Sunday morning, I woke up from a bizarre dream:
I was in an 80s spy show, and the arch villain was Mitt Romney. Not played by Mitt Romney, but the former governor of Massachusetts, the current Republican candidate, Mitt-as-he-is-now Romney. And he was attacking me with his flock of robot owls.
It definitely wasn’t a nightmare, because somewhere, in the back of my mind, as I was fleeing from the owls and their laser eyes and razor-edged tail feathers, I said to myself, “This is screwed up. And awesome.”
Today, after an excellent swim, I was belting up the 405 when I pass a white Mercedes SUV. Its license plate? MITT 08.
I passed the car, but didn’t get a close look at the driver. I’m pretty sure, however, there were no robot owls inside.
This means something