No bizarre epic dreams last night, but a really unusual one nonetheless. I don't remember the thread of the dream at all, just a single scene in which I am probing the carpet of the back seat of my Explorer and poke through it to uncover a skull. I've heard of skeletons in the closet, but in the back seat? Hmmm . . . there is something chilling appropriate about that. Note to self: do not run for political office.
I don't watch much television these days. The only shows I really enjoy much are the "talky" ones that don't rely exclusively on the visuals to provide some excitement.
The weekend has been an exercise in futility. Saturday I found myself pretty much confined to the hotel by a brutal case of diarrhea. I haven't suffered much for a few weeks. I haven't missed it.
I'm an I.T. Professional and I'm OK
I work all night and I snack all day.
I kill the trees quite casually
with printer and with fax
for fun I've got baloney
stuffed deep into my slacks.
I nosh all day on twinkies
on almond joy and Mounds
I'm nerdy and I'm balding
and I weigh three hundred pounds
In my back seat's a broad-brimmed hat
entirely made of straw
and if you dig in deeper
my fav'rite cocoanut bra.