The other night I had a dream that someone was trying to steal my dog, so I got into a fight with them with tranquilizer gun.

I managed to throw the guy into a passing truck bed, or something, and then I was in a car with Gary Cobain and Brian Dougans of Future sound of London. They were playing me their new album and telling me I was the first to hear it.

I watched "Hancock" over the weekend and liked it, for some reason.

I have been trying to wear contacts, which is very odd. Being able to see without stuff on your face is pretty cool, but putting them on and taking them off sucks. Perhaps I'll get the hang of it. Here's hoping.

The Diverje gig in North Carolina was canceled. I wish morons weren't allowed to be promoters.

Here's a fact; in the music business, the squeaky wheel gets the grease, but you also need to know when to shut up. You shut up just when people think you're annoying. If a promoter can't even begin to be squeaky, they're not going to have anyone come to their event.

Learn it, people.