So, I had the worst nightmare last night. I mean, one of those where you wake up sweating and shaking and consider pouring yourself a stiff drink, nightmares. It was awful. Bleh. I don’t even want to share the salient details, it was so icky that I don’t want to give the images strength by planting them in other minds. *Shudder* Suffice it to say, however, that there are some people who aren’t getting within a shotgun’s blast range of my child. It’s really strange though, because I almost never have nightmares…I just don’t. I guess it’s because I’m just not getting nearly enough REM cycles and my subconscious is getting even with me for not letting it get enough rest, I dunno.
On the upside, I have more baby pictures up at SpiderFarmer. If you’re so inclined, go take a look at Baby Tommy, Week 7.
What else is happening in the world? Let’s take a quick look:
For my fellow NASCAR fans, if you’re going to be at the Daytona 500 this year, and you’ll drink that swill that Miller passes off as beer, then you’ll want to root for Rusty Wallace. Miller has promised to give everyone over 21 a free 6 pack if Rusty wins. Of course, in 20 years, Rusty has never won at Daytona…but hey, hope, like that theoretical water in Miller bottles, springs eternal.
Just when you think it can’t get weirder than our current crop of terror mongers, we get out weirded by the politicos down under.
But wait! In a rousing volley of madness, Bush has the following text in his budget proposal: “Where Are the Real Space Aliens?” Take that Austrailia! Of course, if you believe this guy, not only were the moon landings fake, the Moon doesn’t even exist.