On the way to dinner at my cousin's house, I'm pretty sure I saw monkey roadkill.  This was in NJ, not like Western Africa.

Also, this seems to be the thread for me to recount my own tryptophan dream:

I carry a severed head unto a crowded train whose seating and lighting give the carriage the feel of a Victorian living room.  I hold the head up, letting blood drip from where its neck should be, and read a particularly gory version of the Principia Discordia, with annotations from Achewood characters.  The head reacts to the reading.  Hail Eris.  I am traveling with two A/V specialists, one of whom seems to be perpetually napping, and wakes up periodically to hear about the specifics of the next job.  The job seems to always be the same, regardless of where we are; it involves relocating a cable.  I am somehow tricked into both appendicitis and an undisclosed dental injury, which requires surgery from a group of college students at what is apparently a tennis academy.  A girl I had been eating lunch with turns out to be the nurse, and comforts me before I am given anesthesia.  She kisses me on the neck very nicely.  As soon as I am unconscious, the team of doctors takes out a battalion of enormous foam props (e.g. foam hammer), and rejoices in having tricked me into an ineffective and possibly hellish surgery.  It occurs to me I can observe these doctors/frat boy clowns because I assumed the role of a camera angle, immediately after the anesthesia had been administered.  I escape the surgery, and am now possibly one of the A/V specialists, and describe very earnestly how, “Yep, you guessed it, a cable needs to be moved.”  I am now in a corridor in what’s supposedly Madison Square Garden, watching maybe Brendan Shanahan shoot a puck at a door from 5 feet away, the completion of which task elicits enormous applause.  Former Rangers announcer John Davidson is there.  Does he represent God?

What does it all mean?  I usually just dream about talking with my friends, and sometimes I put music on if I remember to.  The cool thing about listening to music in your dreams is that the album you need just appears in your hand.  Like I'll think, "I want the Japanese version of Purple Rain on vinyl," and I'll be holding it. 

I'm really looking to get into Audioslave.  Any recommendations?

Current toddler status, 10/25: To her, playing soccer means yelling “SOCCER!” at a soccer ball. The apple does not fall far from the tree.

This is very specific, but the last 2:15 of 'Found A Job' by Talking Heads on the The Name Of This Band Is Talking Heads album.

Good call but wouldn't you prefer grooving on the video version from Stop Making Sense, where the guitarist is just acting a fool with those two backup singers?  I went to a party once where someone was playing the DVD on surround sound speakers, and there were nachos too, and it was the best party.  Unfortunately, some guy approached everyone individually and would mime playing bass and say "Who am I? Who am I? Say who I am!" until you told him he was Tina Weymouth.  It was kind of like "I got to imitate Tina Weymouth, dude!  There comes a time!"

If you were DJing a party, and had just 15 minutes in which to get everybody dancing and convince a discerning woman (or man) of your ear for music, what songs do you play.  I'd go with:

David Bowie - Fashion (4:51)
Talking Heads - Life During Wartime (3:41)
LCD Soundsystem - Tribulations (4:58)

I would spend the remaining time either doing the ***** (automaton) or dry-humping the discerning woman (or man) I have no doubt impressed.

For Father's Day, I'll finally let my dad know that disclosing my homosexuality was just an April Fools gag.  It's been a difficult 3 months of wearing nothing but capris.

   
Current toddler status, 6/15: On Saturday we are going to see Otto the Clown 'Copter, who apparently has a 75 lb. functioning yo-yo.

Definitely read Grant Morrison's run on New X-Men (it's collected into 7 TPB's, most of which should be available at a good library).  Compared with the films, Morrison's work is an order of magnitude more sophisticated and interesting, etc., and though his approach is a bit nontraditionalist, the only thing sacrificed is the two-dimensionality of the characters and the vacancy of the dialogue.