Tossed and turned and got very little sleep last night. Apocalyptic dreams: giant cyclones whirling into Seattle, straight out of the previews for The Day After Tomorrow, followed by nuclear strikes. At one point I found shelter with other refugees in some kind of concrete tunnel that was piled with something, not sure what. Toilet seats, maybe.
LJ seems very quiet lately. I resist the impulse to quote my spam headers to the world or describe to you what's on my desk.
Last night in my head I cast Ving Rhames as an ex-NFL football player and bundled Spike off into his porny care.