rejectomorph | QUIET! I'M SLEEPING!

A jet flew over the house at what sounded like an elevation of about two hundred feet. It woke me up before eleven o'clock, again! I've been unable to get back to sleep because of the stuffy virus-laden head. Only the military and the rich have jets. I'm going to assume that it was John Travolta who is to blame. Crash, you Scientological air cowboy! Crash and burn! OK. That doesn't get me back to sleep, but it does make me feel a little bit better. Never underestimate the value of a good imprecation.