Did I mention that I got booked as an extra for NCIS on Monday?

And that the shoot is at the mall 8 miles away?

No?

Yeah.

Schweet!

Also, my son is sleeping brilliantly, and it's only 1930. Usually he's seriously upset by an attack of gastric distress. Okay, so since that might be a really bad medical condition that I don't know about, I'll rephrase:

The poor guy has gas problems. He'll be really upset when he should be sleeping because he's just got to fart it out.

Not right now though, so points for that.

To whom? I don't know, but points, nonetheless.

Weirdness over, good night.