Last night I saw Big Trouble, the movie based on Dave Barry's aforementioned "fiction book". It was very funny, as David said in his review, and despite what some of the lamebrained critics have said the airport security scenes were completely outlandish and not tasteless, especially considering they were filmed long before September 11.

My hair is getting so long that I don't even bother to comb it or put gel in it anymore. I just dry it off and let it flop wherever it wants to. This would be attractive if I were an indie rocker, but I'm not (yet), so I really need to get a haircut soon.

Speaking of being an indie rocker, last night I had two separate dreams about playing the guitar. In both of them I was thrust at the last minute into playing a song in front of a few people, and in both I played the songs right but the guitar made weird noises. What does this mean?

The Red Sox have beaten the Yankees twice in a row. Let's hope they can make it three while I am working on the robot all afternoon.