Everytime the preview for 'The Dukes of Hazzard' comes on, I begin to bash my head against the wall several times . . . being concust is the only way I can even remotely stand it.
Last night I had a dream I was trapped in a car with Perch Boy. The car was in the middle of a park and there was a quite obviously an axe-welding maniac right outside of the car. If I left the car it meant certain death, if I stayed in the car it meant hanging out with Perch Boy and his slimy ways. He would waggle his eyebrows and I would frantically weigh my odds against the axe and the general badness of the muthafucker outside the car door. When avoiding the advances of my fishlike car cohort, I could hear the quiet hum of an eager axe blade. I took my chances with the Perch and woke up in a cold sweat of grossiness.
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