Creepy complaint

I've begun to notice, and be annoyed by, the overuse of the word "creepy", which has become synonymous for "anything I don't like." To me, creepy things are scary and/or dangerous, which does not, for example, apply to that dorky guy who hit on you at the bar. He may be irritating, uncute and pathetic, but he's not creepy unless you have compelling reason to think he's got a jar for your head in his basement. Those St. Patrick cupcakes with the green icing are not creepy either. They're unhealthy and not of nature, yes, but given the crap we consume on a daily basis, they're not scary or especially dangerous. So don't call them creepy. Because that makes me angry.

Speaking of ill-advised food, I made a very simplistic version of beef stroganoff yesterday, substituting ground turkey for beef, rice for pasta, and steak sauce for dill weed. So it wasn't much like stroganoff at all, I suppose, but Dan and I enjoyed it anyway.

I'm fighting a traffic ticket tomorrow, so wish me luck. No points on my license are at issue (whew!), but I really don't want to pay $51 dollars for doing for 10 minutes on one day what South Philly residents do every single night for 8-12 hours. Who ever thought a Philly cop would bother to ticket double parking on a wide residential street well after rush hour, anyway? Gar! If the City of Philadelphia can tolerate the other vehicular crap I see on a daily basis (blocking the box, running red lights, cutting off pedestrians in crosswalks), then it can damned well look the other way while I double-park to help a fellow city resident move. We'll see if the PPA agrees.