I, too, have dreams

Weird ones, mind you, but dreams.

Last night, for example, I dreamed I was at a convention at RMC. I suspect it was RedCon, but am not 100%. There was driving in the Brucato-esque style (i.e. the best path between point A & point B is not a straight line, because straight lines often include 10 foot drops. It was a dream, and we were fine).

And, at one point, one of my cow-orkers (her presence at the convention was never suitably explained) enters the room to tell me Steve Jackson wanted to speak to me.

Me? Evil Stevie wants to have a discussion with the Bitter Guy? Sure, I guess.

So, I go into the room and there he is, surrounded by every SJGames staffer I've ever met (which are admittedly, few), and I suspect princeofcairo and gridlore but details are fuzzy. HaringCane was definitely there.

Apparently, I had just been hired by SJGames. This, once again, was a shock, as I hadn't applied. Then I woke up, due to a cat landing on my genitals.

And that, ladies and germs, was the dream. Think nothing of it that cannot be explained by a demented subconcious, and possibly having an extra Manwich.

And mega props to Brian M for bringing a lovely child into the world. This will not disrupt Pulp Zombies much.

(no subject)

Rush on the Muppet Show.

(no subject)

Peter David is doing an Soulsearchers issue featuring The Enclave of Incidental Individuals. They're a superteam composed of various literary characters such as Inspector LeStrade, Renfield, and a hypochondriac Martian from WotW.

Never loved SoulSearchers (David's a better columnist than fiction humourist), but I might pick this one up.