I had a dream last night that I was in a large house with a foyer. In the foyer hung an enormous potrait of Alan Keyes. Every time I walked out of the room and back in again, the potrait would change. Sometimes Alan would smile, sometimes he would frown. One time, he was wearing a Red Sox cap. Another time, he gave me the finger. I amused myself for what seemed like hours by walking in and out of the foyer, until Alan Colmes told me to stop because I was disturbing the people who had come to view Elvis.
Shrug. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I paid a shiva call
last night. Or maybe it was the pepperoni pizza.