"Am I the only one who needs a Glick Fix?"

This makes Thursdays good again. Everytime I watch it, I think "This time, I'll be disappointed. This time, he'll be extra predictable." Nope. It's in the way Martin Short makes Glick phrase things that makes this show so damn funny.

So the day started off strange but nice in retrospect. The last dreams of the early morning consisted of me, in the form of some human car, rolling gently along a greened path of unidentifiable, chartruese groundcover and then, it bogs me down. I try to continue on, but I am like a wind-up toy on thick carpet. The groundcover parts beneath my wheels and I realize that I am on a thick, plexiglass surface covered loosely with this light-colored vegetation. I backtrack and realize that this place is a good place. Why? Because in the background, I hear faintly the recorded information speaking of this hallowed Bunny Ground, one of the last of its tiny kind. And as I looked around, I focused on small, pink, fuzzy bunnies munching fresh grass all around them. They were so small, three would fit in the palm of your hand.

The more I looked for them, the smallerI found them. It was like focusing in on a trail of ants; the more you look, the more you see around you. And the smallest ones were smaller than a pinky fingernail of a baby. And they crunched along through the tiny, vibrantly greened shoots of wheat grass, and they feasted on the smallest purple flowers and buds I had ever imagined.

And all I wanted to do was touch the smallest bunny. Fearing that I would hurt it with my finger, I unfurled this massive index finger at the smallest rabbit, and it looked up from its purple flower lunchbreak and timidly sniffed the tip of my finger. I felt like I had done something right, and still.

I brushed a heap of the green groundcover away, and through the plexiglass I saw a freshwater pond underneath us all with hundreds of orange and white scaled japanese koi swimming in one direction. Swimming to a light I couldn't see. Just looking at them relaxed me most. So I closed my eyes and lay my head down on the ground. And they began to swim deeper, and they began to beep and the beeping grew louder, from over the pasture and into the white sky. And I opened my eyes and returned to my room again, bright with no details, with a black dog thumping his tail on the floor. It's Christmas Day again, he smiles. I should wake up, and I do.

So my day always begins with a visit to the web pages that comfort me most. And what do I see but talk of the Peep Mobile. That's right, the puffy, marshmallow candy has its own travelling ad bus. Not just one, but two. And I plan to see it in August when it comes here, and I don't even like marshmallow Peeps.

But there you have it, I thought. I am dreaming about tiny pink bunnies; I think it's important only to find out that I am dreaming about Peeps. But I don't even like them. I don't get the strange synchronicity.

And then, all day, the only thing I can think of is Primetime Glick, my zoftig comedy relief, one of the few tv shows I actually remember to watch besides The Simpsons and Ground Force. How extremely comforting Glick is to me, I laugh outloud. Which is rare, but appreciated. And now I sit here, at the end of the day, 11:54 pm, and I'm eating from a bag of frozen miniature marshmallows left over from Christmas.

And it's not so bad. In fact, everything's very, very good.

Hopefully tonight, I'll dream about tiny fried chickens and a nice white merlot.