I'm going to need a bigger handbasket

This past weekend, I lectured my mother, shook down my church choir director, and flipped off a homeless guy in a wheelchair. What's happening to me?

Granted, my mother needed lecturing, my church choir director hadn't paid me for a gig in a month, and the homeless guy was in the street knocking on my car window in New York and freaked me out. But when you put these things together, it certainly doesn't look good. I always knew I would be going to hell--I even have my own handbasket--but even for me, this was bad.

Boy, I sure hope I'm not turning into a Republican.