I could write therapeutic fuck-you letters to many more agencies and individuals than the IRS, but let's move onto cheerier topics.

Back in November, I noticed a dollar bill in my wallet with a big red stamp on it directing me to WheresGeorge.com, a site that tracks the movement of dollar bills. I entered the bill's serial number and saw that a year earlier, it had been recieved as change from a lunch bill at an inn in New Jersey. About six weeks before that, it was in Hebron, Kentucky. Sure, what the hell -- I registered and said the bill came from the A Street Deli in Boston.

I recently got email saying "my" bill had been found at a Dunkin Donuts in Southington, CT. Endlessly amusing, for no good reason. Go George go!