(no subject)

Dear Diary,

My girlfriend is chortling like a loon at a 'Three Stooges' cartoon.

Signed,
Befuddled but Lucky


P.S. How cool was that SNL sketch of the Condoleeza Rice hearing? LOVE them.

BARBARA BOXER: I'm holding up a big number zero, see? Which represents the weapons of mass destruction you found? And here, on this chart, I have this tiny little yellow line representing 'Truth', and this huge blue line representing 'Things You've Said Here Today'.

RICE: I'm sorry, I haven't been listening. I've been trying to choose which of these business cards looks best.

(no subject)

Two nights ago I dreamt about aliens. Benevolent-seeming ones, who looked a lot like Slimer from Ghostbusters. They'd landed a few years before the start of the dream and set up little biodomes here and there; in return for their superscience, their only request was that, over time, every human visit a biodome and have a quick scan of our genetic pattern done. In the dream it was my turn, and I was just starting to look around the dome (which was a pretty park on the inside). I'd just been offered pudding in a strange container and thought to myself "How clever; with this packaging it's perfect for weightless snacking. But hold on...why would I need a snack I can eat in zero-gravity?" when the alarm went off.

Last night I dreamt that it was the first week of school...and zombies were rising up everywhere. So I had to get registered, get textbooks, get guns and ammunition, and find an apartment. In that order. The textbooks and apartment were much more stressful than the zombies, for some reason.