I hate Klaus, the bald-headed singer with the Bozo hairdo. Still...eieieieiieieeiieee. And, bad boys running wild. And you better get out of their wee.

Well, that's what it sounds like he is singing. It does.

Stupid Germans.

Other than that, I got a new job. Same place, same time, gobs & loads more responsibility, not so much more moolah. Like a silly chicken-headed ninny sucker chump.

It is a "stepping stone" position. I just hope the "stone" is not actually stool.

So, last night, I had a dream that I was Hyacinth Bucket from Keeping Up Appearances, punting on the Thames with her husband. Then, I turned into me and Richard turned into my boss. Apparently, I had perched my Patricia Routledge-sized ass on some rusty railing, (which incidentally, had turned into a Formica counter covered with tiny cockroaches) and he [my boss, in boss form] started laughing and proceeded to clean off my pants, with my ass still in them. Right before I woke up, he said, "you've got to be more careful of where you sit."

Hrm. Better try not to read too much into this.