I Have A Dream

Actually, I should say that I HAD a dream. Last night, that is. I had a dream that The Freakin' Hott was competing in a battle of the bands at Madison Square Garden, and that the main band we were up against was Rasputina. I realize that this makes no sense, mostly because in the dream I felt really threatened by Rasputina. I could see if it were Sepultura or Blue Suede, or even Eddie Rabbit, but Rasputina? The dreaming mind works in mysterious ways.

You know I hate to gossip, which is why I do it all the time, but anyone who is a fan of crusty-scab-lipped celebrities should really check out this week's Star Magazine. Katie Holmes has the herp - apparently the herp of the century. Funny she didn't have the herp until she started "dating" Tom Cruise. We're not talking about one little cold sore here, people. She looks like she put her upper lip through a meat grinder, which is coincidentally Tom's nickname around the French Quarter. You didn't hear that from me - the corpse of L. Ron Hubbard tells all.

The air conditioning in this house is just not cutting it with this near-summer heat. All of the cats are melted all over the place like a feline version of The Persistence of Memory. It's all I can do to concentrate on Episode 5 of season 2 of Magnum PI without sweating through my Monday afternoon-evening gown and feather boa, not to mention my mascara is smearing to oblivion. And you think YOU'VE got problems?

Maggie