I received an email from London Wiz, Julia today.  She tells me that my "career defining" name plate has been turned over to the British Postal Service and should be here soon.  That should be the last thing I want or need from London except maybe revenge. 

I've stopped finding British change in my pocket, that's a good sign that I am finally here to stay.  I think I left an English coin as a tip yesterday at Starbucks .  I thought the coin felt funny when I tossed it into the kitty. Actually with the lousy exchange rate the dollar is getting these days it is actually worth double what I thought I was giving.  I guess technically I "over stiffed" them. 

Julia commented on what I wrote in my blog yesterday.  In a typically understated British tone  she said simply, "If only ranting was an Olympic sport ......."  Perhaps I was a little hard on L.B.  I stand firm on the dickless comment, however.  

Which brings me to the possibility that my dickless (actually I remembered one of them is named Peter-- does he count as a Dick? ) ex-producers are reading this blog as well.  I am glad I don't know for sure. My rage is trolling barely below the surface and I think I see the periscope breaking the surface to check torpedo range.  My inner Buddha is telling me I should take the enlightened path and resist not.  My inner Hindi is telling me that it will be solved in another life time.  My inner Christ is telling me to forgive them for they know not what they do.  But my inner Allah is screaming Jihad! and it is really hard to hear those others over all his yelling.  

As you were,

Jay