Space Oddity

My father's new-found religion is slightly frightening. Oh, he's not spewing verses at us or toting around a Bible (that, my friends, would REALLY be a Sign), but I came downstairs this morning to the sight of him watching BET's Gospel Show (and don't get me started on the hypocrisy wrapped up in that bit of programming; yes, I realize I'm afflicted with the disease where I equate blatant sexuality with the profane - thank you, RC and Co.! - but it really is odd to go from video hos shakin' their ass and hardcore rappers talking about the trials and tribulations involved with selling illegal substances six days of the week to people wearing choir gowns and praising God in song). He did occasionally flip over to CNN, but it made me want to rub my eyes and attempt to wake up. I guess he's hit the part of his midlife crisis where he's worried less about looking hot for the honeys and more about his soul, or some junk. Vaguely worried, but hmm. Now if he can work on being a little less assy things'll be great. Maybe in another 53 years?
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There is something wrong with being unable to get more than five hours of sleep a night when you're used to hitting at least eight, yes? Just checking.