Exceedingly Erratic Bad News

I thought bad news comes in threes, but here's a fourth -- which means we're going for six.

First, my cat dies and the Weedwacker works and the air is let out of my chef's hat.

Now, all of my friends have their copies of the "Popeye the Sailor: 1933-38, Volume One" DVDs, while I continue to wait in anguish for delivery.

I'm filling the time eating orchids with Eugene the Jeep and looking for Alice the Goon depilatory tips.