After a long bout of being plagued by nightmares, I have yet again had... (duh duh daaaaaa!!!) another nightmare. It began with making my pet elephant cry Friday night, and then the tornado that twisted up some fetus baby thing & a starving preteen mom on Saturday night, and then last night took the cake and ran home with it. And then ate it, and threw it up. It was a horrible, horrible realistic dream in which things actually plausible - not like, me having a multitude of shoes and drowning in them or something - this was with real people and real situations that could happen, if we only lived in a compound. In fact, I don't want to think about it at all, so let's! change! the! subject!
This dude in Illinois that has released all sorts of prisoners & pardoned & prettied himself up morally is my new hero. And when I say dude, I am still in Boner-croner mode, so I really mean Governor. Anyway, I am quite fond of people flipping out and freaking everybody out - and for god's sake, let's do it up right. Let's make a scandal, let's see how much people actually give a big fatty crap. And people do! There's already talk of victims' families saying "it's like they were murdered all over again" - big stinky pot pie deal. It is not, let's not get overdramatic (that's not a word, that overdramatic word I just used - not a word, by the way) and let's face it - the system doesn't work, and I am astonished to find out that people ever thought that it did. Long story short, I like the shit-stirrers, and this dude is one of them... and he's also taking the cake, bringing it home, and eating all of it. But since he's a roustabout he doesn't throw it up. Weee! Vive la revolution!
Another thing I have recently developed a fondness for (besides the term for the SRC) is Avril Levigne. While I do not particularly like her music, and I do not particularly like her "I'm punk rock but really I'm Canadian and I cry at dead puppies but don't tell the fans" kind of attitude (she's no Slipknot - I want answers!), I do like the fact that she is not shakin her talentless ass all over the joint like a stripper and selling her tits. She wears t-shirts and dickies, for Christ's sake. All hail the new pop princess - and thank God it ain't Britney Spears. Whew! Let's all breathe a sigh of relief that she (Spears) is slip-slip-sliding away into soon-to-be-posing-for-Playboy land. Ha. I say, you get what you pay for, and I'm thinking Spears is expired. Hopefully we can replace our society's heavy-heart with the objectification of talentless men. Yay! I can't wait! It's already started with the Bachelorette (brilliant! genius!). Vive la revolution encore!
There is something wrong with my wrist - and I'm not a pubescent boy, so mark that off your list of reasons for painful wrists - anyway, the damn thing is cracking and popping like Rice Krispies. Hopefully, it will stop, just as the snapping in my neck should cease as well.
On that note, it is imperative to say that my most mistyped word has to be "just" - I am constantly fixing it from "jsut."
Tonight is a big all-you-can-eat-meat night, guys & dolls! I can't wait... and now... time to .... enter purchase orders!