In dreams

Last night I dreamed:

• I saw Cantatrix in concert, only there were about a hundred of them. I had to whap two old ladies in the back of the head to get them to shut up.
  
  
• I ate one of my own fingers. Right off the hand.
  
  
• I watched Brad Pitt and Survivor's Bobby-Jon beat each other up in an aircraft hangar. I had control of a jumbo jet via some sort of tractor-waldo, which I kept swinging around to interpose between them. They ended up making out.

No more hott ladies for Leo

After an hour on the phone with Verizon, they now agree with me about the Leo situation. The servicelady called all the numbers on our bill, one of which turned out to be a cell phone in Texas belonging to someone who had not heard of us but had heard of Leo. She has credited us the whopping $3.95 in long-distance calls, placed a 900 block on our line, and dispatched a repair person to investigate. We still need to deal with the (far more expensive) sex line bill we've already received, but Verizon-lady agreed to conference call with them if need be.

She was very helpful, but, incredibly, she still tried to sell me services while I was making my complaint. I'm sorry, nice lady, but when someone calls about a theft and possibly an invasion of privacy, he does not want to hear about special deals on DSL. Really.