Good lord...ever since we came back from Biloxi, Sonya has been able to come home, plop down in front of the computer and diddle around with e-mail all night. I finally had to run her off tonight just so I could write this. A second Macintosh is obviously in order for the Williams family.

So I had a Disturbing Dream the other morning.

[Addendum: Sonya has had to be at work early all week, which has allowed me to be the second one to get up in the morning. A lovely and wonderful thing.]

So in this dream my friend Christy (airplane mechaic and practicing witch - cool combination, huh?) had this other friend who had shot himself in the chest. Christy asked Sonya and I to dispose of the body. Why? I don't know, it was a dream.

Sonya and I went to this guy's apartment where his body was. Sonya suggested we cut him in half to make him easier to move. Then she whipped out a hacksaw and cut the guy in half, right at the waist. For some reason, we then took the two halves of this guy and stuffed them in a dressing room in the dress shop on the first floor of this building where the guy lived. Why? Again, no idea.

The next day (same dream, though) we went back to the dress shop and Sonya distracted the women who worked there while I carried out the body. Then we were driving around, trying to find a place to dispose of the body.

"You know," I said to Sonya, "we're driving around town, trying to find a place to bury a body. If the cops stop us this is going to look bad."

"And where are we going to bury this guy, anyway?" I continued, "you can't just find a spot out in the country. All those spots belong to some farmer. And the cops find bodies out in the woods all the time!"

And there we were, driving around, an especially messy body in the back seat of Sonya's Altima, trying to find a place to dispose of a this body.

Strange dream, huh?

Yesterday afternoon we went to the VA hospital to see Sonya's grandfather (Papaw, in the vernacular). He had a piece of lung removed today, and his prognosis is excellent.

We were sitting in his room, and Sonya was talking to her sister and brother in-law. Papaw leaned over towards me.

"How do you keep up with her?" he asked, pointing at Sonya.

"I don't even try anymore," I grinned.

"You mean you don't keep her in line?" he was grinning too, now.

"I wouldn't even know how to try," I admitted.

"You take a board to her!" he told me with great authority.

"She might like that," I said.

He laughed like hell at that.

Sonya and I enjoyed witty and intelligent banter this afternoon at lunch.

We were lunching at home, as usual, and I put Big Star, Better Than Ezra and REM in the CD changer.

"I thought power pop would be appropriate for today," I told the wife.

She smiled at me and said, "it's all power pop, baby."

I thought that was an intensely cool line.

A few minutes after that I looked at Sonya.

"Hey, baby, let me ask you something."

She raised an eyebrow at this.

"Do you think I might get laid tonight?"

"Well, I don't really plan that kind of thing. Why do you ask?"

"'Cause I want to eat some hummus with my lunch and it's very garlicky."

She shook her head sadly. "You go ahead and enjoy your hummus."

Have I mentioned how incredibly excited I am about the trip to London? I'm incredibly excited. London, baby! The tickets came via FedEx the other day, so we have to go. I was checking Aerlingus (which sounds like something you'd do in a plane, not an airline, right?) for fares to Dublin, and I was trying to find out how much it costs to take the train to Paris, but apparently the Europeans don't like to put prices on their websites.

Not European hotels, though. Or English hotels, anyway. They got their prices spread out all over the place. It's the law there, apparently. Bless their little bad-toothed hearts.

Anyway...London, baby!

This is a goofy-ass picture, huh? A coworker took it the other day. The item floating in the foreground is my little Saints football. Another coworker commented that I was getting the Michael Jordan tongue action. I was rather distressed when I saw it. I thought I looked rather Madame-esque - referring, of course, to the Madame of Waylon Flowers and Madame.

When I made that comment earlier, Jen asked me, "did you just say Waylon Jennings and Madame?"

I didn't, but that would have made a hell of a variety show, wouldn't it?

"I'm Waylon Jennings, and I got my fist up this old bitch's ass."

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