There's a special place in my heart (a cold, dark, sub-basement place, complete with icicles, stalactites, biting winds, multiple lacerations, contusions, and frostbitten gonads) that is reserved for the meter maids and religion pushers of the world. As far as I'm concerned, there are few things less kind or considerate than systematically waking people up on an otherwise perfectly sleepable Sunday morning because Jebidiah Dickfield thinks you should be in church. After two sleazy god salesmen went door to door, waking the entire neighborhood, I couldn't fall back asleep so I dragged B out of bed to go find the zealots and give them a piece of my mind. Boy, that felt good.
Sorry, B but it's been made clear that god is on my side. Since immediately following my outburst he saw to it that my bPod reappeared!!
Pooh is inside and he's indicating that he'd like to get more sleep.