Two Dreams
First off, some people claim that people dream in black and white but assign colors when they remember it. This makes no sense to me, as I wake up sometimes fixated on a colored item from the dream. You see, think and daydream in color. When your mind is left to its own devices, why wouldn't it rely on the familiar? Anyway, here are my last two dreams. As with my other dreams, they're a little bizarre.
Biking
I went to visit my parents in Los Angeles, then I was supposed to hitch a ride with my ex-boyfriend Gerald to San Francisco and visit my college friends. The house I grew up in is on top of a pretty big hill, and at the bottom is a shopping center. Me and Steve went to hang out in the grocery and for some reason got really wasted in the produce department. Afterwards, we sat in this huge pick-up truck, with Steve doing sobriety tests on himself to prove he can drive and me pointing out that the letter "L" is way after the letter "P" in the backwards alphabet.
My ex-husband drives by, but is so disgusted with how drunk we are that he leaves us there. Bicycles magically appear so we start riding up the hill, but it's really, steep and really long and the bicycles were actually made for 6-year-olds or something because mine still had training wheels. We get to my parents house, Steve disappears and two punks follow me into the house. My parents are just standing there frozen, so I call 911. My ex appears and he's sheperding drugged out people into the bathroom, to hide the fact that he's been getting high in my house. I walk up and start screaming at him, and he knows I just called the police so he stabs me in the hand with a hypodermic needle so that I'll have drugs in my system and get in trouble too. (I feel compelled to state that my ex-husband does not actually do drugs in real life.)
I end up leaving the house before the cops come, Steve magically reappears and we make plans to meet some of his Aussie friends at a party in El Segundo ("I left my wallet in El Segundo.") But when we get there, his friends flake and we don't know a single person there. So I sit down with a group of random chicks and we play Rummikub, amidst a crapload of nail polish bottles that had been wrapped as gifts. The end.
The Mall
I'm shopping at a mall with my friend Cheryl and a girl I knew in high school, Tobi. We end up going through double doors and climbing a really, really, really tall wrought iron staircase, like when you climb into the torch in the Statue of Liberty. The walls are mango-colored and every ten steps or so, I write the words "FALSE START" magically in the air in black capital letters. At the top of the staircase is a freeway entrance, and the cars racing by have my sorority's Greek letters on them. We ride around in a car for awhile, but then go back to the staircase. Some guy that looks like Jude Law starts chasing us, making weird jokes about the FALSE START letters.
We run back into the mall, split up and hide. The guy chasing us can somehow see through our eyes, so I try to pick a place that has no discerning markers. Like how on CSI they look at pictures and use technology to figure out where it was taken. I lay flat on my stomach and hide behind this pile of clothes on the floor in a store, and the guy comes in with a midget that looks like the one on Fantasy Island. They eventually leave, but then the plot of the dream changes. Now, me, Geo and Abel are hanging out in this store which has some couches int he front. Another guy comes in and starts chit-chatting with us about some guy we know but don't care about named Brian.
Brian walks in, pissed and decks the guy. He then walks up to Geo, who isn't even looking at him, takes out this leather drawstring pouch with a beaded handle and hits Geo across the face with it. The pouch makes a loud sound because it's filled with gold coins. Geo whips around and is throwing a punch but a bunch of store employees grab him to break up the fight. I get freaked out because I hate it when this shit happens in real life, people break up a fight and only restrain one person, leaving the other free to do whatever they want. I start thinking Brian is going to stab Geo while he's restrained so I jump in front of him and punch him in the windpipe. While he's grabbing at it, I kick him in the balls. Then I grab the back of his head and knee him in the nose, breaking it. He's still trying to get up and punch me so I take his leather pouch and start whipping him in the face with it, right on his broken nose.
Later on we find out the reason he stepped to us was because we knew he was using some rich chick for her money, while dating another one, and he was afraid we were going to tell her.
Please. Why would we do that without offering him the chance to pay us hush money first. We're not monsters.
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
December 22, 2006
July 13, 2006
Stuff
Stuff
1. Haven't been following Rudy Giuliani for the last few years, but when I worked in the city from 1997-2000 I read every article in every NY paper about him. I remember nodding my head a lot and cheering him. My point is if Giuliani ran for president in 2008 I'd probably volunteer on his campaign.
2. I did a search on that Ford commercial where the woman in the passenger seat says "Gracias Manuel" after her ex moves a tree out of the road for her and her boyfriend. I found a whole bunch of white supremacy boards pissed off about the fact that her white boyfriend was portrayed as a dork, and an equal amount of Spanish boards pissed off that her Mexican ex-boyfriend was doing "manual labor" (if one can consider driving a truck actual manual labor.) Really, I just wanted to know who the hot guy is that played the ex in the pickup. I have a thing for guys in cowboy hats. It stems from that episode of Baywatch Hawaii (which I used to watch on mute) where Jason Mamoa struts around in faded jeans and a cowboy hat.
3. There are people in the world that eat out of trash bins. Yeah, that's no news flash. But the people I'm referring to call themselves Freegans and eat out of trash bins because they want to, not have to. I'm going to chalk the "Freegans" up to yet another group of people I can't wrap my brain around, right along with:
-Scientologists
-Furries (those people that get turned on by furry mascot suits)
-People who like to get pissed or shat upon
-The Amish
4. I am turning 30 in 11 days and I keep hearing the million dollar question, "Riss, what do you want for your birthday?" Which is weird because I'm easy to shop for ...right? I mean they could pretty much just show up at my house with a bag of McNuggets and some Spicy Buffalo sauce. But then I figured they probably know what I've lusted over but don't know what I already have. So here is my Amazon wishlist, knock yourself out if you're so inclined. You'll notice that there are American-type Turkish delights on there, listed as "highest priority." Yum. YES! I've joined a gym.
5. Last year celebrities were using teeny little dogs as accessories. This year it's teeny little babies. I wonder what next year's "it" thing to have will be. Midgets maybe.
6. The night before last, I shut off Law and Order: SVU and went right to sleep. The episode was about people who are addicted to sex and need it like 4 times a day or they go crazy. I guess the way I feel when I wash my hands and need lotion. Anyway, I dreamt that I was having sex with Batman and he didn't want to jump the gun so to speak, so he pulled out. But it was too late and he shot it right into my eye. It wasn't a bad dream. Those tormented superheroes are the ones to go for. They just get right down to business and bypass the Cosmo stuff. Let's imagine for a moment that superheroes were real, and what they'd be like in bed. The Flash aka "Fastest Man Alive" well... that's pretty self-explanatory. Superman would probably be a bit scary, because you never know if that super strength might come out at the wrong time.
7. It's weird how a complete lack of common sense is so accepted these days.
"I put a steel implant in my penis and it broke."
"I smoked 5 packs a day for 40 years and now I have cancer."
"I put a huge bag of silicone in my tit and it popped."
Really? You think?
1. Haven't been following Rudy Giuliani for the last few years, but when I worked in the city from 1997-2000 I read every article in every NY paper about him. I remember nodding my head a lot and cheering him. My point is if Giuliani ran for president in 2008 I'd probably volunteer on his campaign.
2. I did a search on that Ford commercial where the woman in the passenger seat says "Gracias Manuel" after her ex moves a tree out of the road for her and her boyfriend. I found a whole bunch of white supremacy boards pissed off about the fact that her white boyfriend was portrayed as a dork, and an equal amount of Spanish boards pissed off that her Mexican ex-boyfriend was doing "manual labor" (if one can consider driving a truck actual manual labor.) Really, I just wanted to know who the hot guy is that played the ex in the pickup. I have a thing for guys in cowboy hats. It stems from that episode of Baywatch Hawaii (which I used to watch on mute) where Jason Mamoa struts around in faded jeans and a cowboy hat.
3. There are people in the world that eat out of trash bins. Yeah, that's no news flash. But the people I'm referring to call themselves Freegans and eat out of trash bins because they want to, not have to. I'm going to chalk the "Freegans" up to yet another group of people I can't wrap my brain around, right along with:
-Scientologists
-Furries (those people that get turned on by furry mascot suits)
-People who like to get pissed or shat upon
-The Amish
4. I am turning 30 in 11 days and I keep hearing the million dollar question, "Riss, what do you want for your birthday?" Which is weird because I'm easy to shop for ...right? I mean they could pretty much just show up at my house with a bag of McNuggets and some Spicy Buffalo sauce. But then I figured they probably know what I've lusted over but don't know what I already have. So here is my Amazon wishlist, knock yourself out if you're so inclined. You'll notice that there are American-type Turkish delights on there, listed as "highest priority." Yum. YES! I've joined a gym.
5. Last year celebrities were using teeny little dogs as accessories. This year it's teeny little babies. I wonder what next year's "it" thing to have will be. Midgets maybe.
6. The night before last, I shut off Law and Order: SVU and went right to sleep. The episode was about people who are addicted to sex and need it like 4 times a day or they go crazy. I guess the way I feel when I wash my hands and need lotion. Anyway, I dreamt that I was having sex with Batman and he didn't want to jump the gun so to speak, so he pulled out. But it was too late and he shot it right into my eye. It wasn't a bad dream. Those tormented superheroes are the ones to go for. They just get right down to business and bypass the Cosmo stuff. Let's imagine for a moment that superheroes were real, and what they'd be like in bed. The Flash aka "Fastest Man Alive" well... that's pretty self-explanatory. Superman would probably be a bit scary, because you never know if that super strength might come out at the wrong time.
7. It's weird how a complete lack of common sense is so accepted these days.
"I put a steel implant in my penis and it broke."
"I smoked 5 packs a day for 40 years and now I have cancer."
"I put a huge bag of silicone in my tit and it popped."
Really? You think?
June 1, 2006
Dreams (As In Real Ones Not The Fleetwood Mac Song)
Dreams (As In Real Ones Not The Fleetwood Mac Song)
But first, my last show is available for download here.
Also, this past holiday weekend I ate: Crispy crab won-tons, taquitos, chicken marsala, popcorn shrimp, fries, coleslaw, pizza, Oreo cheesecake, two corn dogs, more fries, california rolls, guacamole, spinach dip and pita bread, penne a la vodka with grilled chicken and asparagus, beef tacos, pork chops, garlic mashed potatoes, cauliflower, string beans, corn on the cob, General Tso's chicken, more pizza, fried chicken from KFC, chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes with gravy, biscuits, more coleslaw, a coffee Coolatta, double chocolate donut, spicy BBq chips, banana marshmallow pies, Cheez-its, a Jamaican beef patty and a Dairy Queen Heath bar blizzard.
Oh but then I drank a Diet Coke. Okay not really, it was regular Coke.
For you armchair computer psychologists, I've been having weird dreams again. In the one that sticks out, I was carrying around one of those plastic chinese food trays and it was filled with slimy worms, slugs, caterpillars and those nasty brown bugs that look like the one they pulled out of Neo's stomach in The Matrix. The tray tipped over onto my bed and I kept trying to get the creepy crawlies back in without touching them. Eventually, I got them in the tray and then accidentally set it down on the stove. They burned to a crisp and my sister Leah ran in crying because they were her bugs, which was why I was trying to save them.
Last night I dreamt that me and Julian Mcmahon (Dr. Christian Troy on Nip/Tuck) were on a romantic cruise. Or so I thought. Really the trip was a front for his illegal dealings with some shady-looking characters. At one point he had lunch with some random pregnant chick I know from a message board. So I dumped him, but then he played the accordion. And I guess that was enough for me to take him back. Dream Me is really, really easy. Hey Riss, did you get laid? No. Have I mentioned that my dreams really really suck?
Awhile back I dreamt that Geo and I were in a supermarket, and that we came across some girl that was digging on a dirt hillside. Yes, a hillside right in the middle of the supermarket, to the left of the frozen foods aisle. She had a whole bunch of random stuff that she stole from my girl Nadia, whom she was stalking. We went to meet Nadia at some hotel in the city, but when we got there, we were split off into groups. For some reason, each group had to make a home video and learn a dance routine. We made the video, but the judges screamed at Geo's cousin Aris who directed it, because they thought he was making fun of the hurricane in Florida. But he wasn't, it's just that someone had left a window open in the room during filming.
Then there was a scene where I had to explain the 5th Amendment to Nadia's stalker. Afterwards, our group had to do the dance routine, which I faked because I'd forgotten to learn it. I don't know why but the judges made us perform it on top of metal folding chairs. Picture like 20 people line dancing on top of two rows of folding chairs, while three judges watch from onstage. It was just a weird dream. The dream I had before it was one of my usual almost-got-laid dreams, but more interesting than usual because it had kinky dialogue. You take what you can get.
But first, my last show is available for download here.
Also, this past holiday weekend I ate: Crispy crab won-tons, taquitos, chicken marsala, popcorn shrimp, fries, coleslaw, pizza, Oreo cheesecake, two corn dogs, more fries, california rolls, guacamole, spinach dip and pita bread, penne a la vodka with grilled chicken and asparagus, beef tacos, pork chops, garlic mashed potatoes, cauliflower, string beans, corn on the cob, General Tso's chicken, more pizza, fried chicken from KFC, chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes with gravy, biscuits, more coleslaw, a coffee Coolatta, double chocolate donut, spicy BBq chips, banana marshmallow pies, Cheez-its, a Jamaican beef patty and a Dairy Queen Heath bar blizzard.
Oh but then I drank a Diet Coke. Okay not really, it was regular Coke.
For you armchair computer psychologists, I've been having weird dreams again. In the one that sticks out, I was carrying around one of those plastic chinese food trays and it was filled with slimy worms, slugs, caterpillars and those nasty brown bugs that look like the one they pulled out of Neo's stomach in The Matrix. The tray tipped over onto my bed and I kept trying to get the creepy crawlies back in without touching them. Eventually, I got them in the tray and then accidentally set it down on the stove. They burned to a crisp and my sister Leah ran in crying because they were her bugs, which was why I was trying to save them.
Last night I dreamt that me and Julian Mcmahon (Dr. Christian Troy on Nip/Tuck) were on a romantic cruise. Or so I thought. Really the trip was a front for his illegal dealings with some shady-looking characters. At one point he had lunch with some random pregnant chick I know from a message board. So I dumped him, but then he played the accordion. And I guess that was enough for me to take him back. Dream Me is really, really easy. Hey Riss, did you get laid? No. Have I mentioned that my dreams really really suck?
Awhile back I dreamt that Geo and I were in a supermarket, and that we came across some girl that was digging on a dirt hillside. Yes, a hillside right in the middle of the supermarket, to the left of the frozen foods aisle. She had a whole bunch of random stuff that she stole from my girl Nadia, whom she was stalking. We went to meet Nadia at some hotel in the city, but when we got there, we were split off into groups. For some reason, each group had to make a home video and learn a dance routine. We made the video, but the judges screamed at Geo's cousin Aris who directed it, because they thought he was making fun of the hurricane in Florida. But he wasn't, it's just that someone had left a window open in the room during filming.
Then there was a scene where I had to explain the 5th Amendment to Nadia's stalker. Afterwards, our group had to do the dance routine, which I faked because I'd forgotten to learn it. I don't know why but the judges made us perform it on top of metal folding chairs. Picture like 20 people line dancing on top of two rows of folding chairs, while three judges watch from onstage. It was just a weird dream. The dream I had before it was one of my usual almost-got-laid dreams, but more interesting than usual because it had kinky dialogue. You take what you can get.
May 13, 2006
Random Stuff Chapter 475,692
Random Stuff Chapter 475,692
(By the way, isn't it annoying when I don't post shit for days, then toss up two in one day. I finally tossed up a 24 recap.)
1. This article on large mammals becoming extinct about 12,000 years ago was a bit amusing. It said that some researchers believe the cause of their extinction was over-hunting. I don't claim to know a lot about paleontology, and I'm not saying that humans aren't a bloodthirsty bunch, but those animals were around for quite awhile. So there had to have been a decent amount of them. How many humans came over from Siberia... like ten? Me and Geo can't even kill all the mice in our house, and we aren't running around in the snow chasing them with spears.
2. Here's a funny article, about a woman who beat her daughter's teacher up. The funny part isn't that she did it, but that she did it in front of the woman's seventh grade class. Wonder if those kids were traumatized or excited. When I was in 6th grade, my best friend's bus driver got into a fight with a student's mom. Helen laughed her ass off talking about how there were weaves and Lee Press-On Nails flying everywhere. She even showed me one of the Press-On Nails, it was hot pink. People get off on watching people brawl. That mpeg of the woman slapping the teacher was all over the internet last month.
3. I had a dream last night that I was part of some rebel family with a crapload of kids. The authorities raided our house for evidence of our rebel dealings and somehow found the secret doors into the Batcave. It was like a futuristic Von Trapp Family, but with a Batcave whose entrance was opened when you run on the treadmill and punch numbers on the electronic screen with the timer and heart rate thing. Also, I was holding a keychain with the rebel insignia on it (woo, way to be incognito) and I couldn't find a place to dispose of it so I ate it.
4. Which I guess is better than the dream I had a couple of weeks ago, that the Chinese mafia was trying to kill me, because I accidentally bumped into the son of their head honcho and he fell into a restaurant fountain. This happened while the entire restaurant was watching, because of some magnanimous gesture he was making concerning an old waitress and some gold rings.
5. It's been awhile since I posted any marital conversations:
Me: Want a cupcake before you go to sleep?
Geo: Yeah okay, toss me one and I'll eat it while I watch porn. Cupcakes and porn.
Me: Here you go.
Geo (taking a bite): It's...... good.
Me: You don't look very impressed.
Geo: No, I am.
Me: Don't you remember our marriage vows. You're supposed to love, honor, obey and be impressed by me.
Geo: I don't remember saying that.
Me: What do you remember saying?
Geo: "I, George, promise to pretend to love, honor and be impressed by my wife." Wait... what was it really?
Me: Well they don't say "obey" anymore. They used to make the women say it but not the men.
Geo: What?? Why don't you have to say it anymore? That sucks.
Me: It's this thing we like to call "equality."
Geo (in a high-pitched voice): Equality schmequality.
Me: I guess I could have said it, but it'd be a total lie.
Geo: Oh yeah, they say "cherish" now. I'm supposed to love, honor and cherish you.
Me: And obey.
Geo: Right.
By the way, the cupcake is an actual cupcake.
(By the way, isn't it annoying when I don't post shit for days, then toss up two in one day. I finally tossed up a 24 recap.)
1. This article on large mammals becoming extinct about 12,000 years ago was a bit amusing. It said that some researchers believe the cause of their extinction was over-hunting. I don't claim to know a lot about paleontology, and I'm not saying that humans aren't a bloodthirsty bunch, but those animals were around for quite awhile. So there had to have been a decent amount of them. How many humans came over from Siberia... like ten? Me and Geo can't even kill all the mice in our house, and we aren't running around in the snow chasing them with spears.
2. Here's a funny article, about a woman who beat her daughter's teacher up. The funny part isn't that she did it, but that she did it in front of the woman's seventh grade class. Wonder if those kids were traumatized or excited. When I was in 6th grade, my best friend's bus driver got into a fight with a student's mom. Helen laughed her ass off talking about how there were weaves and Lee Press-On Nails flying everywhere. She even showed me one of the Press-On Nails, it was hot pink. People get off on watching people brawl. That mpeg of the woman slapping the teacher was all over the internet last month.
3. I had a dream last night that I was part of some rebel family with a crapload of kids. The authorities raided our house for evidence of our rebel dealings and somehow found the secret doors into the Batcave. It was like a futuristic Von Trapp Family, but with a Batcave whose entrance was opened when you run on the treadmill and punch numbers on the electronic screen with the timer and heart rate thing. Also, I was holding a keychain with the rebel insignia on it (woo, way to be incognito) and I couldn't find a place to dispose of it so I ate it.
4. Which I guess is better than the dream I had a couple of weeks ago, that the Chinese mafia was trying to kill me, because I accidentally bumped into the son of their head honcho and he fell into a restaurant fountain. This happened while the entire restaurant was watching, because of some magnanimous gesture he was making concerning an old waitress and some gold rings.
5. It's been awhile since I posted any marital conversations:
Me: Want a cupcake before you go to sleep?
Geo: Yeah okay, toss me one and I'll eat it while I watch porn. Cupcakes and porn.
Me: Here you go.
Geo (taking a bite): It's...... good.
Me: You don't look very impressed.
Geo: No, I am.
Me: Don't you remember our marriage vows. You're supposed to love, honor, obey and be impressed by me.
Geo: I don't remember saying that.
Me: What do you remember saying?
Geo: "I, George, promise to pretend to love, honor and be impressed by my wife." Wait... what was it really?
Me: Well they don't say "obey" anymore. They used to make the women say it but not the men.
Geo: What?? Why don't you have to say it anymore? That sucks.
Me: It's this thing we like to call "equality."
Geo (in a high-pitched voice): Equality schmequality.
Me: I guess I could have said it, but it'd be a total lie.
Geo: Oh yeah, they say "cherish" now. I'm supposed to love, honor and cherish you.
Me: And obey.
Geo: Right.
By the way, the cupcake is an actual cupcake.
March 23, 2006
Badgers, Socks, Nudie Bills and Another Crazy Dream
Badgers, Socks, Nudie Bills and Another Crazy Dream
What was it they say about simple pleasures... (it's not pron but you need sound)
BadgerBadgerbadger.com
FootyFootyFooty
No really. I love badger badger badger badger. And muuuuushroom muuushroom. Mushrooms, not mushroom heads, though those rock too. And yes, I realize the shit is stupid and obnoxious but I'm still a fan. England England!! Incidentally, I wonder why there's a "scary snake" in the flash program. Isn't the natural enemy of the badger (besides man) the wolverine? As in the animal, not the X-Men.
There are two things that act as Kryptonite to me in everyday matters:
-Not having socks on.
-Not being able to put lotion on my hands after I wash and dry them.
I can't function properly if either of these things happens. Socklessness is not an issue if I'm rocking a pair of open-toed heels, but it is if I'm putzing around at home. The lotion Kryptonite is much stronger though. I can't even listen to a word anyone says if I'm running around hunting for lotion after washing my hands. NOW you guys know I'm a freak.
Hopefully this story about fake pron Euros being passed off as real money is true. Because that is just pretty damn hysterical. I'm going to try and get into Eurodisney one day with a thick wad of nudie bills.
I had yet another crazy dream a few nights ago. I dreamt I was in Vegas, waiting for my high school boyfriend Gerald to get out of some meeting. But he was taking too long so I went back to my hotel room and my dad was there watching TV. He said he needed to run an errand so we got into a taxi and pulled in front of this decrepit building. During the drive I realized we weren't in Vegas we were in Tokyo. We enter the building and it's a combination Asian marketplace and movie theatre. Like there are barrels of chicken feet and dried deer dicks everywhere and dead pigs hanging from various vendor stalls.
So we go upstairs and to the left and right are doors leading into huge, dirty co-ed bathrooms. Right in the middle is the door leading to the theatre, and the sign above says the movie is called... (I kid you not)... KUNG FU HUSTLE AND FLOW. Okay stop laughing. We settle down to watch and then as usual, my dream becomes the movie. The chick who's supposed to be me (who I will heretofore refer to as Dream Me) works for some high council, kind of like a Chinese Mafia fighting for good but a bit corrupt.
They send me to investigate some bad ass assassin and it turns out he is a she. I report to the council that she's a vigilante but definitely not a villain. They are relieved and decide to leave the assassin alone. Until I accidentally let slip that she's female. The council freaks out and sends out all our best assasins to kill her, ignoring me when I say we should instead recruit her. I go out to try and save her but get sidetracked (probably by food) and when I get there it's massive carnage.
Two of our assassins have severely wounded one tiger assassin and a 6-year-old child assassin protecting the vigilantress, but out of remorse they heal them with this green light emanating from their own bodies.
Then I woke up.
P.S. - Thanks for the "souvenir" from your trip Min. Duty Free rocks!! And more importantly, welcome back to the blogging world. I knew you couldn't stay away.
What was it they say about simple pleasures... (it's not pron but you need sound)
BadgerBadgerbadger.com
FootyFootyFooty
No really. I love badger badger badger badger. And muuuuushroom muuushroom. Mushrooms, not mushroom heads, though those rock too. And yes, I realize the shit is stupid and obnoxious but I'm still a fan. England England!! Incidentally, I wonder why there's a "scary snake" in the flash program. Isn't the natural enemy of the badger (besides man) the wolverine? As in the animal, not the X-Men.
There are two things that act as Kryptonite to me in everyday matters:
-Not having socks on.
-Not being able to put lotion on my hands after I wash and dry them.
I can't function properly if either of these things happens. Socklessness is not an issue if I'm rocking a pair of open-toed heels, but it is if I'm putzing around at home. The lotion Kryptonite is much stronger though. I can't even listen to a word anyone says if I'm running around hunting for lotion after washing my hands. NOW you guys know I'm a freak.
Hopefully this story about fake pron Euros being passed off as real money is true. Because that is just pretty damn hysterical. I'm going to try and get into Eurodisney one day with a thick wad of nudie bills.
I had yet another crazy dream a few nights ago. I dreamt I was in Vegas, waiting for my high school boyfriend Gerald to get out of some meeting. But he was taking too long so I went back to my hotel room and my dad was there watching TV. He said he needed to run an errand so we got into a taxi and pulled in front of this decrepit building. During the drive I realized we weren't in Vegas we were in Tokyo. We enter the building and it's a combination Asian marketplace and movie theatre. Like there are barrels of chicken feet and dried deer dicks everywhere and dead pigs hanging from various vendor stalls.
So we go upstairs and to the left and right are doors leading into huge, dirty co-ed bathrooms. Right in the middle is the door leading to the theatre, and the sign above says the movie is called... (I kid you not)... KUNG FU HUSTLE AND FLOW. Okay stop laughing. We settle down to watch and then as usual, my dream becomes the movie. The chick who's supposed to be me (who I will heretofore refer to as Dream Me) works for some high council, kind of like a Chinese Mafia fighting for good but a bit corrupt.
They send me to investigate some bad ass assassin and it turns out he is a she. I report to the council that she's a vigilante but definitely not a villain. They are relieved and decide to leave the assassin alone. Until I accidentally let slip that she's female. The council freaks out and sends out all our best assasins to kill her, ignoring me when I say we should instead recruit her. I go out to try and save her but get sidetracked (probably by food) and when I get there it's massive carnage.
Two of our assassins have severely wounded one tiger assassin and a 6-year-old child assassin protecting the vigilantress, but out of remorse they heal them with this green light emanating from their own bodies.
Then I woke up.
P.S. - Thanks for the "souvenir" from your trip Min. Duty Free rocks!! And more importantly, welcome back to the blogging world. I knew you couldn't stay away.
January 22, 2006
Weird Dreams Again
Weird Dreams Again
Why are my dreams never normal. I had to call Geo at work the other day:
Me: So this morning you left me forever to be with some hoochie in Guam and I moved in with Heath Ledger into a 3-story co-op in Manhattan across from Saks Fifth and for some reason your aunt and uncle and Manny and Janelle were all there too but they weren't talking to me and I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong until I realized they didn't know you were gone so they thought I was cheating on you with Heath Ledger and making him feel bad about it behind my back. Also, I couldn't leave the bedroom except to walk someone's dog.
Geo: Who is this?
Me: You're an ass.
Incidentally, despite my inadvertent liking for the movie Casanova, I don't find Heath Ledger attractive at all. But it's okay because my uncontrolled dream embargo on sex ensures that I don't wake up grossed out. It's better to be grossed out however, than scared shitless, which is what I was last night. Okay let me turn on the light real quick.
Anyway, I had some nightmare that I was back at my parent's house in Los Angeles and I went to visit some woman who lived down the street (one of those strangers that appear in your dreams). For some reason I stayed the night at her house, sleeping on the bed in between her and her eight-year-old daughter in a bedroom which resembles my parents' room. The mom picks that time to tell me that some ghost from the days of Regency England is tormenting her daughter. Then this fucking ghost appears and starts bitching at me and I'm too scared to run. But the woman can't see and so she keeps getting out of bed to pee and every time, this scary fucking spectre in a grey waistcoat is sticking his scary fucking face under the covers and whispering to me. It was very The Picture of Dorian Gray meets The Sixth Sense. But without Bruce Willis, who I wish had popped into the dream with some gasoline and a lighter and gone all "Yippee-kai-yay motherfucker" on the ghost.
Apparently he was mad because he had called dibs on the mom and thought I was moving in on his territory. I kept trying to point out that I was a married, heterosexual woman but he wouldn't relent. Eventually the woman's newborn started crying and when we went to go get him, my twins were there too for some reason so I scooped them up. The woman could see the ghost then and he had called his ghost posse to attack us, so all of us were running through the house trying to escape and as we ran through the front door, the fricken house fell into the ground behind us. Normally I can wake myself up when I'm frightened in dreams but this time I was just frozen into it for what felt like a really long time. It was probably about 5 minutes in real life though.
Why am I always INUNDATED WITH STUPID DREAMS.
Why are my dreams never normal. I had to call Geo at work the other day:
Me: So this morning you left me forever to be with some hoochie in Guam and I moved in with Heath Ledger into a 3-story co-op in Manhattan across from Saks Fifth and for some reason your aunt and uncle and Manny and Janelle were all there too but they weren't talking to me and I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong until I realized they didn't know you were gone so they thought I was cheating on you with Heath Ledger and making him feel bad about it behind my back. Also, I couldn't leave the bedroom except to walk someone's dog.
Geo: Who is this?
Me: You're an ass.
Incidentally, despite my inadvertent liking for the movie Casanova, I don't find Heath Ledger attractive at all. But it's okay because my uncontrolled dream embargo on sex ensures that I don't wake up grossed out. It's better to be grossed out however, than scared shitless, which is what I was last night. Okay let me turn on the light real quick.
Anyway, I had some nightmare that I was back at my parent's house in Los Angeles and I went to visit some woman who lived down the street (one of those strangers that appear in your dreams). For some reason I stayed the night at her house, sleeping on the bed in between her and her eight-year-old daughter in a bedroom which resembles my parents' room. The mom picks that time to tell me that some ghost from the days of Regency England is tormenting her daughter. Then this fucking ghost appears and starts bitching at me and I'm too scared to run. But the woman can't see and so she keeps getting out of bed to pee and every time, this scary fucking spectre in a grey waistcoat is sticking his scary fucking face under the covers and whispering to me. It was very The Picture of Dorian Gray meets The Sixth Sense. But without Bruce Willis, who I wish had popped into the dream with some gasoline and a lighter and gone all "Yippee-kai-yay motherfucker" on the ghost.
Apparently he was mad because he had called dibs on the mom and thought I was moving in on his territory. I kept trying to point out that I was a married, heterosexual woman but he wouldn't relent. Eventually the woman's newborn started crying and when we went to go get him, my twins were there too for some reason so I scooped them up. The woman could see the ghost then and he had called his ghost posse to attack us, so all of us were running through the house trying to escape and as we ran through the front door, the fricken house fell into the ground behind us. Normally I can wake myself up when I'm frightened in dreams but this time I was just frozen into it for what felt like a really long time. It was probably about 5 minutes in real life though.
Why am I always INUNDATED WITH STUPID DREAMS.
January 10, 2006
Random Stuff
Random Stuff
1. The games this past weekend were just painful to watch. But during the Redskins game I heard this gem: "Brunell to Portis and he gets laid.............. down uh, hard." Hee.
Geo: You know who my favorite QB is now? Tom Brady.
Tony: What???
Geo: Just kidding.
Tony: I was about to smack you.
Me: I was about to step over you to smack him.
2. I accidentally vacuumed up a baby mouse the other day. I was pushing around the little dustbuster when something got jammed so I turned it off. Then this little baby mouse came flying out and landed on its back. I probably could have vacuumed it back up again while it was flailing around in terror but I was too surprised. Sucks. Now that thing is going to grow up and spawn 10 more mice, which are going to grow up and spawn 100 more. You know how people always say there's no point in re-inventing the wheel? I think it'd be good to re-invent the mousetrap. None of mine work. The glue traps just sit there until one of us brushes up against it and the mice seem wise to the snap traps. Either that or I need to have dumber mice. My father-in-law catches like 8 with one trap.
3. I had a dream on Saturday night that my friend Ant was on some sitcom about lumberjacks. Half the show was set like when Mr. Rogers would send viewers off to the Land of Make Believe. Afterwards, me and Lani were sitting at a bar set at the edge of an ice rink. The drinks were served through a hole under the counter (too many glory hole jokes) and there were ice skating performances going on. Half the solo performances were by guys that did some sort of hip-hop ice-dancing thing. It may seem like a weird dream but it's the norm for me. My brain has a ball when I can't control it.
Oh and the dream which was kind of appended to that one consisted of me being at a choir performance without the proper sheet music. So I was at this music hall filled with thousands of people and I was frantically searching through the deserted rehearsal area for the proper sheet music. Meanwhile, one of my dream friends, some little 10-year-old Spanish kid decided he wanted to run the performance and have people sing with "more flava." It was like Honey meets the Ice Capades meets The Sound of Music meets where-the-fuck-is-my-sheet-music.
4. And the dream I had last night consisted of me and Geo trying to escape some rabid Hells Angels types. I was on a bright yellow Ducati and he was following me in our car, with the twins strapped into their carseats. At one point he jumped on another yellow Ducati that materialized out of nowhere while my aunt and uncle from Queens drove our car (flying over us). It was very bizarre, we rode indoors and outdoors, by rivers, in caves and at one point I'm pretty sure there were fairies around. Note to self, stop dropping acid at night.
5. It'd be cool to have a domain name but I'm not creative enough to think of one that fits.
6. I've been craving those "Turkish Delights" (Fruit Delights) that I decided to buy after watching The Chronicles of Narnia. My thrifty heart was pounding at the thought that since their popularity is seasonal, they might be on sale at Target. Nope. Couldn't find them at Walmart either. I even checked Marshall's, though their cute country foods section is like 1/10th of an aisle big. They're pretty gross but I really really want them. Not for 14 bucks a box though. I paid $4 for the first one.
7. Why do people always want entertainment to be realistic? I think realism is overrated. Who wants to watch a fucking movie about work performance evaluations, high energy bills, car theft and whether or not the new microwave can wait until the next paycheck. I would rather watch a movie where the good guys always stop the bomb in time, the home team wins, miracle cures are found in magic gardens and the lovebirds always sail happily off into the sunset.
"Never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line!!! MUHAHAHA--"
*plunk*
Wasn't that fun?
1. The games this past weekend were just painful to watch. But during the Redskins game I heard this gem: "Brunell to Portis and he gets laid.............. down uh, hard." Hee.
Geo: You know who my favorite QB is now? Tom Brady.
Tony: What???
Geo: Just kidding.
Tony: I was about to smack you.
Me: I was about to step over you to smack him.
2. I accidentally vacuumed up a baby mouse the other day. I was pushing around the little dustbuster when something got jammed so I turned it off. Then this little baby mouse came flying out and landed on its back. I probably could have vacuumed it back up again while it was flailing around in terror but I was too surprised. Sucks. Now that thing is going to grow up and spawn 10 more mice, which are going to grow up and spawn 100 more. You know how people always say there's no point in re-inventing the wheel? I think it'd be good to re-invent the mousetrap. None of mine work. The glue traps just sit there until one of us brushes up against it and the mice seem wise to the snap traps. Either that or I need to have dumber mice. My father-in-law catches like 8 with one trap.
3. I had a dream on Saturday night that my friend Ant was on some sitcom about lumberjacks. Half the show was set like when Mr. Rogers would send viewers off to the Land of Make Believe. Afterwards, me and Lani were sitting at a bar set at the edge of an ice rink. The drinks were served through a hole under the counter (too many glory hole jokes) and there were ice skating performances going on. Half the solo performances were by guys that did some sort of hip-hop ice-dancing thing. It may seem like a weird dream but it's the norm for me. My brain has a ball when I can't control it.
Oh and the dream which was kind of appended to that one consisted of me being at a choir performance without the proper sheet music. So I was at this music hall filled with thousands of people and I was frantically searching through the deserted rehearsal area for the proper sheet music. Meanwhile, one of my dream friends, some little 10-year-old Spanish kid decided he wanted to run the performance and have people sing with "more flava." It was like Honey meets the Ice Capades meets The Sound of Music meets where-the-fuck-is-my-sheet-music.
4. And the dream I had last night consisted of me and Geo trying to escape some rabid Hells Angels types. I was on a bright yellow Ducati and he was following me in our car, with the twins strapped into their carseats. At one point he jumped on another yellow Ducati that materialized out of nowhere while my aunt and uncle from Queens drove our car (flying over us). It was very bizarre, we rode indoors and outdoors, by rivers, in caves and at one point I'm pretty sure there were fairies around. Note to self, stop dropping acid at night.
5. It'd be cool to have a domain name but I'm not creative enough to think of one that fits.
6. I've been craving those "Turkish Delights" (Fruit Delights) that I decided to buy after watching The Chronicles of Narnia. My thrifty heart was pounding at the thought that since their popularity is seasonal, they might be on sale at Target. Nope. Couldn't find them at Walmart either. I even checked Marshall's, though their cute country foods section is like 1/10th of an aisle big. They're pretty gross but I really really want them. Not for 14 bucks a box though. I paid $4 for the first one.
7. Why do people always want entertainment to be realistic? I think realism is overrated. Who wants to watch a fucking movie about work performance evaluations, high energy bills, car theft and whether or not the new microwave can wait until the next paycheck. I would rather watch a movie where the good guys always stop the bomb in time, the home team wins, miracle cures are found in magic gardens and the lovebirds always sail happily off into the sunset.
"Never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line!!! MUHAHAHA--"
*plunk*
Wasn't that fun?
October 13, 2005
Random Thoughts Volume 983434546
Random Thoughts Volume 983434546
1. The Burger King commercial for their new omelette sandwich sounds like a gay porn preview. Coming soon to a gay moviehouse near you... "Say hello to the meat-normous sandwich... meat on top of meat on top of meat."
2. I know you think it's too late but it's not too late to fill out the Reader Poll! Remember, if you don't fill it out then... uh, you won't fill it out. *ominous music*
3. I have decided to start posting more, everyone else seems to be on hiatus so I want to be on anti-hiatus. Not certain when that will actually come to fruition though. I have several things at the moment that I'm procrastinating on (selling things on ebay, a few short stories, organizing the hall closet) so I hesitate to add to the list. Plus I'm going to do that whole National Write A Book In One Month You Lazy Fucks thing. I decided that the only way I will ever finish an actual manuscript is if I set some unlikely goal which would cause my pride to kick in and force me to labor. Of course, it would help if my 2-year-old twins got with the program as well. They won't suffer psychological damage if I neglect them for a month will they? "Here's your cereal, eat that now. Over there in the corner is some pasta, eat that in about 3 hours. Afterwards, have some grapes. And if you get thirsty, I put water in those bowls."
4. Last night before I went to sleep, I had the TV turned on to Frasier. I love that show, it has such great dialogue. So today, when I turned the TV back on, it was on channel 11 still and Jerry Springer was on. My daughters walked over and started yelling "uncle" and I looked at the show and a gay guy and a trannie were screaming at each other onstage. I don't know which of their uncles they thought it was. I got locked in for a few minutes, there was just no helping it. The gay guy was a skinny little Spanish kid who cracked me up because he kept ripping the trannie's wig off and throwing it into the crowd. Then the trannie would run backstage to fix it and come back out again. Daytime television sucks. Except the cartoons of course. My two favorite daytime cartoons are Jimmy Neutron and Rockzilla. I say "my" because I can't even try to play it off, my kids don't watch them at all.
5. I keep dreaming about being in Santa Cruz again. I'm never actually a college student, just living at the campus like it's a condo community. Last night I dreamt I was living in the dorms with a bunch of people and... vikings attacked. I SWEAR TO GOD. They came rowing over in their longboats and at one point I was swimming alongside them underwater, trying to remain undetected. Funny though how sometimes reality interrupts dreams. In the dream I walked into the dorm to play Hold 'Em and a bunch of people were watching football on TV. I asked which game it was and they said "Green Bay versus Baltimore." And I said "What? I thought they had a bye week. That's why we picked up Eli Manning for our fantasy team." Anyway, the vikings attacked us (actual vikings, not the Minnesota Vikings) and we had to run around and fight them. At one point I told them we had to call in The Terminator or something. Craziness. There was also a little foreplay (after the football but prior to the invasion) but no actual sex because as we all know, I don't get some in my dreams. My dreams suck.
6. I'm in a really good mood today. I think it's because it's fall, my favorite time of the year. Here comes Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas all in a row... WOOT!!
1. The Burger King commercial for their new omelette sandwich sounds like a gay porn preview. Coming soon to a gay moviehouse near you... "Say hello to the meat-normous sandwich... meat on top of meat on top of meat."
2. I know you think it's too late but it's not too late to fill out the Reader Poll! Remember, if you don't fill it out then... uh, you won't fill it out. *ominous music*
3. I have decided to start posting more, everyone else seems to be on hiatus so I want to be on anti-hiatus. Not certain when that will actually come to fruition though. I have several things at the moment that I'm procrastinating on (selling things on ebay, a few short stories, organizing the hall closet) so I hesitate to add to the list. Plus I'm going to do that whole National Write A Book In One Month You Lazy Fucks thing. I decided that the only way I will ever finish an actual manuscript is if I set some unlikely goal which would cause my pride to kick in and force me to labor. Of course, it would help if my 2-year-old twins got with the program as well. They won't suffer psychological damage if I neglect them for a month will they? "Here's your cereal, eat that now. Over there in the corner is some pasta, eat that in about 3 hours. Afterwards, have some grapes. And if you get thirsty, I put water in those bowls."
4. Last night before I went to sleep, I had the TV turned on to Frasier. I love that show, it has such great dialogue. So today, when I turned the TV back on, it was on channel 11 still and Jerry Springer was on. My daughters walked over and started yelling "uncle" and I looked at the show and a gay guy and a trannie were screaming at each other onstage. I don't know which of their uncles they thought it was. I got locked in for a few minutes, there was just no helping it. The gay guy was a skinny little Spanish kid who cracked me up because he kept ripping the trannie's wig off and throwing it into the crowd. Then the trannie would run backstage to fix it and come back out again. Daytime television sucks. Except the cartoons of course. My two favorite daytime cartoons are Jimmy Neutron and Rockzilla. I say "my" because I can't even try to play it off, my kids don't watch them at all.
5. I keep dreaming about being in Santa Cruz again. I'm never actually a college student, just living at the campus like it's a condo community. Last night I dreamt I was living in the dorms with a bunch of people and... vikings attacked. I SWEAR TO GOD. They came rowing over in their longboats and at one point I was swimming alongside them underwater, trying to remain undetected. Funny though how sometimes reality interrupts dreams. In the dream I walked into the dorm to play Hold 'Em and a bunch of people were watching football on TV. I asked which game it was and they said "Green Bay versus Baltimore." And I said "What? I thought they had a bye week. That's why we picked up Eli Manning for our fantasy team." Anyway, the vikings attacked us (actual vikings, not the Minnesota Vikings) and we had to run around and fight them. At one point I told them we had to call in The Terminator or something. Craziness. There was also a little foreplay (after the football but prior to the invasion) but no actual sex because as we all know, I don't get some in my dreams. My dreams suck.
6. I'm in a really good mood today. I think it's because it's fall, my favorite time of the year. Here comes Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas all in a row... WOOT!!
August 25, 2005
Out of Juice
Out of Juice
Seriously, I'm out of juice. Let me know what you guys want to see and I'll write it. I draw the line at Harry Potter fan fic p0rn though. There will be no "Harry thrust his magic flesh wand into Hermione's moist portal of womanly magic." HAHAHAHAHA Oh my God is that fucking funny or what. I am cracking myself up. I think it's the Benadryl. I couldn't find the Claritin because the bottle is about the size of my fricken thumb. So I took Benadryl and I feel higher than a kite. One in the air you know, not one all wrapped up in yarn in the garage. Hey, some people are bad with analogies. Okay not really, I just wanted to be able to use the word yarn and it's kind of hard to use in everyday conversation.
Last night I had a dream that I was in a dorm room with some guy Kevin I knew way back, and I had already decided to sleep with him because it had been awhile (you all know Dream Me isn't exactly a stickler for morality.) I'm waving him in but he's looking up at the sky instead of at the tarmac so he completely misses all the signals. Then he sticks his head out the window and spews like he was channeling Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Wasn't too good for Dream Me's ego, but she'll bounce back that little ho.
I've apparently found a cure for writer's block and it's called Benadryl.
The other day I was drowning one of those disgusting brown creepy crawly things that look like the bug in The Matrix that they pulled out of Neo's belly button. It just happened to be in the dogs' water bowl so I just kept the faucet running. But it took so damn long to die, I started feeling guilty about it. So in the end I just let it go. Stupid. I'm going to regret my moment of insect compassion if one of those fuckers crawls into my bed at night. And you know it will be the SAME EXACT ONE. Give a mouse a cookie and it'll want a glass of milk. Or a 3-hour blowjob.
I got an e-mail today from some random person asking why I never do the Half-Nekkid Thursdays. It's not that I'm above it, it's just that after all the pics I throw up on here, the only things left to show half-nekkid are things I'm not willing to post on a blog. People have already seen my arms, legs, butt, elbows, shoulders, feet, neck blah blah blah. Additional pics would just be redundant and I'm not willing to turn this place into my own personal prawn site, despite the machinations of those damn British search engines.
Speaking of pron aka prawn and my writing, I am also drawing the line at Care Bear fan fic pron. None of that "And then Grumpy Bear began to stroke Cheer Bear's mound of Venus Bear, while suckling on her furry, raspberry-colored nipples." HAHAHAHAHA Oh crap I think the only person this is cracking up is me. Damn Benadryl.
Good night Seattle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Seriously, I'm out of juice. Let me know what you guys want to see and I'll write it. I draw the line at Harry Potter fan fic p0rn though. There will be no "Harry thrust his magic flesh wand into Hermione's moist portal of womanly magic." HAHAHAHAHA Oh my God is that fucking funny or what. I am cracking myself up. I think it's the Benadryl. I couldn't find the Claritin because the bottle is about the size of my fricken thumb. So I took Benadryl and I feel higher than a kite. One in the air you know, not one all wrapped up in yarn in the garage. Hey, some people are bad with analogies. Okay not really, I just wanted to be able to use the word yarn and it's kind of hard to use in everyday conversation.
Last night I had a dream that I was in a dorm room with some guy Kevin I knew way back, and I had already decided to sleep with him because it had been awhile (you all know Dream Me isn't exactly a stickler for morality.) I'm waving him in but he's looking up at the sky instead of at the tarmac so he completely misses all the signals. Then he sticks his head out the window and spews like he was channeling Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Wasn't too good for Dream Me's ego, but she'll bounce back that little ho.
I've apparently found a cure for writer's block and it's called Benadryl.
The other day I was drowning one of those disgusting brown creepy crawly things that look like the bug in The Matrix that they pulled out of Neo's belly button. It just happened to be in the dogs' water bowl so I just kept the faucet running. But it took so damn long to die, I started feeling guilty about it. So in the end I just let it go. Stupid. I'm going to regret my moment of insect compassion if one of those fuckers crawls into my bed at night. And you know it will be the SAME EXACT ONE. Give a mouse a cookie and it'll want a glass of milk. Or a 3-hour blowjob.
I got an e-mail today from some random person asking why I never do the Half-Nekkid Thursdays. It's not that I'm above it, it's just that after all the pics I throw up on here, the only things left to show half-nekkid are things I'm not willing to post on a blog. People have already seen my arms, legs, butt, elbows, shoulders, feet, neck blah blah blah. Additional pics would just be redundant and I'm not willing to turn this place into my own personal prawn site, despite the machinations of those damn British search engines.
Speaking of pron aka prawn and my writing, I am also drawing the line at Care Bear fan fic pron. None of that "And then Grumpy Bear began to stroke Cheer Bear's mound of Venus Bear, while suckling on her furry, raspberry-colored nipples." HAHAHAHAHA Oh crap I think the only person this is cracking up is me. Damn Benadryl.
Good night Seattle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
August 2, 2005
The Dream Wars
The Dream Wars
Geo and I are battling in our sleep.
Two weeks ago, I crawled into bed after a long night of Mario Tennising and kissed him goodnight. His response was to say "Get off me." I wasn't trying to get some or anything but still, the rejection was a bit harsh. And amusing, considering he was still pretty much asleep. I figured he must have had a dream of some sort in which I did something bad. So naturally, I started messing with him.
Me: Why are you so cranky?
Geo: You just cheated on me.
Me: Really, with who?
Geo: Tony.
Me: Oh come on, that doesn't count.
Geo: Yeah it does.
Me: No it doesn't count if you slept with the person before.
Geo: Yeah it does!
Me: So when did this happen?
Geo: While I was at work.
Me: How did you find out?
Geo: You told me.
Me: He TOLD you?? Dammit I knew that guy couldn't keep his mouth shut.
Geo: No, YOU told me.
Me: What? Now why the hell would I do something as stupid as that?
Geo: I don't know.
Me: So is Tony's lunch hour all of a sudden 4 hours long, because his work is like an hour and a half from here.
Geo: He took the day off.
Me: He took the day off to bang me??? Woo-hoo!! I rock!!
Geo: Shut up. I hate you.
Me: Sorry.
I spent the rest of the night hugging him just to annoy him. That morning he sat up and said "You broke my heart." And I actually felt bad for a moment, despite the fact that it was Dream Me that had the indiscretion, that little ho.
Yesterday, Dream Geo got back at me twofold. It all started out innocently enough. Those are the worst dreams, the ones that lull you into thinking nothing bad is going to happen. The dream first started out with me and Donald Trump riding around Manhattan in one of those Filipino tricycle things. I was his friend or something and he was going from store to store buying shit. The boxes were piling up so I asked if we could call his limo driver (who turned out to be Aud's brother Andrew) but he said no. Later on I was wandering the New York City Public Library but all the books were gone and instead there were racks of clothing for sale and a whole bunch of autistic children dancing in the aisle. We climbed into the elevator and it started making a screeching sound and the autistic kids went crazy and I had to calm then down. Then I was back in some condo and the woman who was supposed to be watching them was yelling at Donald Trump for dumping them at the library and leaving.
Suddenly the dream changed and I was in some room with a small 20-foot pool in it. Even though it was indoor, I was laying out because there were tanning lamps or something and a hippie-looking DJ in the corner. Some 16-year-old kid kept pestering me and when I went to the DJ to discuss opera of all things, he tried to cockblock. Eventually to get away from him I jumped into the pool, but there were like 15 people in there already and I had to climb out because I kept wondering about the water to urine ratio of the pool.
Then I was sitting at some banquet for Geo's work that was magically in the same small room. Some short, dumpy Spanish chick was sitting next to me and she kept waving around this company newsletter. I got the feeling she was doing it on purpose so I read the top lines. It read something to the effect of Spanish Girl (forgot her name) "convinced Geo to buy his wife a Brooks CD from a concert they went to and pretend he bought her the love song CD because he thought of her" or something like that. I read it, knew it'd meant Geo had fucked around and ran out into the hall and punched him. Our friend Allan pulled me off him, so I just kept yelling and Geo did this thing he does in real life when I get too snarky during arguments, he put his finger up and said "Chill. You're taking it too far" and left.
The dream got really scary there because Geo got hurt (no, I didn't beat his ass with a bat) and it felt so damn real that I woke myself up. Like I forced myself to wake up, chanting "This is just a dream" in my head. But I didn't wake up mad, I woke up scared. And then I looked over to make sure he was okay, and then got cranky he cheated on me with some dumpy Spanish girl. With acne.
They say that when you dream of your spouse cheating on you it's not that you're worried that they would bang someone else, but that you feel they put something ahead of your needs, i.e. their job or hobby or the NBA on TNT. But we don't do that, so I think we just had those dreams because we're dorks.
Anyway, he started it with his dream. Tonight I'm going to dream that he ran over my dog. I think we need to get out more, we hang out at home so much we're inventing drama. Today I got an e-mail from Geo that was signed "Love, your husband who doesn't cheat on you in real life but does in your dreams." Actually it was just two dreams, this one and one I had when I was pregnant, in which he hooked up with the daughter of a Columbian drug lord. Ooooh I woke up mad after that one! Pregnancy hormones. Anything can set you off when you're pregnant. You get mad at mayonnaise and the doorbell regularly.
Geo and I are battling in our sleep.
Two weeks ago, I crawled into bed after a long night of Mario Tennising and kissed him goodnight. His response was to say "Get off me." I wasn't trying to get some or anything but still, the rejection was a bit harsh. And amusing, considering he was still pretty much asleep. I figured he must have had a dream of some sort in which I did something bad. So naturally, I started messing with him.
Me: Why are you so cranky?
Geo: You just cheated on me.
Me: Really, with who?
Geo: Tony.
Me: Oh come on, that doesn't count.
Geo: Yeah it does.
Me: No it doesn't count if you slept with the person before.
Geo: Yeah it does!
Me: So when did this happen?
Geo: While I was at work.
Me: How did you find out?
Geo: You told me.
Me: He TOLD you?? Dammit I knew that guy couldn't keep his mouth shut.
Geo: No, YOU told me.
Me: What? Now why the hell would I do something as stupid as that?
Geo: I don't know.
Me: So is Tony's lunch hour all of a sudden 4 hours long, because his work is like an hour and a half from here.
Geo: He took the day off.
Me: He took the day off to bang me??? Woo-hoo!! I rock!!
Geo: Shut up. I hate you.
Me: Sorry.
I spent the rest of the night hugging him just to annoy him. That morning he sat up and said "You broke my heart." And I actually felt bad for a moment, despite the fact that it was Dream Me that had the indiscretion, that little ho.
Yesterday, Dream Geo got back at me twofold. It all started out innocently enough. Those are the worst dreams, the ones that lull you into thinking nothing bad is going to happen. The dream first started out with me and Donald Trump riding around Manhattan in one of those Filipino tricycle things. I was his friend or something and he was going from store to store buying shit. The boxes were piling up so I asked if we could call his limo driver (who turned out to be Aud's brother Andrew) but he said no. Later on I was wandering the New York City Public Library but all the books were gone and instead there were racks of clothing for sale and a whole bunch of autistic children dancing in the aisle. We climbed into the elevator and it started making a screeching sound and the autistic kids went crazy and I had to calm then down. Then I was back in some condo and the woman who was supposed to be watching them was yelling at Donald Trump for dumping them at the library and leaving.
Suddenly the dream changed and I was in some room with a small 20-foot pool in it. Even though it was indoor, I was laying out because there were tanning lamps or something and a hippie-looking DJ in the corner. Some 16-year-old kid kept pestering me and when I went to the DJ to discuss opera of all things, he tried to cockblock. Eventually to get away from him I jumped into the pool, but there were like 15 people in there already and I had to climb out because I kept wondering about the water to urine ratio of the pool.
Then I was sitting at some banquet for Geo's work that was magically in the same small room. Some short, dumpy Spanish chick was sitting next to me and she kept waving around this company newsletter. I got the feeling she was doing it on purpose so I read the top lines. It read something to the effect of Spanish Girl (forgot her name) "convinced Geo to buy his wife a Brooks CD from a concert they went to and pretend he bought her the love song CD because he thought of her" or something like that. I read it, knew it'd meant Geo had fucked around and ran out into the hall and punched him. Our friend Allan pulled me off him, so I just kept yelling and Geo did this thing he does in real life when I get too snarky during arguments, he put his finger up and said "Chill. You're taking it too far" and left.
The dream got really scary there because Geo got hurt (no, I didn't beat his ass with a bat) and it felt so damn real that I woke myself up. Like I forced myself to wake up, chanting "This is just a dream" in my head. But I didn't wake up mad, I woke up scared. And then I looked over to make sure he was okay, and then got cranky he cheated on me with some dumpy Spanish girl. With acne.
They say that when you dream of your spouse cheating on you it's not that you're worried that they would bang someone else, but that you feel they put something ahead of your needs, i.e. their job or hobby or the NBA on TNT. But we don't do that, so I think we just had those dreams because we're dorks.
Anyway, he started it with his dream. Tonight I'm going to dream that he ran over my dog. I think we need to get out more, we hang out at home so much we're inventing drama. Today I got an e-mail from Geo that was signed "Love, your husband who doesn't cheat on you in real life but does in your dreams." Actually it was just two dreams, this one and one I had when I was pregnant, in which he hooked up with the daughter of a Columbian drug lord. Ooooh I woke up mad after that one! Pregnancy hormones. Anything can set you off when you're pregnant. You get mad at mayonnaise and the doorbell regularly.
July 17, 2005
Score
Score
(Back up, this post magically turned into a draft somehow. The poll is acting weird so I had to replace it.)
So I finally got laid in a dream last night. I woke up feeling inordinately proud of myself. For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, you'll know this is a rare occurrence. For some reason, in the past few years or so, every time I'm about to get some in a dream I wake up literally a few seconds before things get interesting. Geo and I have a running joke that he has the remote control to my dreams.
Me: You snoozed last night with the remote. I cheated on you while we were sleeping.
Geo: With who?
Me: Julian McMahon.
Geo: That's okay, I got some first. He can have sloppy seconds.
I'm just happy it was someone decent. Normally when I have sex in my dreams it's with some random real life person I don't even find attractive. Sometimes the experience promises to be so nauseating that my mind screams "Wake up, he's taking off his pants!! Run!!!!!!" But last night was highly pleasant. So pleasant in fact, that when Geo's alarm came on I turned it off because it was interfering with my dream. Luckily it was Sunday. I don't know how Geo would have explained being late to his boss. "Sorry sir, my wife turned off the alarm because she was having a really great sex dream about that guy from Nip/Tuck."
I wonder if people read the marital conversations Geo and I regularly have and think we're the two weirdest people ever to be married to each other.
My Dog Update
Yes, another dog story. So like ten minutes ago Geo yells for me, and I go outside and he says "Bring in the dog." I assumed he was just trying to spray him with the hose to encourage him into the house. So I open the door and my canine child comes scampering by. He's already inside the house and halfway up the steps when I realize he's got what looks like a dead rat in his mouth. I'm like "Eeew eew he's got a dead rat in his mouth!!!!!" Geo comes running and yells at me "Why didn't you stop him" to which I start laughing hysterically because there's NO WAY IN HELL I'm going to try and grab our dog while he's got a dead rat in his mouth. He might brush that thing against me or something. I'm not that girly about shit like this but even I draw the line at dead rats.
So Geo goes into the kitchen, and locks him in his crate so he can remove the dead rat. Which is really a baby possum playing dead. We go back outside and I'm like "You didn't really think I was going to try and grab him while he's running around with a dead rat in his mouth did you" and I start laughing hysterically all over again. Geo sees the humor in that and can't help but smile. But again, eeew.
Fucking crappy poll whose script is messing up my page Take 12:
(Back up, this post magically turned into a draft somehow. The poll is acting weird so I had to replace it.)
So I finally got laid in a dream last night. I woke up feeling inordinately proud of myself. For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, you'll know this is a rare occurrence. For some reason, in the past few years or so, every time I'm about to get some in a dream I wake up literally a few seconds before things get interesting. Geo and I have a running joke that he has the remote control to my dreams.
Me: You snoozed last night with the remote. I cheated on you while we were sleeping.
Geo: With who?
Me: Julian McMahon.
Geo: That's okay, I got some first. He can have sloppy seconds.
I'm just happy it was someone decent. Normally when I have sex in my dreams it's with some random real life person I don't even find attractive. Sometimes the experience promises to be so nauseating that my mind screams "Wake up, he's taking off his pants!! Run!!!!!!" But last night was highly pleasant. So pleasant in fact, that when Geo's alarm came on I turned it off because it was interfering with my dream. Luckily it was Sunday. I don't know how Geo would have explained being late to his boss. "Sorry sir, my wife turned off the alarm because she was having a really great sex dream about that guy from Nip/Tuck."
I wonder if people read the marital conversations Geo and I regularly have and think we're the two weirdest people ever to be married to each other.
My Dog Update
Yes, another dog story. So like ten minutes ago Geo yells for me, and I go outside and he says "Bring in the dog." I assumed he was just trying to spray him with the hose to encourage him into the house. So I open the door and my canine child comes scampering by. He's already inside the house and halfway up the steps when I realize he's got what looks like a dead rat in his mouth. I'm like "Eeew eew he's got a dead rat in his mouth!!!!!" Geo comes running and yells at me "Why didn't you stop him" to which I start laughing hysterically because there's NO WAY IN HELL I'm going to try and grab our dog while he's got a dead rat in his mouth. He might brush that thing against me or something. I'm not that girly about shit like this but even I draw the line at dead rats.
So Geo goes into the kitchen, and locks him in his crate so he can remove the dead rat. Which is really a baby possum playing dead. We go back outside and I'm like "You didn't really think I was going to try and grab him while he's running around with a dead rat in his mouth did you" and I start laughing hysterically all over again. Geo sees the humor in that and can't help but smile. But again, eeew.
Fucking crappy poll whose script is messing up my page Take 12:
June 21, 2005
Thoughts
Thoughts
1. So the jurors in the Michael Jackson trial spoke out and admitted they had a distinct distaste for the mother of the accusor. Yeah, she came off as a scumbag and all but I hope that personal dislike didn't sway their decision, even though I realize it must have. One of the jurors even said she thought "Don't you point your finger at me woman" while the mother was testifying. Nice and unbiased. Then again, juries are comprised of humans and despite what people state when the judge is questioning them, everyone is prone to personal biases. Even when the defendant is so obviously guilty. I think with Michael, fame combined with bad genetics has made him into a sociopath.
That being said, click on this link and go watch Triumph the Insult Comic Dog making fun of those psychos who hung out at the trial and chanted shit.
2. Everyone is prone to a little pettiness now and again right? My occasional pettiness occurs when a friend of mine has a new girlfriend or boyfriend, and I liked the old one a lot. Naturally there are exceptions to this rule, but sometimes one of my friends or relatives gets someone new in their life and they ask me what do I think and my first inclination is to say "I can't believe you dumped so and so for this dirty little fucking whore of a skankbag." I stamp down the urge of course, because what's important is the happiness of the person I care about. The reason I say it's pettiness is because sometimes I haven't even met them and already I judge because let's face it... if the girl has a naked photograph of herself on Friendster then she's a skank. Or if the guy listed as his occupation "playa" and he's not on a pro sports team... loser. Some things are just fact. But yes, I realize it's wrong. And in case some of you people are reading this and wondering "Is she talking about me?" Probably not if I've met you already, because then you'd KNOW it if I didn't like you.
3. At McDonald's last weekend, we saw the guy whose friends stole Mike's car that we borrowed. His girlfriend was screaming to her kids that she wanted to get out of Jersey City. I was thinking she'd better find alternate company then, or the only reason she'd ever get out of Jersey City is because Hudson County Correctional Facility is located in Kearny.
4. I am still so addicted to that confessions site. Even the racist ones make me laugh "I hate all Asian people and don't care that I'm racist and wish they would all go back to their countries, except the ones that are hot." Hahahaha oh man, yes even that one made me laugh out loud. I pictured all of us Asian people getting rounded up by the Hotness Police and then sorted and deported. Yeah I know it's wrong that I laughed at that one. But fuck it's funny. My favorites are the quirky ones. Like "I can't leave food on my plate or I get really angry." HAHAHA. Damn, did I write that one. Or... "I used to be a busboy in a restaurant. When a really hot chick left and I went to clear the table, I'd put her fork in my pocket. Then, when I got back to the kitchen, I'd lick it." HAHAHA!!!!!!!
5. I had a dream the other night that I was working for the government, which I assume is the only time you'll ever see me walking around in a navy blue suit. George W. Bush and I were in this airport terminal-type thing attached to the building we worked in. We were waiting for a Serbian swimmer who was going to be arrested by his country, because maps were banned in Serbia and he swam an Olympic race in which the pool was a flat waterslide (like The Log Ride at Magic Mountain) in the shape of Serbia. So he was going to be arrested on our soil by Serbian officials. The rest of the Serbian swim team walked by and I was advising the president that he can't get involved in their dispute because it's a foreign government thing and he has to respect their esoteric rules.
So W disappears. I try to find him but I can't, so I'm walking around in this maze of cubicles and copy rooms. I hang out in one of the copy rooms chit-chatting with my cousin for a little too long, then remember an important meeting I was supposed to be at. I consider telling them I stepped out of the building to get food but my key card wouldn't show me leaving and re-entering. As I head up to the top floor where the meeting is, I stop by these glass lockers to pick something up. Then I decide to clean my locker for some reason. Then I woke up. I'd try to interpret it but the dream interpretation book Kwame gave me is all the way at the other end of the house. So I'll just wallow in my ignorance.
1. So the jurors in the Michael Jackson trial spoke out and admitted they had a distinct distaste for the mother of the accusor. Yeah, she came off as a scumbag and all but I hope that personal dislike didn't sway their decision, even though I realize it must have. One of the jurors even said she thought "Don't you point your finger at me woman" while the mother was testifying. Nice and unbiased. Then again, juries are comprised of humans and despite what people state when the judge is questioning them, everyone is prone to personal biases. Even when the defendant is so obviously guilty. I think with Michael, fame combined with bad genetics has made him into a sociopath.
That being said, click on this link and go watch Triumph the Insult Comic Dog making fun of those psychos who hung out at the trial and chanted shit.
2. Everyone is prone to a little pettiness now and again right? My occasional pettiness occurs when a friend of mine has a new girlfriend or boyfriend, and I liked the old one a lot. Naturally there are exceptions to this rule, but sometimes one of my friends or relatives gets someone new in their life and they ask me what do I think and my first inclination is to say "I can't believe you dumped so and so for this dirty little fucking whore of a skankbag." I stamp down the urge of course, because what's important is the happiness of the person I care about. The reason I say it's pettiness is because sometimes I haven't even met them and already I judge because let's face it... if the girl has a naked photograph of herself on Friendster then she's a skank. Or if the guy listed as his occupation "playa" and he's not on a pro sports team... loser. Some things are just fact. But yes, I realize it's wrong. And in case some of you people are reading this and wondering "Is she talking about me?" Probably not if I've met you already, because then you'd KNOW it if I didn't like you.
3. At McDonald's last weekend, we saw the guy whose friends stole Mike's car that we borrowed. His girlfriend was screaming to her kids that she wanted to get out of Jersey City. I was thinking she'd better find alternate company then, or the only reason she'd ever get out of Jersey City is because Hudson County Correctional Facility is located in Kearny.
4. I am still so addicted to that confessions site. Even the racist ones make me laugh "I hate all Asian people and don't care that I'm racist and wish they would all go back to their countries, except the ones that are hot." Hahahaha oh man, yes even that one made me laugh out loud. I pictured all of us Asian people getting rounded up by the Hotness Police and then sorted and deported. Yeah I know it's wrong that I laughed at that one. But fuck it's funny. My favorites are the quirky ones. Like "I can't leave food on my plate or I get really angry." HAHAHA. Damn, did I write that one. Or... "I used to be a busboy in a restaurant. When a really hot chick left and I went to clear the table, I'd put her fork in my pocket. Then, when I got back to the kitchen, I'd lick it." HAHAHA!!!!!!!
5. I had a dream the other night that I was working for the government, which I assume is the only time you'll ever see me walking around in a navy blue suit. George W. Bush and I were in this airport terminal-type thing attached to the building we worked in. We were waiting for a Serbian swimmer who was going to be arrested by his country, because maps were banned in Serbia and he swam an Olympic race in which the pool was a flat waterslide (like The Log Ride at Magic Mountain) in the shape of Serbia. So he was going to be arrested on our soil by Serbian officials. The rest of the Serbian swim team walked by and I was advising the president that he can't get involved in their dispute because it's a foreign government thing and he has to respect their esoteric rules.
So W disappears. I try to find him but I can't, so I'm walking around in this maze of cubicles and copy rooms. I hang out in one of the copy rooms chit-chatting with my cousin for a little too long, then remember an important meeting I was supposed to be at. I consider telling them I stepped out of the building to get food but my key card wouldn't show me leaving and re-entering. As I head up to the top floor where the meeting is, I stop by these glass lockers to pick something up. Then I decide to clean my locker for some reason. Then I woke up. I'd try to interpret it but the dream interpretation book Kwame gave me is all the way at the other end of the house. So I'll just wallow in my ignorance.
June 7, 2005
Ummm... Yeah.
Ummm... Yeah.
1. I love my husband, love him so very much. Because yesterday he brought me home the C3PO and the hard-to-find Darth Vader (which turns into Anakin Skywalker) Burger King toys. Today, he brought home Princess Leia and Padme Amidala, then took us on a field trip to pick up Emperor Palpatine and Mace Windu. True to his word, he's been eating lunch every day at Burger King. By the end of the next week or so he will never want to eat it ever again, but my collection will be complete. WOOT!
2. Okay who thought of "Woot?" Because it just makes me laugh. WOOT! How funny is that to say? I mean I assume it's funny to say, I've never actually said it. In fact, number one was the first time I've ever even typed it. But I laughed out loud as I did so.
3. You know what's one thing we Americans take for granted (besides food, water and pretty much everything else we have)? Air-conditioning. Seriously though. I live in the ghetto but every house you see has at least two air-conditioners. Then again, there's also an astonishing amount of DirecTV considering it's the ghetto. But like Azrael says in Dogma... "No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater than central air." I don't have central air but regular air-conditioning works pretty damn well too. Especially these last few days since it's been HOT AS BALLS.
4. I was thumbing through some fitness magazine in the checkout line at BJ's the other day, and came across an article that outlined a "new diet." The diet pretty much consisted of cutting out red meat, dairy, bread, rice, pasta, sweets, salty foods, fried foods, egg yolks, carrots, corn, potatoes, junk food and anything that may have fat in it. I'm not at all certain that can be considered a "new" diet. In fact, I'm pretty sure that people all throughout history and all over the world have tried it. Except they called it "starving to death."
5. Last night I had a dream that me, Geo, Tony and Abel all lived with a crapload of people in a warehouse filled with bunk beds. The bunkbeds were in neat rows with green force fields separating them. I saw Geo, but couldn't hang out with him so I just sat on a top bunk and ate popcorn. Later Abel and I were in the back of Tony's car as he raced down a hill. I was freaking out because it was raining and he was speeding, but he said it was necessary because he needed to hook up with some broad. He then parked on another hilll and joined a parade that appeared out of nowhere. Abel and I just waited there, speculating on how long it would take Tony to nail this chick so we could be on our way. All of a sudden the e-brake slipped and the car starts rolling down the hill. I jumped into the driver's seat and stepped on the brakes but they didn't work. Eventually the car slid safely to a stop at the bottom. The next moment, the four of us (Geo re-appeared magically) were outside of this time-machine looking thing with naked women inside of it. Then I woke up.
6. Some rather lame confessing:
-Every so often, especially when I'm playing online poker, I find myself typing "lol" and it annoys me every time. I just want to smack people like me.
-Late at night, I find myself watching the weirdest things. Like the "World Championship of Darts." Yes, they have a world championship for darts. They seem to have a world championship for everything these days, darts, poker, hot-dog-eating, sex. At least I think there's a world championship for sex. I hope those crazy bitches who fuck like 800 men in 12 hours are getting something more than an inability to walk for their um, triumphs. Like a trophy perhaps and lifetime supply of Cheez-Whiz.
-I have gadget envy. Let's face it, I don't need an IPod or a PSP or a Sidekick. So I'm not going to buy them and I don't need Geo or anyone to get me them for any occasion. But damn they look fun as hell to play around with.
7. If I were a guy I'd hook up with a redhead. I have a thing for red hair, but only on women really. I like that deep, fake red like in the ads for John Frieda's "Radiant Red" product line.
8. I rarely do Blogthings but I was interested in what my personal outcome would be for this particular one:
1. I love my husband, love him so very much. Because yesterday he brought me home the C3PO and the hard-to-find Darth Vader (which turns into Anakin Skywalker) Burger King toys. Today, he brought home Princess Leia and Padme Amidala, then took us on a field trip to pick up Emperor Palpatine and Mace Windu. True to his word, he's been eating lunch every day at Burger King. By the end of the next week or so he will never want to eat it ever again, but my collection will be complete. WOOT!
2. Okay who thought of "Woot?" Because it just makes me laugh. WOOT! How funny is that to say? I mean I assume it's funny to say, I've never actually said it. In fact, number one was the first time I've ever even typed it. But I laughed out loud as I did so.
3. You know what's one thing we Americans take for granted (besides food, water and pretty much everything else we have)? Air-conditioning. Seriously though. I live in the ghetto but every house you see has at least two air-conditioners. Then again, there's also an astonishing amount of DirecTV considering it's the ghetto. But like Azrael says in Dogma... "No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater than central air." I don't have central air but regular air-conditioning works pretty damn well too. Especially these last few days since it's been HOT AS BALLS.
4. I was thumbing through some fitness magazine in the checkout line at BJ's the other day, and came across an article that outlined a "new diet." The diet pretty much consisted of cutting out red meat, dairy, bread, rice, pasta, sweets, salty foods, fried foods, egg yolks, carrots, corn, potatoes, junk food and anything that may have fat in it. I'm not at all certain that can be considered a "new" diet. In fact, I'm pretty sure that people all throughout history and all over the world have tried it. Except they called it "starving to death."
5. Last night I had a dream that me, Geo, Tony and Abel all lived with a crapload of people in a warehouse filled with bunk beds. The bunkbeds were in neat rows with green force fields separating them. I saw Geo, but couldn't hang out with him so I just sat on a top bunk and ate popcorn. Later Abel and I were in the back of Tony's car as he raced down a hill. I was freaking out because it was raining and he was speeding, but he said it was necessary because he needed to hook up with some broad. He then parked on another hilll and joined a parade that appeared out of nowhere. Abel and I just waited there, speculating on how long it would take Tony to nail this chick so we could be on our way. All of a sudden the e-brake slipped and the car starts rolling down the hill. I jumped into the driver's seat and stepped on the brakes but they didn't work. Eventually the car slid safely to a stop at the bottom. The next moment, the four of us (Geo re-appeared magically) were outside of this time-machine looking thing with naked women inside of it. Then I woke up.
6. Some rather lame confessing:
-Every so often, especially when I'm playing online poker, I find myself typing "lol" and it annoys me every time. I just want to smack people like me.
-Late at night, I find myself watching the weirdest things. Like the "World Championship of Darts." Yes, they have a world championship for darts. They seem to have a world championship for everything these days, darts, poker, hot-dog-eating, sex. At least I think there's a world championship for sex. I hope those crazy bitches who fuck like 800 men in 12 hours are getting something more than an inability to walk for their um, triumphs. Like a trophy perhaps and lifetime supply of Cheez-Whiz.
-I have gadget envy. Let's face it, I don't need an IPod or a PSP or a Sidekick. So I'm not going to buy them and I don't need Geo or anyone to get me them for any occasion. But damn they look fun as hell to play around with.
7. If I were a guy I'd hook up with a redhead. I have a thing for red hair, but only on women really. I like that deep, fake red like in the ads for John Frieda's "Radiant Red" product line.
8. I rarely do Blogthings but I was interested in what my personal outcome would be for this particular one:
Your Political Profile |
| Overall: 65% Conservative, 35% Liberal |
| Social Issues: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal |
| Personal Responsibility: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal |
| Fiscal Issues: 75% Conservative, 25% Liberal |
| Ethics: 50% Conservative, 50% Liberal |
| Defense and Crime: 100% Conservative, 0% Liberal |
I think it was pretty on point. WOOT!!
May 11, 2005
My Dreams Suck - Updated With More That Suck
My Dreams Suck - Updated With More That Suck
I just wanted to whine for a bit. My dreams fricken suck ass. And not even in the good way. A couple nights ago, I had a dream about this guy John I used to always talk to. He was pretty fly for a white guy, the drummer in this band we used to always go see called Love Lies Bleeding. The dream was HOT and sweaty. Literally. It was hot because he was standing in front of a big stove and I was giving him orders about what to cook and how to cook it. What the fuck? What kind of bullshit kind of dream is that? He's standing there with a spatula or something and I'm yelling "You have to use the cast iron frying pan, the cast iron one!!" That's even worse than my usual almost-banged-but-didn't dreams because there wasn't any mischief at all.
I guess that answers the age-old question of whether or not I'd rather have really great food and mediocre sex for the rest of my life, or really great sex and mediocre food.
Then, last night, I had a dream that a fairy was dropping sand onto my nose pierce. So I kept covering it to protect it. But then I woke up this morning and I was actually rubbing my nose pierce so now it's going to get even more infected. Great. So I touch myself while I sleep, but in a detrimental way, not an enjoyable one. Does that just suck or what?
Updated: Last night I had three dreams. Well, two dreams and one weird mini-one. In the mini one, I dreamt that Geo and I left Steve's house instead of making him chicken fajitas. Then in real life, my daughters started crying and as I struggled to identify what the sound was, I started thinking that the cries were because we were supposed to make Steve fajitas but didn't. So then I was fixated on the idea that the girls were crying because we drove off from Steve's place without grilling up chicken fajitas for him to eat. The thought just reverberated over and over in my head, even as I calmed my daughters and went back to sleep.
Then, I had another dream that we were all in a swimming pool and purple sharks were attacking people I knew, and I kept having to push them onto these weird life rafts that looked like those styrofoam coolers. But my mind didn't like this one so it woke me up fast, before anyone could get seriously hurt.
So then, the last dream was the best because nothing to bizarre happened. I dreamt I got pulled over because I was soberly driving on some guy's lawn. So they took me to the police station and there were these two guys working there who I at first didn't recognize but then realized they were friends of my sister-in-law Net (in real life these guys don't exist or if they do I've never seen them before.) Anyway, they somehow fixed the paperwork and let me go with just a warning and then I went home and found them on some online poker room. The one I was crushing on was named Jamie (spelt Jaime) and he kind of looked like my cousin Prency's ex-boyfriend. I asked to use the restroom at their station and when I went behind this red door there was a hospital there. And in the hallway were three bathroom stalls with a policeman guard. Oh and the two guys' boss was this weird Korean guy that kept marching around and calling out random military terms. But other than that it was pretty normal.
I just wanted to whine for a bit. My dreams fricken suck ass. And not even in the good way. A couple nights ago, I had a dream about this guy John I used to always talk to. He was pretty fly for a white guy, the drummer in this band we used to always go see called Love Lies Bleeding. The dream was HOT and sweaty. Literally. It was hot because he was standing in front of a big stove and I was giving him orders about what to cook and how to cook it. What the fuck? What kind of bullshit kind of dream is that? He's standing there with a spatula or something and I'm yelling "You have to use the cast iron frying pan, the cast iron one!!" That's even worse than my usual almost-banged-but-didn't dreams because there wasn't any mischief at all.
I guess that answers the age-old question of whether or not I'd rather have really great food and mediocre sex for the rest of my life, or really great sex and mediocre food.
Then, last night, I had a dream that a fairy was dropping sand onto my nose pierce. So I kept covering it to protect it. But then I woke up this morning and I was actually rubbing my nose pierce so now it's going to get even more infected. Great. So I touch myself while I sleep, but in a detrimental way, not an enjoyable one. Does that just suck or what?
Updated: Last night I had three dreams. Well, two dreams and one weird mini-one. In the mini one, I dreamt that Geo and I left Steve's house instead of making him chicken fajitas. Then in real life, my daughters started crying and as I struggled to identify what the sound was, I started thinking that the cries were because we were supposed to make Steve fajitas but didn't. So then I was fixated on the idea that the girls were crying because we drove off from Steve's place without grilling up chicken fajitas for him to eat. The thought just reverberated over and over in my head, even as I calmed my daughters and went back to sleep.
Then, I had another dream that we were all in a swimming pool and purple sharks were attacking people I knew, and I kept having to push them onto these weird life rafts that looked like those styrofoam coolers. But my mind didn't like this one so it woke me up fast, before anyone could get seriously hurt.
So then, the last dream was the best because nothing to bizarre happened. I dreamt I got pulled over because I was soberly driving on some guy's lawn. So they took me to the police station and there were these two guys working there who I at first didn't recognize but then realized they were friends of my sister-in-law Net (in real life these guys don't exist or if they do I've never seen them before.) Anyway, they somehow fixed the paperwork and let me go with just a warning and then I went home and found them on some online poker room. The one I was crushing on was named Jamie (spelt Jaime) and he kind of looked like my cousin Prency's ex-boyfriend. I asked to use the restroom at their station and when I went behind this red door there was a hospital there. And in the hallway were three bathroom stalls with a policeman guard. Oh and the two guys' boss was this weird Korean guy that kept marching around and calling out random military terms. But other than that it was pretty normal.
March 29, 2005
Randomness
Randomness
I'm back with a vengeance, did anyone miss me? No? Screw you guys then, I'm going to babble on for awhile anyway.
I had a dream a couple of nights ago that I was trying to get at Chevy Chase. No seriously. We were on a golf course and he was dressed in some godawful, mismatched, plaid golf outfit and I kept making sexual overtures to him. I was on a mission too, I had my game face on. It was so bizarre I actually woke up laughing. Nothing happened of course, because you know I never actually get laid in my dreams. For once, I am actually thankful for that fact.
Last night I had a dream that Mike J and I hit up a real Fireman's Ball, one with thousands of guests. Former President George H.W. Bush was there and he was in the process of offering me a job when Christopher Walken leaned over and tried to veto it. Then he had the audacity to offer me more wine in a really suave manner. Later on as we were about to leave, I decided I had to use the restroom so I went to the back of the ballroom where they had a locker room. Yeah, I know. Just like my Dream Barn has a balcony. As I was using the toilet, Mike J walked in and tried to ask me for advice on how to nail some chick he was picking up at the bar. I screamed "FOR GOD'S SAKE MIKE I'M TAKING A FUCKING DUMP GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE" but he just kept firing questions at me. Finally he ran out when I started throwing the extra rolls of toilet paper at him. Then I woke up. All agitated and shit.
I miss Dean. For the week he stayed at my house, I got to hear him randomly throw words like "cockmilk" and "vrokenheimen" (according to Dean, saying "popped her cherry" is offensive so he likes to say it in "German") into every day conversation. "Damn these cookies would be good with some milk. Not cockmilk though."
Geo and I are obsessed with The Incredibles. I mean really obsessed. Like we've watched it about forty times since we got the DVD a week ago. If I could choose which one of their superpowers to have I'd want Violet's abilities. Invisibility and the power to throw up force fields that withstand bullets and explosions. Awesome. I also love how Jason Lee plays Syndrome, he was also a great bad guy as Azrael in Dogma. He made me want to name my kid Azrael. "No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater than central air."
I just ate a buttload of Famous Amos cookies and now I'm fighting valiantly to keep it down. I guess "tossing your cookies" isn't just a metaphor.
Guilty people all over the country are sobbing with fright now that Johnnie Cochran is dead. It's a tragedy. Just think of how many criminals might actually be punished for their crimes now. The country is going to hell. Now who will defend O.J. the next time he kills one of his faithless wives.
Tony picked up the Playstation PSP and I must tell you I am celadon with envy. Not emerald green, but light green-ish. The clarity on that thing is unbelievable. It's like watching movies or playing video games on a tiny little LCD screen. I mean I am perfectly happy with my Gameboy Advance SP but if a PSP were to magically appear in my pocket after one of Tony's visits I wouldn't be unhappy. And I'd be able to look mad innocent when he tells me he "lost" his new Playstation PSP.
I would like to further debate the whole Patrick-Dempsey-as-a-"What-The" issue, if people will humor me. I refuse to accept that he doesn't count as a "What the hell is she thinking wanting to nail him" guy, just because he's kinda hot now. I realize he was popular during the Can't Buy Me Love days. But let's face it, he was a dork. Think of the movie Loverboy as the litmus test. Did anyone REALLY buy him as a paid gigolo? No, they didn't. And why? Because he was a dork. So in conclusion, it's been 17 years since I took a Logic class but given that:
P = Patrick Dempsey was a dork
Q = Dorks are normally not considered men to bang
R = Dorks are considered What Thes
If P implies Q and Q implies R then P implies R and Patrick Dempsey is a What The.
Take that, Ray.
I'm back with a vengeance, did anyone miss me? No? Screw you guys then, I'm going to babble on for awhile anyway.
I had a dream a couple of nights ago that I was trying to get at Chevy Chase. No seriously. We were on a golf course and he was dressed in some godawful, mismatched, plaid golf outfit and I kept making sexual overtures to him. I was on a mission too, I had my game face on. It was so bizarre I actually woke up laughing. Nothing happened of course, because you know I never actually get laid in my dreams. For once, I am actually thankful for that fact.
Last night I had a dream that Mike J and I hit up a real Fireman's Ball, one with thousands of guests. Former President George H.W. Bush was there and he was in the process of offering me a job when Christopher Walken leaned over and tried to veto it. Then he had the audacity to offer me more wine in a really suave manner. Later on as we were about to leave, I decided I had to use the restroom so I went to the back of the ballroom where they had a locker room. Yeah, I know. Just like my Dream Barn has a balcony. As I was using the toilet, Mike J walked in and tried to ask me for advice on how to nail some chick he was picking up at the bar. I screamed "FOR GOD'S SAKE MIKE I'M TAKING A FUCKING DUMP GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE" but he just kept firing questions at me. Finally he ran out when I started throwing the extra rolls of toilet paper at him. Then I woke up. All agitated and shit.
I miss Dean. For the week he stayed at my house, I got to hear him randomly throw words like "cockmilk" and "vrokenheimen" (according to Dean, saying "popped her cherry" is offensive so he likes to say it in "German") into every day conversation. "Damn these cookies would be good with some milk. Not cockmilk though."
Geo and I are obsessed with The Incredibles. I mean really obsessed. Like we've watched it about forty times since we got the DVD a week ago. If I could choose which one of their superpowers to have I'd want Violet's abilities. Invisibility and the power to throw up force fields that withstand bullets and explosions. Awesome. I also love how Jason Lee plays Syndrome, he was also a great bad guy as Azrael in Dogma. He made me want to name my kid Azrael. "No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater than central air."
I just ate a buttload of Famous Amos cookies and now I'm fighting valiantly to keep it down. I guess "tossing your cookies" isn't just a metaphor.
Guilty people all over the country are sobbing with fright now that Johnnie Cochran is dead. It's a tragedy. Just think of how many criminals might actually be punished for their crimes now. The country is going to hell. Now who will defend O.J. the next time he kills one of his faithless wives.
Tony picked up the Playstation PSP and I must tell you I am celadon with envy. Not emerald green, but light green-ish. The clarity on that thing is unbelievable. It's like watching movies or playing video games on a tiny little LCD screen. I mean I am perfectly happy with my Gameboy Advance SP but if a PSP were to magically appear in my pocket after one of Tony's visits I wouldn't be unhappy. And I'd be able to look mad innocent when he tells me he "lost" his new Playstation PSP.
I would like to further debate the whole Patrick-Dempsey-as-a-"What-The" issue, if people will humor me. I refuse to accept that he doesn't count as a "What the hell is she thinking wanting to nail him" guy, just because he's kinda hot now. I realize he was popular during the Can't Buy Me Love days. But let's face it, he was a dork. Think of the movie Loverboy as the litmus test. Did anyone REALLY buy him as a paid gigolo? No, they didn't. And why? Because he was a dork. So in conclusion, it's been 17 years since I took a Logic class but given that:
P = Patrick Dempsey was a dork
Q = Dorks are normally not considered men to bang
R = Dorks are considered What Thes
If P implies Q and Q implies R then P implies R and Patrick Dempsey is a What The.
Take that, Ray.
March 1, 2005
I Heart Antonio Banderas
I Heart Antonio Banderas. It's A Disease. No, Not That Disease.
Do you ever say something and then silently pray to God you're kidding. I just had one of those moments a few minutes ago, when I said that I didn't care about Clint Eastwood or Jamie Foxx or Cate Blanchett or anyone in Hollywood who isn't Antonio Banderas. I was joking but then curiously, it all of a sudden felt like the truth. I have a sickness.
Last night we were watching the Academy Awards, something I never do but had to make an exception because Chris Rock was hosting. I went to the kitchen and all of a sudden Geo yells out "Yo Riss, your boy is singing a song!" And I knew automatically who he meant and went running back to the living room. Trust me, this post is being written with no small amount of self-loathing. Quick Digression: I just read an article about how the Oscars lost 2 million viewers this year because of Chris Rock. Um no, they lost more than 2 million viewers this year because no one's heard or seen any of the movies nominated. Last year Return of the King was up.
Anyway back to Antonio. Excuse me real quick, while I choke down the bile. This morning I woke up a bit disoriented. I dreamt that I was lost in New York and couldn't reach any of my friends. Finally I was able to reach Girlie, who told me to meet her and Aud at the (fictional) Costco in Jersey City. I get to Costco before them, so I sit down on some couch in a display area to watch TV. Antonio Banderas walks by, and some old Spanish lady starts going into hysterics. He doesn't stop and talk to her so she asks me to follow him and ask him to come back. So I do, and he says he doesn't want to and instead invites me to the um, Costco VIP room.
On our way there, we're walking and I tell him that I never considered myself a fan of his, but that one day I noticed that I had like 8 of his movies, including Original Sin. He responds that Original Sin was kind of crappy and I say "As long as we're on the same page."
We get to the VIP room and it's a red room with white tile floors in the back of the store, complete with bouncer, DJ booth and a disco ball. A table runs the length of an entire wall, complete with numerous fruit and luncheon platters. I naturally decide to eat, but never actually get to see myself eating because that's kind of just the way eating works in my dreams. It's like my brain takes an intermission during dream meals.
Afterwards one of those little Mexican shuttle buses they have all over Jersey City comes by to pick him up. He asks me to come with him and I refuse, because I have to go home to my husband. My dream script writers should be more like the Friends writers. It would have been funnier if I busted out my laminated Top 5 list and showed him that he wasn't on it, and therefore I didn't have written permission from my significant other to bang him.
Do you ever say something and then silently pray to God you're kidding. I just had one of those moments a few minutes ago, when I said that I didn't care about Clint Eastwood or Jamie Foxx or Cate Blanchett or anyone in Hollywood who isn't Antonio Banderas. I was joking but then curiously, it all of a sudden felt like the truth. I have a sickness.
Last night we were watching the Academy Awards, something I never do but had to make an exception because Chris Rock was hosting. I went to the kitchen and all of a sudden Geo yells out "Yo Riss, your boy is singing a song!" And I knew automatically who he meant and went running back to the living room. Trust me, this post is being written with no small amount of self-loathing. Quick Digression: I just read an article about how the Oscars lost 2 million viewers this year because of Chris Rock. Um no, they lost more than 2 million viewers this year because no one's heard or seen any of the movies nominated. Last year Return of the King was up.
Anyway back to Antonio. Excuse me real quick, while I choke down the bile. This morning I woke up a bit disoriented. I dreamt that I was lost in New York and couldn't reach any of my friends. Finally I was able to reach Girlie, who told me to meet her and Aud at the (fictional) Costco in Jersey City. I get to Costco before them, so I sit down on some couch in a display area to watch TV. Antonio Banderas walks by, and some old Spanish lady starts going into hysterics. He doesn't stop and talk to her so she asks me to follow him and ask him to come back. So I do, and he says he doesn't want to and instead invites me to the um, Costco VIP room.
On our way there, we're walking and I tell him that I never considered myself a fan of his, but that one day I noticed that I had like 8 of his movies, including Original Sin. He responds that Original Sin was kind of crappy and I say "As long as we're on the same page."
We get to the VIP room and it's a red room with white tile floors in the back of the store, complete with bouncer, DJ booth and a disco ball. A table runs the length of an entire wall, complete with numerous fruit and luncheon platters. I naturally decide to eat, but never actually get to see myself eating because that's kind of just the way eating works in my dreams. It's like my brain takes an intermission during dream meals.
Afterwards one of those little Mexican shuttle buses they have all over Jersey City comes by to pick him up. He asks me to come with him and I refuse, because I have to go home to my husband. My dream script writers should be more like the Friends writers. It would have been funnier if I busted out my laminated Top 5 list and showed him that he wasn't on it, and therefore I didn't have written permission from my significant other to bang him.
February 12, 2005
More Crazy Dreams
More Crazy Dreams
A few nights ago I had a dream that an acquaintance of mine begged me to help him figure out what some big bump on his penis was. I kept saying no but he kept begging and finally just started sobbing. So we're in the women's jeans section of Old Navy and he whips out his penis and there's a big purple bruise on it the size of a quarter. I told him to take it to a doctor, whatever a gynecologist for men is called, if they even exist. A Urologist? A Penologist? This is my fault isn't it for making that Hellmark greeting card down there.
Two nights ago, I had a dream that Paul and his friends were hanging out at some resort hotel and invited us along. So me, Tony, Geo and the girls headed over there for a weekend of sun and partying. When we got there, and when I met up with Paul, he apologized and said he couldn't hang out because he and four of his friends were going to go write a dissertation on police brutality. I thought I was being blown off in a really creative way, but when I saw them later on they were in a conference room, complete with dry erase board for efficient brainstorming.
We got separated and I ended up in this room with 6 naked men in the middle of a circle of seated spectators. I noticed Geo's sister Net on a couch in the corner, so I moseyed on over to her and scooted in. The 6 naked guys turned around and it turns out they had really really long penises. Like at least 2 feet long, maybe more. They start dancing around, shaking their hips so their penises fling side to side. Everyone seems to be enjoying it except me, I'm torn between laughter and disgust. So I leave the room to look for my posse ('s on Broadway) again. This portion of the dream was brought to you courtesy of the fact that my idiot self watched "Strap-On baseball" a week or so ago on Howard Stern.
Later on, someone says the "show" is over so I wander back into the room to look for Net. The room is empty but filthy and as I turn to leave, my daughter who I'm carrying reaches down and somehow (you know how dreams don't make biological sense most of the time) touches the filthy floor. I freak out and clamp down on her hand so she can't touch anything else with it. Then I run through the entire hotel to some bathroom and proceed to scrub her hand with hot water and soap. But I'm not trusting the soap's cleansing ability so I grab some other bottle that's a Cetaphil bottle with masking tape over it and the word WAND written on it in red. This apparently satisfies my cleansing ability fears and I use that to scrub her hand. Then I wake up. Still stressed but assured in the knowledge that my daughter's hand is clean.
Last night, I had a dream that there was some great flood catastrophe in the South and I was in charge of some mansion houseboat. Just imagine a mansion that looks like a mansion but acts like a boat and defies all laws of chemistry and physics, especially in respect to size, matter and movement. As we floated down the river, a woman sitting on a rooftop tossed her baby to me and when I tried to get her to come on board, she shook her head and just stayed where she was. So I called out to her where I lived so she could find me and get her baby back. The other scenes are a bit fuzzy but I remember that we "docked" somewhere and a hundred people tried to rush the doors to use the bathroom. I was like no, they can go outside and everyone was saying I was heartless. But I asked them if they wanted to clean the bathroom after all those people had used it and they said no. So I told them to shut up. But the people still tried to get in so I asked this guy if he had a shotgun and he busted two out. So I grabbed one and fired a shot diagnoally so no one would get hit. When the horde looked up, I told them anyone boarding would be shot. Then I gave the shotgun back to the guy and told him to wing anyone attempting to board the houseboat mansion. Craziness.
A few nights ago I had a dream that an acquaintance of mine begged me to help him figure out what some big bump on his penis was. I kept saying no but he kept begging and finally just started sobbing. So we're in the women's jeans section of Old Navy and he whips out his penis and there's a big purple bruise on it the size of a quarter. I told him to take it to a doctor, whatever a gynecologist for men is called, if they even exist. A Urologist? A Penologist? This is my fault isn't it for making that Hellmark greeting card down there.
Two nights ago, I had a dream that Paul and his friends were hanging out at some resort hotel and invited us along. So me, Tony, Geo and the girls headed over there for a weekend of sun and partying. When we got there, and when I met up with Paul, he apologized and said he couldn't hang out because he and four of his friends were going to go write a dissertation on police brutality. I thought I was being blown off in a really creative way, but when I saw them later on they were in a conference room, complete with dry erase board for efficient brainstorming.
We got separated and I ended up in this room with 6 naked men in the middle of a circle of seated spectators. I noticed Geo's sister Net on a couch in the corner, so I moseyed on over to her and scooted in. The 6 naked guys turned around and it turns out they had really really long penises. Like at least 2 feet long, maybe more. They start dancing around, shaking their hips so their penises fling side to side. Everyone seems to be enjoying it except me, I'm torn between laughter and disgust. So I leave the room to look for my posse ('s on Broadway) again. This portion of the dream was brought to you courtesy of the fact that my idiot self watched "Strap-On baseball" a week or so ago on Howard Stern.
Later on, someone says the "show" is over so I wander back into the room to look for Net. The room is empty but filthy and as I turn to leave, my daughter who I'm carrying reaches down and somehow (you know how dreams don't make biological sense most of the time) touches the filthy floor. I freak out and clamp down on her hand so she can't touch anything else with it. Then I run through the entire hotel to some bathroom and proceed to scrub her hand with hot water and soap. But I'm not trusting the soap's cleansing ability so I grab some other bottle that's a Cetaphil bottle with masking tape over it and the word WAND written on it in red. This apparently satisfies my cleansing ability fears and I use that to scrub her hand. Then I wake up. Still stressed but assured in the knowledge that my daughter's hand is clean.
Last night, I had a dream that there was some great flood catastrophe in the South and I was in charge of some mansion houseboat. Just imagine a mansion that looks like a mansion but acts like a boat and defies all laws of chemistry and physics, especially in respect to size, matter and movement. As we floated down the river, a woman sitting on a rooftop tossed her baby to me and when I tried to get her to come on board, she shook her head and just stayed where she was. So I called out to her where I lived so she could find me and get her baby back. The other scenes are a bit fuzzy but I remember that we "docked" somewhere and a hundred people tried to rush the doors to use the bathroom. I was like no, they can go outside and everyone was saying I was heartless. But I asked them if they wanted to clean the bathroom after all those people had used it and they said no. So I told them to shut up. But the people still tried to get in so I asked this guy if he had a shotgun and he busted two out. So I grabbed one and fired a shot diagnoally so no one would get hit. When the horde looked up, I told them anyone boarding would be shot. Then I gave the shotgun back to the guy and told him to wing anyone attempting to board the houseboat mansion. Craziness.
January 30, 2005
Sunday
Sunday
I just had an uninterrupted 5 hours of sleep, and I fucking feel great!!! This is on top of 5 hours of only minimally interrupted sleep so life is dandy. I'm ready to take over the world! But not yet. Because I'm hungry. And Aud is coming over so we can go putz around at Barnes and Noble. Plus the shower is calling to me "Hey Riss, don't be such a stranger."
Naturally, with all this sleep, I had a crazy dream. I dreamt I was in Amsterdam at some hotel with my childhood friend Cara. The hotel was some sort of bizarre place people rented to get abortions or give birth. She wanted an abortion but after a few too-graphic sequences, ended up giving birth to a baby girl instead. There is apparently no time-space continuum in my dreams with respect to biology. But they did bring us room service.
Late night television is messing with my mind. As some of you know, I've recently become a rampant insomniac. If by recently you mean the last 5 months or so. As a result, I've become obsessed with the fact that Dharma and Greg is no longer on the air. What a television travesty. Also, I'm obsessed with this candle set I saw on QVC called Bakery Scents. I mean it's a simmer pot with candles shaped like pastries. It's like it was made especially for me!! Actually if it was made especially for me, there'd be little fried bacon candles and popcorn candles and big fat steak candles. That would rock.
Mike came over last night. He gave me some "cold medicine" you shoot up your nose. I tried it and it burned the inside of my nostrils, my brain and my throat. Then I had to blow my nose for two hours. It was very weird and kind of disgusting. Never thought there'd be some process in this world where a coke addict would have some sort of edge. If I were a coke addict, the inside of my nostrils would have been so numb the medicine would have just felt like water.
Past midnight last night, someone knocked on our front door. Who would be knocking on our door past midnight? Naturally, I thought it was a murderer, albeit a very polite murderer. So Geo looked out the window and it was our friend Pete. He came to drop a Christmas present off for the girls, on his way to go do laundry. Who does laundry at midnight? But it was nice seeing him, if only for one minute. And thanks for the gift Pete! It was a gift certificate to Toys R Us which I will use to buy fun toys for myself, er, the girls I meant. Totally unrelated to the gift certificate I'm now in control of spending, the great toymakers have re-released some of the old Transformers toys. Again, this is completely unrelated to the gift certificate I have in my possession now. Oh come on, I wouldn't steal from my own children. You guys maybe, but not my own kids.
I just had an uninterrupted 5 hours of sleep, and I fucking feel great!!! This is on top of 5 hours of only minimally interrupted sleep so life is dandy. I'm ready to take over the world! But not yet. Because I'm hungry. And Aud is coming over so we can go putz around at Barnes and Noble. Plus the shower is calling to me "Hey Riss, don't be such a stranger."
Naturally, with all this sleep, I had a crazy dream. I dreamt I was in Amsterdam at some hotel with my childhood friend Cara. The hotel was some sort of bizarre place people rented to get abortions or give birth. She wanted an abortion but after a few too-graphic sequences, ended up giving birth to a baby girl instead. There is apparently no time-space continuum in my dreams with respect to biology. But they did bring us room service.
Late night television is messing with my mind. As some of you know, I've recently become a rampant insomniac. If by recently you mean the last 5 months or so. As a result, I've become obsessed with the fact that Dharma and Greg is no longer on the air. What a television travesty. Also, I'm obsessed with this candle set I saw on QVC called Bakery Scents. I mean it's a simmer pot with candles shaped like pastries. It's like it was made especially for me!! Actually if it was made especially for me, there'd be little fried bacon candles and popcorn candles and big fat steak candles. That would rock.
Mike came over last night. He gave me some "cold medicine" you shoot up your nose. I tried it and it burned the inside of my nostrils, my brain and my throat. Then I had to blow my nose for two hours. It was very weird and kind of disgusting. Never thought there'd be some process in this world where a coke addict would have some sort of edge. If I were a coke addict, the inside of my nostrils would have been so numb the medicine would have just felt like water.
Past midnight last night, someone knocked on our front door. Who would be knocking on our door past midnight? Naturally, I thought it was a murderer, albeit a very polite murderer. So Geo looked out the window and it was our friend Pete. He came to drop a Christmas present off for the girls, on his way to go do laundry. Who does laundry at midnight? But it was nice seeing him, if only for one minute. And thanks for the gift Pete! It was a gift certificate to Toys R Us which I will use to buy fun toys for myself, er, the girls I meant. Totally unrelated to the gift certificate I'm now in control of spending, the great toymakers have re-released some of the old Transformers toys. Again, this is completely unrelated to the gift certificate I have in my possession now. Oh come on, I wouldn't steal from my own children. You guys maybe, but not my own kids.
January 28, 2005
Red Team Go
Red Team Go
So I wake up this morning all adrenaliney because I had this crazy dream. I dreamt Geo and I were in high school together, at this really old school. I mean the architecture at this place was amazing. Curved marble staircases, elaborate gates, gargoyles, it was all there. The school was infested by some poltergeist-type things that also had the ability to possess people. Geo and I were both leading two separate teams of students fighting the bastards off, with broomsticks of all things. Picture stick fighting against invisible enemies with plastic orange sticks. But a bit cooler than that.
So after school we're hanging out at Taco Bell (my real high school had a Taco Bell across the street) and I decide to head back into the school to organize my team for some offensive strike. Geo says he'll follow but he gets caught up talking to some groupie. I get to the ornate gate which serves as the side entrance to our school, and three goth chicks reminiscent of The Craft come striding up and there's this crackle of tension in the air. I'm like uh-oh and rightfully so because they're possessed and they attack. I'm fending them off with these crazy martial arts moves a la Kill Bill but trying to get back to where Geo and the other team leader are. Apparently I had just had surgery and wasn't supposed to be engaging in heavy combat. I guess my dream screenwriter failed to make me heal like Wolverine, which would've been cool as hell.
We're fighting and moving backwards up the street and finally I decide to run towards Geo, because even though it was an even fight at first, the fricken poltergeists start throwing me around against cars and shit. After an excruciatingly slow run (I hate running in dreams, it's so slow and my legs feel like they're made of lead) I make it back to Geo and the demon broads back off. The other team leader grabs some of his lieutenants and chases them. Geo is freaking out because he says he should have been there and I can't say anything because I'm gasping for air and my insides feel like they've been beaten with a bat.
So I have no clue what my dream means, but Kwame gave me a Dream dictionary so let me go check what it says.
Broom - Some crap about sweeping with one but nothing about fighting with one. "In a woman's dream the broom might also be a phallic symbol." Ah.
School - Dreaming about being back in school as an adult means I need to pay attention to my past and childhood, life wants to instruct me on something. I am being challenged to learn from past experiences.
Fighting - "Dreaming about fighting reflects the difficulties you have in balancing conflicting personality traits."
Nothing about poltergeists. So in conclusion, I still have no idea what my dream meant. Maybe that I shouldn't walk through a school alone because I'll get beaten with a broom. Or that I need to learn something from my experiences with past phalluses that will help me balance my multiple personalities. Or that these dream interpretation books are useless to me because my dreams are so inane (sorry Kwam.)
So I wake up this morning all adrenaliney because I had this crazy dream. I dreamt Geo and I were in high school together, at this really old school. I mean the architecture at this place was amazing. Curved marble staircases, elaborate gates, gargoyles, it was all there. The school was infested by some poltergeist-type things that also had the ability to possess people. Geo and I were both leading two separate teams of students fighting the bastards off, with broomsticks of all things. Picture stick fighting against invisible enemies with plastic orange sticks. But a bit cooler than that.
So after school we're hanging out at Taco Bell (my real high school had a Taco Bell across the street) and I decide to head back into the school to organize my team for some offensive strike. Geo says he'll follow but he gets caught up talking to some groupie. I get to the ornate gate which serves as the side entrance to our school, and three goth chicks reminiscent of The Craft come striding up and there's this crackle of tension in the air. I'm like uh-oh and rightfully so because they're possessed and they attack. I'm fending them off with these crazy martial arts moves a la Kill Bill but trying to get back to where Geo and the other team leader are. Apparently I had just had surgery and wasn't supposed to be engaging in heavy combat. I guess my dream screenwriter failed to make me heal like Wolverine, which would've been cool as hell.
We're fighting and moving backwards up the street and finally I decide to run towards Geo, because even though it was an even fight at first, the fricken poltergeists start throwing me around against cars and shit. After an excruciatingly slow run (I hate running in dreams, it's so slow and my legs feel like they're made of lead) I make it back to Geo and the demon broads back off. The other team leader grabs some of his lieutenants and chases them. Geo is freaking out because he says he should have been there and I can't say anything because I'm gasping for air and my insides feel like they've been beaten with a bat.
So I have no clue what my dream means, but Kwame gave me a Dream dictionary so let me go check what it says.
Broom - Some crap about sweeping with one but nothing about fighting with one. "In a woman's dream the broom might also be a phallic symbol." Ah.
School - Dreaming about being back in school as an adult means I need to pay attention to my past and childhood, life wants to instruct me on something. I am being challenged to learn from past experiences.
Fighting - "Dreaming about fighting reflects the difficulties you have in balancing conflicting personality traits."
Nothing about poltergeists. So in conclusion, I still have no idea what my dream meant. Maybe that I shouldn't walk through a school alone because I'll get beaten with a broom. Or that I need to learn something from my experiences with past phalluses that will help me balance my multiple personalities. Or that these dream interpretation books are useless to me because my dreams are so inane (sorry Kwam.)
December 18, 2004
Random Thoughts Part 38906
Random Thoughts Part 38906
1. I really hate it when I'm a vain slut, even if it only happens in dreams (none of my friends better publicly challenge this statement if they know what's good for them). I had this dream last night that there were eight really hot brothers and they told me it was a point of contention among them that I hadn't banged any of them. I left the table and when I came back, the hottest one had left his number on the side of a matchbox. My ego was tickled in the dream so I called him up and went out with him. Of course, I never actually get laid in my dreams so I woke up right before it got truly dirty. My dreams suck.
2. Speaking of dreams, it's kind of amusing when your mind confuses events of slumber with real-life occurrences. I was drinking at a bowling alley with Tony awhile back (hey, we drink where we can. We're not picky) and I told him he had to take me to Satin Dolls one day since Lace management has banned me from the premises for threatening their bouncer. Tony got a bit huffy and said he already took me there, and that I cockblocked him by moving in on some stripper/bartender he dug.
Me: What the fuck are you talking about?
Tony (with a weird expression on his face as the realization dawns): Um, unless it was just a dream.
Me: Yeah it was a dream, I've never been to Satin Dolls. We always go to Lace and we hit up Delilah's Den down south once with Pete.
Tony: Oh, whoops. Well I had a dream that I was dating a bartender at Satin Dolls and she must have been hot because even you were trying to get at her. I'd show up there for lunch and you'd already be there, talking to her. (Editor's note: I'm only a lesbian in my friends' dreams.)
Me: Dude, I wouldn't cockblock you. Unless she was REALLY hot. Then all bets are off.
By the way, don't get me started on people who willingly eat at strip joints. It's unnatural.
3. My body is disgustingly resilient to chemicals. What is the world coming to when two sleeping pills chased with Thera-Flu won't knock you out anymore. Sleep. I must sleep. When I was in the hospital they almost strapped me down to the bed because I kept getting up and walking around. Apparently they were under the impression that being continuously infused with magnesium sulfate would hinder my ability to walk. I was like lady, I once drank Cisco (liquid crack), 2 40s of O.E. and 7 shots of Bacardi 151. You could infuse my veins with gasoline and my body would adjust.
4. I'm still laughing at the thought of telling people that Mike J goes to bars and plays the fireman card to get ass. "And then, while they're still teary-eyed at the thought of his heroics, he nails them." You might be thinking right now that I totally suck as a friend, but hey. I pick up random chicks at bars for my boys. A little light-hearted slander every now and again is a small price to pay.
5. I dropped a smoke on the ground and it rolled into a pile of leaves. By the time I found it, it was out. I really should quit. In protest of the fact that Marlboro's new cigarettes really blow. They did something funky to their smokes and now it goes out if you don't take a drag within 15 seconds. I'm sure their PR department is spinning the change as a pro-active measure to reduce the number of people killed because their dumb asses fell asleep while smoking in bed. But we know the real reason is that if the cigarette dies after 15 seconds, the person smokes faster and ends up needing a new pack more often. I'll add quitting to my list of New Year's resolutions. My resolutions are going to be exactly the same as last year. I think I only managed to knock off one on the list. In my weak ass defense, it's hard to quit when your significant other smokes as well. You're in there, fiending furiously and patting yourself on the back while he's out there, lighting up a stoge without a care in the world. What I need is monetary incentive. Or culinary incentive. Or alcoholic incentive. Any will do. Although the latter two increase the fiending. Drinking without smoking is like watching arena football. You're still technically watching football but something's not quite right.
1. I really hate it when I'm a vain slut, even if it only happens in dreams (none of my friends better publicly challenge this statement if they know what's good for them). I had this dream last night that there were eight really hot brothers and they told me it was a point of contention among them that I hadn't banged any of them. I left the table and when I came back, the hottest one had left his number on the side of a matchbox. My ego was tickled in the dream so I called him up and went out with him. Of course, I never actually get laid in my dreams so I woke up right before it got truly dirty. My dreams suck.
2. Speaking of dreams, it's kind of amusing when your mind confuses events of slumber with real-life occurrences. I was drinking at a bowling alley with Tony awhile back (hey, we drink where we can. We're not picky) and I told him he had to take me to Satin Dolls one day since Lace management has banned me from the premises for threatening their bouncer. Tony got a bit huffy and said he already took me there, and that I cockblocked him by moving in on some stripper/bartender he dug.
Me: What the fuck are you talking about?
Tony (with a weird expression on his face as the realization dawns): Um, unless it was just a dream.
Me: Yeah it was a dream, I've never been to Satin Dolls. We always go to Lace and we hit up Delilah's Den down south once with Pete.
Tony: Oh, whoops. Well I had a dream that I was dating a bartender at Satin Dolls and she must have been hot because even you were trying to get at her. I'd show up there for lunch and you'd already be there, talking to her. (Editor's note: I'm only a lesbian in my friends' dreams.)
Me: Dude, I wouldn't cockblock you. Unless she was REALLY hot. Then all bets are off.
By the way, don't get me started on people who willingly eat at strip joints. It's unnatural.
3. My body is disgustingly resilient to chemicals. What is the world coming to when two sleeping pills chased with Thera-Flu won't knock you out anymore. Sleep. I must sleep. When I was in the hospital they almost strapped me down to the bed because I kept getting up and walking around. Apparently they were under the impression that being continuously infused with magnesium sulfate would hinder my ability to walk. I was like lady, I once drank Cisco (liquid crack), 2 40s of O.E. and 7 shots of Bacardi 151. You could infuse my veins with gasoline and my body would adjust.
4. I'm still laughing at the thought of telling people that Mike J goes to bars and plays the fireman card to get ass. "And then, while they're still teary-eyed at the thought of his heroics, he nails them." You might be thinking right now that I totally suck as a friend, but hey. I pick up random chicks at bars for my boys. A little light-hearted slander every now and again is a small price to pay.
5. I dropped a smoke on the ground and it rolled into a pile of leaves. By the time I found it, it was out. I really should quit. In protest of the fact that Marlboro's new cigarettes really blow. They did something funky to their smokes and now it goes out if you don't take a drag within 15 seconds. I'm sure their PR department is spinning the change as a pro-active measure to reduce the number of people killed because their dumb asses fell asleep while smoking in bed. But we know the real reason is that if the cigarette dies after 15 seconds, the person smokes faster and ends up needing a new pack more often. I'll add quitting to my list of New Year's resolutions. My resolutions are going to be exactly the same as last year. I think I only managed to knock off one on the list. In my weak ass defense, it's hard to quit when your significant other smokes as well. You're in there, fiending furiously and patting yourself on the back while he's out there, lighting up a stoge without a care in the world. What I need is monetary incentive. Or culinary incentive. Or alcoholic incentive. Any will do. Although the latter two increase the fiending. Drinking without smoking is like watching arena football. You're still technically watching football but something's not quite right.
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