About me: I'm a white male who resides in Alabama. I do not fly the Confederate flag from the back of my pickup truck. Which could be because I don't have a pickup truck. Let's just say that if I did, my hypothetical pickup truck still wouldn't fly the Confederate flag. If it flew any flag, it'd be the good old Stars & Stripes. Or Black Flag. What an awesome pesticide. I say that, although I don't believe I've ever used Black Flag. My household is a RAID household. I guess years of great commercials with those animated bugs exploding after shouting "RAID??!!!" must have done their job as planned by the ad execs. Funny thing is, every time I think of the RAID bugs, I also think of the Scrubbing Bubbles. Remember them? Their leader sounded just like Tigger. Perhaps because Paul Winchell supplied the voices of both. Paul Winchell was a ventriloquist. Ventriloquist dummies give me the creeps. Not because I think they're going to come alive and kill me (I never saw "Magic"), I just think their little faces are weird looking. And Christian ventriloquist dummies are even more weird. I mean....how can an inanimate object crafted from wood and plastic sincerely ever hope to see the kingdom of Heaven? But yet, there they are, doing their thing on the Christian Broadcasting Network or Trinity Broadcasting Network quite regularly. Not that I watch those stations. Okay, I do every now and then. That lady with the really big wigs just astounds me. I'm quite positive that Salman Rushdie is hiding out in that hair. And what more ironic place could the man wanted by irate Muslims be hiding than in the hair of a Christian? Hair of a Christian...now THERE'S a good band name.

Hmmm...now wait a minute. Seems I was supposed to be talking about me, but somewhere along the way, my thoughts wandered. They do that every now and then. I once found them in the kitchen of a Denny's a couple of miles from my house. So, naturally, I gathered my thoughts and sat down and enjoyed a patty melt. I didn't mean to throw water on her, but nevertheless, poor Patty did indeed turn into a puddle on the floor, which was eventually mopped up by some guy named Stu who worked second shift. Stu was a dreamer. He wanted to be on "Fame". I sorta felt sorry for him, because this was, like, 1996, and "Fame" hadn't been on the air for several years. I'm also quite sure he didn't have the foresight to know that it would be back on the air in 2003 in a new and equally bothersome format. I don't know what happened to him, but if he's not on "Fame", perhaps he is now warming up for the inevitable resurrection of "Here's Boomer".

Dang it. I did it again. Me, me, me. I'm supposed to be telling you about me. I'm 6'1" tall, and have a freakish abundance of freckles and moles covering my body (WELL BLOW ME DOWN--SOMEBODY ACTUALLY READS THESE THINGS! ). I have never tried to play 'connect the dots' with them, however, I do know that I have a copy of the Big Dipper on my left forearm. You can only see it if the moon's not too bright, however. Don't read too much into that last statement. Hey, I'm staying on course. I'm still talking about me. Not bad. Maybe we'll get somewhere now. Oh, wait, never mind. Sci Fi network's showing "Buck Rogers". Gotta run!

I really could use a Dr. Pepper right about now.