Spatulahead??

OK, I don't know how in the world Kevin (or whoever did it) accomplished it, but when I woke up this morning, there was music blaring in the den and my parents bedroom. And Kevin is in Mankato. So, unless he set some sort of timer, it probably wasn't him.

And it was ominous, creepy music. Like if the Exorcist was on a date with Bjork and instead of making sweet, sweet love, they decided to make bone-chilling music freakier than anorexic Lindsay Lohan.

The whole scene made me feel like I was in the House of Wax. And not the good House of Wax either, the House of Wax starring Paris Hilton. So it was like a nauseous kind of scared. But scared none the less.

I thought I'd turn around and Spatulahead would be there to lop my head off, in a fiendish attempt to attach my head on his shoulders, thus making the nickname Spatulahead obsolete, thuse going by his new nickname Johnny Bumphead.

So, in the end, what I'm saying is...it was freaky.