Is there someone in the office with you who thinks you're dishing with a Harry ?" He said, "No, it's just me." I was so fuckin' irritated, I said, "WELL, I'M NOT HARRY. I'M KATIE." And he said, "Yeah, I know." Is it fucktard Monday?! For the love.... Again, I asked, "Why do you keep calling me Harry?" He said, "I don't know." THAT MADE ME SCREAM. HOW HILAR IS THAT?! Now, I'm wondering, do I have a huskyish, maley voice? I thought I

Read the story, it's short and afterwards read my Howard Cosellian response. If you think it's cunty, fine , fine , fine . "POMONA, Calif. - A thrift store worker in Southern California says she didn't think twice about returning $30,000 she found in donated clothing . Barbarita Nunez was sorting clothes on Tuesday at the Veterans Thrift Store when she found a small box. Inside was an envelope of cash. Nunez said at first she thought the money was fake. But just in case, she gave it to her supervisor. The money turned out to belong to a woman who had recently died. It was returned to her family, who gave Nunez a cash reward. Nunez said she will send some of the reward to Mexico so her mother can have an eye operation and will use the rest to buy a digital camera." If I found 30K in that situation, I admit it, I'd keep it, I would. I really would. What cracks me up is the cliche ending of the yarn. I'm just sayin' .

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I was stuck in traffic behind this debacle. Oh, what debacle you ask? The fucking fake, stuffed, identical dogs trapped in the windows, gasping for fake air with their fake tongues hanging out of their fake mouths dripping fake drool. Fuck. Fuck. Mother Fuck .