Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Mr. Sandman...

Instead of the cure for cancer or at least a brilliant way to fix my screenplay, I have been dreaming about Rachael's Idol chances. Two nights ago - Rachael went in and was not allowed to sing. They told her they already had someone of who fit her type. Luckily, aside from one weird earthquake thing in 1996, I have no psychic ability whatsoever.

1 comment:

twitter said...

Is my "type" tall metallic wearing drink of water?