Outkast's Andre 3000 is in talks to play Jimi Hendrix in a biopic directed by Allen and Albert Hughes ("Menace II Society," "American Pimp").

If anyone can do it, Dre can.

Also from MTV. This should be interesting. Ahem.

I hate car dealerships and salesmen. And that's all I have to say about that.

OK, not really. I called the guy back at the first dealer, the ones who kept us waiting and pissed us off. He came back with a lower trade in value of $6800 after factoring in my Dad's discount. Now I'm positive the markup was included in the original value of $8300. I told him I wasn't happy about that and I'd have to figure out what I wanted to do. I called another guy my Dad knows at a third dealership. He gave me the book value of $5500 based on model and mileage. I get the feeling they take that number and subtract depending on the car's condition.

I'm not sure what to do now. Jeff had a friend mention he'd like to buy the car a while back, so he's going to talk to him soon. If we decide not to try to sell it (which could be a nightmare), we may have to suck it up and trade anyway. I did get some prices from an auto sales website, though most listings were from dealers. They varied from as low as $6995 (with over 125K miles), to $14,300 (with 50,000 miles). I was hoping for no lower than $8000 for trade or to sell. And what the guy at the second place told me about no one wanting to finance a car that old, blah blah blah, in trying to justify the amount is a lie. I financed the '96 through my credit union, and I know a few other people who have financed older cars. Did I mention I hate car dealerships and salesmen?

So far so good on Yasmin. Well, except for the bizarre dreams. More on that in a second. It's probably too early to tell.

I dreamt last night that I broke my sister-in-law's boyfriend's wrist. At least I think it was him. I know he has a motorcycle jacket, and I have my Harley Davidson jacket, too. We both had them on in a store when we ran into each other. I think it started out friendly, and maybe we were horsing around. (This is someone I generally always get along with. He also has a ponytail and shares the same birthday as me.) Somehow it got to me maybe jokingly doing the cop wrist lock on him, where I grab his wrist and force it behind him and up his back. I remember a crack and seeing the protruding bone (though not through the skin). I don't remember anything past that. Very strange.