It must be the hour...

It's 3:45 AM and I've been having trouble sleeping tonight. I was going to give it another try, but first I checked my mail, a nasty habit. Among the spam was a name on a from line that started me laughing and if I don't stop, I'll be awake for the rest of the night.

The name was Francisco Hawkins and he was selling me Prada shoes.

I know it's just the hour, but the picture of a suave, Spanish hillbilly, shoe salesman slipping a pair of size 10 1/2 Prada heels on to my foot is going through my brain (what's left of it). At least they are a color that compliments my mustache.

On that note, I'll try to get some sleep. I'm not sure whether I'm looking forward to dreaming or dreading it.