R.I.P., Don Vito

As usual, Salon's on top of it.
Talk about bizarre dreams. I fell asleep with The West Wing on this morning and dreamed CJ was walking around with nipple clamps on. Don't ask me, I'm as shocked as you are.

I enjoyed my second viewing of Spiderman 2 much more than the last. Except for the part where some jackass had the time and inclination to get out of his/her comfy seat and alert management my blow-partner in crime had just unloaded a $9 pint of rum into our $4 coke. Charly's never been the inconspicuous type. Still, I thought we got over the tattle-tale thing in kindergarten. I'm surprised I didn't get a beating for not wearing my Burqa and being in public with two men I'm not related to.

My mother bought me three pounds of pre-cooked bacon yesterday(?). It's the gift that keeps on giving. And here I thought she didn't love me.

Listening to: The Helio Sequence- Don't Look Away