Last night went well, thank you.

You know, when I talked about Sara Rue and how she looks different in real life than she does on television, I just recall saying exactly that: That she looks different in real life than she does on television. It�s strange, but I don�t really recall saying that it�s bad to be overweight, or even calling her overweight, or saying that overweight people are unattractive.

Reading my guestbook, though, you�d think I was worse than Hitler.

Reading before you respond is helpful.

And for the record, yes, this is my picture.

No, really!

Genius.

So.

I don�t know what it is about this week, but I have not been awake since Monday morning at 1:30 am when I went to sleep. When, in your dream, you�re dreaming that you�re tired, you can generally take that as a bad sign. Despite a massive campaign on my part to caffeinate myself to the point of consciousness, I am sleepy, yet jumpy.

America�s war on nap time will be won.

So, I think I�m sleepy because I spent lots of time on Sunday jamming small pieces of wood together in an attempt to make something resembling home furnishings.

Jon Boy and myself had started the day by rummaging through used furniture stores. I was hunting for those ever elusive, chock full of character, old items of interest. For some reason, stores in Los Angeles assume they can charge upwards of $60 for a small, dirty, barely surviving end table. It wasn�t long before we just decided to go ahead and become Consumers and head out for Ikea.

There�s an Ikea that�s really far north of us, and an Ikea that�s really far south. We went to both. We were greatly chagrined by the idea that, when people asked us which Ikea we went to this weekend, we could say �All of them.�

That�s funny in theory, but, unfortunately, no one seems to care.

We also wasted an hour trying to find a Krispy Kreme that we were sure was right around the corner from wherever we were. It was like the Flying Dutchman of donut shops. It was incredibly spooky.

Well, not really. In any case, we never found it.

So, we headed off to Target to exchange our currency for more goods and services. Jonny was my �money bitch� all day, as we discovered very early on that my debit card refused to function. I threw a stereo into the shopping cart, slapped him, and made him tearfully hand his card over to the cashier while I looked on, eating a big sandwich and callously considering out loud whether or not I should keep him as a roommate.

Later, our roles were reversed when I made cookies.

White chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

Then he made me pay for all the stuff I bought.

Bastard.

In addition to the cookies, large amounts of tacos and chips were consumed. This resulted in some unpleasantness the next day. Then I went out last night, had fun, and here I am, saying hello to you from a slow Tuesday afternoon.

Tonight I have my first improv class out here at the Improvolympic.

Excitement!

Just so you know (in case you�re ever in a similar situation) Andy Dick can become slightly huffy, albeit in a joking way, if you accuse him of hallucinating.

It was clearly a slice of bread on my plate, however, and not meatloaf.