the dreams are getting weirder
Last night it was “Josie and the Pussycats” only instead of an animated series it was the Outlaw Josie Wales and ten or twelve assorted cats. Same theme song, for reasons unknown. The old woman plays the theme song on an Autoharp, and the cats get into everything. Clint keeps spitting on them and they- as cats will- lick it off, so the cats are all nicotine addicted and hyperactive. Hairballs everywhere. The climax of the movie comes when clint draws down on a bad guy and instead of a Colt, pulls a teacup sized calico kitten out of the holster. The bad guy keels over in laughter, and Clint tosses the cat onto him where it horks up a tobacco laden hairball on his ear.
I gotta figure out what I’m eating that’s causing this.
14 comments Og | Uncategorized
You gotta make more of what you’re eating and hire a ghost screenwriter. (The hook would be having the kitten sparkle-in-an-angsty-way and an exploding hairball….)
I’m sure a day’s exposure to hypoid oil fumes did not help.
I’ll have what you’re having.
I think that movie influenced too many young men during the 70’s and 80’s into thinking that rudeness and discourtesy were manly virtues. And before you go defending the fictional Josie and the film version that Clint made of him, think about the fact that it’s not particularly manly to spit on people you know can’t match your gun skills.
But that was a funny dream, right enough, and I LOL’d a genuine LOL over it.
Spitting is a nasty habit.
Let me know if you figure out what’s causing the dreams; mine are sort of boring and could use livening up.
After a nightmare, Snoopy always thought, “I really have to stop eating all those 30-inch pizzas before bed.”
Maybe that’s why the adults all sounded like muted french horns
I dreamed of cutting the grass. I had to choose between two different power mowers of types I have not seen in a lot of years 9rotary blades on the front). Neither one would start. But the grass looked fine anyway so I just drank beer and admired it.
I have very simple dreams.
Professor, if your dream included having the beer brought to you by a hot looking red head, than I want my dream back!
I shall not be having the Naproxen and Trammadol tonight, for last night’s dream was just WAY too weird. I can handle plenty of weird stuff, but turtle shells possessed by a female ghost that refuses to find eternal rest until said shell is wired for broadband so it can finally win some arguments on the Internet?
Fuck. That.
I’ll self-medicate with beer tonight, thanks.
I dunno, Randy. A broadband turtle (Aside from being an awesome band name) could be a cool thing.
7th grade, Josie and the pussy cats, and a jar of Ponds cold cream. What?
Awesome dream! I am chuckling, over here! Why can’t I have dreams like that? I hardly ever recall *anything*.