Why does it seem bad things always happen in three's?  Friday I was driving home and suddenly heard a giant CLUNK.  Luckily there is a repair shop on my route and I limped the Durango to it.   The mechanic was nice enough to put the thing on the hoist and take a look.  Judging by the "Oh wow" that came out of his mouth, I knew it wasn't going to be good.  He walked over and said that my front brakes had seized up and chewed through the rotars.  Nice.  I hadn't even heard the damn things squeek to let me know they needed replacing.  500 dollars later, the damn Dodge is back on the road.  I get home and fire up the computer to do paperwork for my job.  I wait and wait and wait.  Long story short, my monitor crapped out.  There goes another 300 bucks. 

And to top off the evening...

I was playing with my beloved dog.  (no it's not THAT bad a story)  We where throwing her sqeeky around and having a good doggy time.  Such a good time, she forgot to let me know she needed to go outside.  When she jumped off the bed to chase the toy, all the piddle let loose.  *sigh* 

So it really was a piss poor day.