Trail mix with Wasabi peas.
I love the stuff, but I gotta stop eating it right before bed.
I dreampt I was at a wedding- a black tie affair, outdoors, held on the big island of Hawaii, in Volcano national park. I had rented a very nice tux, the Ogwife and Oglet were dressed to the nines (I was forced to take the ogwife off to a private place and maul her several times prior to the ceremony, she looked so tasty) and everything was top-shelf.
The ladies had all been treated to spa treatments the day before, and the gentlemen had all had a real barber shave that very morning.
At the “Pre reception” we milled around, and drank spendy booze out of glasses blown just for the occasion. Girls were wandering around the grounds with scandium framed smith 38 revolvers, which they demonstrated were loaded with multicolored flares, and when requested, they would strap one on you in an ankle holster so you didn’t have to crease your tux. Apparently we got to keep the revolvers afterwards as well.
A table was lined with fine cigars and Savinelli Autograph pipes, which Giancarlo Savinelli personally made for the occasion. A similar table was covered with high end handbags containing tennis bracelets etc., for the ladies.
It was an incredible soiree, and we all sat down while the non denominational minister gave the speech from Princess Bride. Then the bride and groom, Tam and Roberta, paraded up to the minister and stood in the whyan sunshine. All I could think was “Tam and Roberta? A minister? ” I really am gonna have to lay off the wasabi trail mix just before bed.
14 comments Og | Uncategorized
Whoa, dude…
whyan sunshine? At least you didn’t let one rip during the ceremony.
Whyan is what Hawaiians call themselves. Say it out loud
Whoa, Tam and Roberta as Bride and Groom?
You better steer clear of Broad Ripple for a while. :-D
Dude! Take shelter now. Weld the shelter door shut. Stay in the shelter for a looooong time, but expect that when you come out, the afore-mentioned lasses won’t have, so you’re STILL in trouble.
Dude! You can’t blame this on Wasabi. Pre-frontal lobotomy may be required.
I can’t believe that I thought your scat-blogging was over the top….
Well, alrighty then.
I’m an old hand at trouble with women. i expect the source of the dream- aside from the Wasabi- was the undercurrent that T and R have been roomies for a while, and therefore have a more stable relationship than many I know. Plus, there were the militant gays outside the perimeter yelling “You don’t love one another! You’re only doing this for the insurance!” that made me giggle the most. Even in my dreams I would never disrespect either of the ladies in question.
And they call the islands, Aina. We left our wedding offering on the stone altar up between the Maunas up on the saddle-road. Pele might not like having her turf invaded – depends on which guise she shows-up in, she could love it…
Insurance hell, my wife’s boss and his partner want to get hitched but they haven’t done the math on the marriage tax-penalty – that could burn-off all the insurance benefits – sucka!
I can’t WAIT for the next blogmeet!
Duuuude, I am totally not the “groom” type.
I’m totally not the marrying type, either. BTDT, albeit unofficially.
Then there’s the…problem: I’m not the into-women type, either.
At my age and life-experience, it’s a wonder I can tolerate anyone in the same house — or Turk Turon takin’ me out two-three times a year. I have not had happy relationships.
But the biggest hurdle of all? Tamara can’t cook! And by jingo, if I gotta wear the tux, I am not gonna slave over a hot stove.
Hey, I know all that, but you can’t control your dreams, can you? Otherwise it’s All Bea Arthur All the Time.
Crap, that was out loud again, wasn’t it?
Actually, by the way, you were both dressed alike, so who the hell knew which was the bride and which was the groom?
I was reactin’ to what you wrote. Can’t see into your mind — which, as you are often at pains to point out, is a Good Thing.
“which, as you are often at pains to point out, is a Good Thing.”
Indeed-a-rooney!
Especially as I’m not going to discuss what…. you were… wearing…
Forget I said anything.