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I took my brother to the mall last night so that he could pick up a book. Right in front of the register was a pile of Dr. Phil's new book. I wondered, out loud of course, why he was allowed to speak about anything. The guy behind the counter gave me a strange look.
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I've had nightmares the last three days or so. One or two different dreams a night, all terrifying. The only one I remember right now is the scene where the 9-foot-tall Great Dane (picture a very large, antlerless moose) killed me. Not too fun.
Also, this week, my alarm clock is my boss.
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I was going to mention that I was feeling unsexual and not particularly concerned about it. Now, I'm just unconcerned.
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Something about neutrinos.
Excuse me.
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Berry
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