  last night, my own urlLink dream was urlLink not unlike an episode of " urlLink crime scene investigators ," or " urlLink csi " as the kids like to call it, in which i was thoroughly urlLink investigating various urlLink undisclosed urlLink crime scenes . i'd urlLink walk into urlLink whatever place needed checking out, urlLink waving my arms around and kind of slinking back and forth between the urlLink murder weapon lying on the carpeting and the refrigerator stocked with buckets of urlLink chicken and biscuits (mmm, urlLink love affair with butter) and repeatedly assure everyone that all was " urlLink under control -" or "uc" as the urlLink kids like to call it.
between urlLink bites of chicken (and urlLink biscuits ), of course. it was easy being a detective. i kept getting barbeque sauce all over the evidence, but i did a great job of swabbing my q-tips against everything, including the tips of the ceiling fan blades, as to be able to say, "i did a great fucking job, you ass. didn't you see me using the q-tips? " in the end, i did not actually solve the crime, although i have a sneaking suspicion it was colonel mustard in the den with the flashlight. at least i got paid; i drove off in the yacht parked in the driveway right into a waiting sea of what appeared to be urlLink ecto cooler . 
