Drive-Bys

I've been having some over-the-top oddball dreams or bits and pieces of dreams lately.

For example, I woke up this morning not being able to remember anything about what I was just dreaming... except the song that had been playing over and over again -- some Euro-pop techno trash girl group with the lyrics "He's my underwear." Yep. Made me want to bounce right out of bed and dance. (Where in the hell did that come from???)

The other dream that's got me shaking my head is one I've never had before. I dreamed that I was sleeping in a small, dorm-like room, in a single bed with a wool blanket. It was raining very hard outside. I was sleeping peacefully, only to be awakened by the sensation of damp and cold feet. In my dream I awoke to find a leak in the ceiling over my feet. As I watched, more and more moisture began to bead up on the ceiling. Then it started bulging. The next thing I knew, water was bursting through the bulge, and my ceiling was falling down in big hunks of wet plaster all around me. I ran from the room to find out if anyone else was having the same problem. Then I woke up.

Ugh.
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In an odd bit of synchronicity, I found this weird post about underwear.
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Speaking of synchronicity, compare and contrast this story with this one.
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When I first saw this story about the 9-year-old kid banned from his baseball league because he was so much better than all the other kids, I had a similar reaction to Eugene Volokh's -- he probably should have been playing in a different (older) league all along. Kids should compete in leagues where the competition is pretty level.
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Scrabble-Lover's Giggle of the Day:


more animals
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Clearly, politically I'm not a big fan of John or Elizabeth Edwards. I do, however, have tremendous sympathy for Mrs. Edwards, and have absolutely no use for the people doing this.

The woman is fighting cancer, fighting to keep her family together and fighting to keep her marriage together. Pick on him all you want, but leave her alone, people!
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Did you hear about the scum-buckets who robbed the SIFA African Children’s Choir van during their recent visit to Chicago?

Here's an open letter from the group:

Sure, the two laptops, camera and memory sticks that were in the backpacks were valuable. Between that gear and the GPS device the choir’s chaperones have used for the last six months to drive the kids through 22 states, it would cost about $5,000 to replace them. (And a very kind Chicago businessman, having heard what you did, showed up Monday morning and handed the choir a check for $10,000 to do just that.)

But you took something that cannot be replaced. Ever.

On those laptops and memory sticks are photographs of many of the children’s parents. Parents who have died or are going to die very soon, from AIDS. You took the only pictures the children have of their parents.

What price can you put on them?

They’re of no value to you. So give them back, please.

I love my city and I love what these kids are trying to do. This just breaks my heart that they get to see us in this light, and that this city has now stolen precious, precious memories from them.

Give them back, indeed.
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Update: More underwear synchronicity:



That's my favorite Pee Wee Herman skit ever! I'd almost forgotten about it.

(A tip of the cap to the lovely and talented Professor Althouse.)