I fear reading too much celebrity gossip (see also: gawker, defamer, fametracker) has changed the neural pathways of my brain. Last night I had a dream, and after putting it through the patented dream interpretation bot, I can tell you that in this dream Gwyneth Paltrow was the symbol of my grief over my father's death. I mean, really. My father would not be pleased. For Godsakes, the man didn't know who britney spears was until last year. I need to go back on the wagon. The wagon of no celebrity news whatsoever. I'm off to unplug and cook myself in the sun and sand of ocean city.