I agree with Corey. Froggin' is my new favorite expletive.

And what happens when some multiple-personalitied individual flips out at you because he can't find a froggin' parking space? Why, toad rage, of course. What else?

I slay me.

Also in today's news, an update on the lizard situation. After deep consideration and frequent wanderings out to my driveway to peer at this brown lump on my roof (which, praise be, hasn't moved an inch), both with my own eyes and other people's eyes, and a review of a photo I took the day we moved in, intending to document the three little U-Hauls rented instead of the one big one we were promised after the horrible moving experience (the U-Haul part is in Part II, but it's all about context) but also containing the house and the roof, and some thought about fun and cute topics like rate of decay and predatory habits of neighborhood cats (which I have seen, ALIVE, on my roof... apparently it's a happening place) ... I have decided that the thing on my roof is a fake plastic lizard. Which does, admittedly, lower the storytelling value of the lizard-on-the-roof, but it also lowers the creep factor of living-in-the-house.

I will not climb onto the roof to verify this decision.

I don't want to be wrong.