...or I'm drinking too much prescription cough syrup (again).

Last night I had a dream. It was an awesome dream.

I was Gene Rayburn, host of the Match Game! It was after the show and Brett and Charles and I went to cruise the strip in Charles' Nash Metropolitan, drinking from a thermos of martinis Brett had stashed in her purse and that, incredibly, we garnished from a huge jar of prepared olives Charles had in his glove compartment.

As we drove along, we shouted out snappy putdowns at pedestrians. Charles scored the best, when he inexplicably called to a pair of streetwalkers "The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame called - they want Elvis' underpants back!". I still don't get it, but it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard.

At the end of the night, we stopped at Oki Dogs for a late night snack before our bedtimes.

Then I woke up.

But in my bed with me, I found a hand-burned CD. I slapped it into my clock radio-CD player. There was only one track on it

What does it all mean?

Means I'm gonna lay off the cough syrup for a while, that's what it means. Hello, NyQuil, I guess it's just you and me drivin' this chartreuse microbus now...