I'll tell you what pisses me off. The front doorbell rings. I open it and get shouldered aside by 6 or 7 enormous gorillas who burst into the place with tommy guns and sawed-off shotguns at the ready. One of them puts his finger to his lips to indicate that I should remain silent, then draws the same finger rapidly across his throat to indicate what will happen if I don't. They fan out commando style down the hall, into the kitchen, down the stairs to the basement, up the stairs to the bedrooms, moving softly for all their bulk, then throwing open the various doors and bursting in, guns at the ready. One of them gets spooked by the sparring dummy in the martial arts room and fires off a full clip of .45 cal ammo into it...

Shit! That Plastic Rambo dummy cost me a couple hundred bucks, and now it's been wrecked.

The other gorillas come running. The first one looks embarrassed and spreads his hands as if to say, "Sorry! My bad."

The boss gorilla finally comes to me. "Awright. Where the hell is he?"

"He's not here," I say. "He's in Chicago. Where did you think? He hardly ever comes up here in the winter."

They leave in disgust, uttering much cursing about the cost of coming up here, the bad weather, the hostile Canadian border officials, and what they are going to do to "Chachi" when they find him, for sending them on a wild goose chase to the frozen North.

THAT's the sort of thing that really pisses me off!