I had a dream the other night that somehow I had hordes of live, small insects under the skin in my arms and hands. I don't know if the dream was a portent of something (of what, I don't know and don't want to) or a mash-up of impressions and experiences I'd been collecting that somehow were triggered and just showed up. Thoughts for another time.
Anyway, in the first moments after awakening the following day, I got a visual memory stuck in my brain of a guy, I correctly recalled his name as "Bob," who'd been all over television ads in the early years of the 21st Century, hawking a vasodilator that was cashing in on the newly unleashed profitability of Pfizer's Viagra (but without Bob Dole).
Of course, I Googled to see what the name of the product was, Enzyte, as it turned out, and got a lot more than I bargained for ('that's what she said!' That <= will make more sense after you read this. Maybe.).
A sad end to a working stiff.
-bill kenny
