the mountain air has prompted me to spew forth still more random bushwah:

molly ringwald would have much more appeal if the media referred to her in thick german accents as "fraulein ringwald." actually, it'd be nice if the media referred to her at all.

I've been having many dreams lately involving bathtubs, for no reason that I can fathom. although I think that dream dictionaries are ridiculous and hokey, I had to look this up. apparently it signifies being preoccupied with a member of the opposite sex--or, for me I suppose, the same sex. I don't feel preoccupied. hmm.

as much as I dis bluefield, there's always been some unidentifiable thing about it that makes me happy. yesterday I realized what it is. the sun shines brighter here. I can't explain it. not only is the sun brighter, colors are more vivid. I'm sure it's all in my imagination, but college avenue seems a helluva lot more visually alive than brassfield road.

although speaking of dissing bluefield, can you believe that there exists not a single establishment in a town of 15,000 people where a person can go to fax a document? well, I felt like going to blacksburg for coffee anyway.

turning to page 653 of the stephen king collection four past midnight brings one into the novella "the sun dog." two references are made to john delevan's car, a ford. on 655, the car is referred to as a chevy. I'm getting sick and tired of inconsistencies in literature. don't even get me started on harry potter. much as I love 'em...holes. full of holes. if the prospect of getting an english degree didn't make me want to drink iodine, I'd become an editor.

on a final note, if gilbert godfrey and fran drescher ever had a child, it would have the most beautiful voice in the world. for some reason, it would just work that way.