Bring me a dream and I will KILZ it.

I am officially a woman who doesn't sleep. Yesterday I got approximately 4 hours and tonight, it's almost 3AM and the Sandman is nowhere near this joint. That bastard is avoiding me like I told him I love him and don't want to read the Sunday paper with anyone but him for the rest of our natural lives.

Which I did.

I've been working on the house, AKA Swinging Single Chick Pad, that I'm moving into soon. I should be unconscious because it is stressful, and tiring, and because I've used so much KILZ, I can taste it - in my nose. 

I was telling my friend Steel that I had KILZ'd all day and he asked me what KILZ was and I told him it was primer and he said, well then why don't you just call it primer, and I said because it's KILZ and he said the way I'm using the word is like someone saying hey I've been Kleenexing my nose all day.

And then I stopped talking to him because I had to tinkle and Charmin my ass, and also because I don't like to have my use of proper nouns questioned.

Ever.

Speaking of Steel, I just found out he is introducing me to a long time business partner/associate/friend of his this fall. I don't know how that tidbit fits here, but I'm a woman who hasn't slept since 1942, so you'll read it and you'll like it.

Steel and I are business partners actually, so I get the feeling he wants to show me what a REALLY cool business partner is like in hopes that I will wear three piece suits and buy a pocket watch and talk about how Jones on the third floor needs an attitude adjustment.

I won't.

This guy's name is Robert and according to Steel, Robert is the smartest man in the entire universe. Wait. Maybe I should change Robert's name to protect his identity. Forget I said Robert.

So this guy Roberto is allegedly so damn smart that if he wanted to, he could lift a Big Gulp of tequila using nothing but the power of his mind. He can do long division - in French. Steel said if Roberto were to have a Brain-Off with Einstein (providing Einstein was not on the other side of the dirt), Roberto would beat him so badly, we would all forever after make reference to the Theory of Robertotivity.

God I love the taste of low-hanging fruit in the wee hours. 

I don't want to look like a complete dumbass when I meet this man, the business apple of my partner's eye, so I'm brushing up on things to say that will make me appear smart. I plan to talk a lot about whether the light really goes off in the refrigerator when you close the door, and then I'll say something about carrying the one and multiplying by eleventy, and I'll throw in a couple foreign sounding words just to bring it on home. A little Zamboni, a little Parkay, and I'm looking like a regular intellectual.

I have to close this rambling now. I think I heard the sound of the Sandman's key in the door. I'm gonna go tell him how much I love him and pluck a hair from his head.

CSI Paternity.