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| I miss you! |
| 05.02.05 (3:00 pm) [edit] |
Well, you'll notice that it's been almost two weeks since my last blog. I've been having impure thoughts about Hugh Laurie and I wished a certain blonde heiress-turned-actress the worst possible death on multiple occasions. I wonder what my act of contrition will be? Anyway, I've been busy working on the dissertation, or should I say that I've been busy saying that I'm busy working on the dissertation. Before I go back to business, thought I'd share this weird dream I had with you. According to my diary, I had it back on April 19th, and I'm not sure of the events that influenced it or not.
I was a guest at a wedding and I arrived a few days early (you'd better get comfy...this isn't a short dream). I was at the final rehearsal. The maid of honor was also the wedding
coordinator, so I had to stand in for her during rehearsals. Suddenly the bride got nervous and started projectile vomiting all over the church. The groom saw this and with a nervous stomach of his own, he started to go as well. Green puke was all over the altar. The wedding was postponed for a day so they could calm down and the place could be aired out. Then I discovered that the bride and groom, who apparently are both cousins of mine (Jamaica is a small island, ok, so let's get on with this), were actually poisoned and if they hadn't thrown up when they did, they would have died. We discovered who had poisoned them. It was the groom's mother's boyfriend who was married and wanted her to shut up and to stop her from confronting his wife about her pregnancy. So at the hospital I called the groom's mother "Cousin f--king bitch, whore, slag, c*nt, asstrader..." and some other words I'm not sure I even know what they mean. Safe to say, she felt bad and said she wanted the man dead. She asked for my help.
All of a sudden I was an invisible assassin. She told me if I killed the boyfriend that she would tell me where to steal over $3 million from some mobsters she worked for. So
I agreed to kill the boyfriend who turned out to be Corbin Bernsen from LA Law fame sans hair and the barest traces of attractiveness. Yikes, I know. So I get to his mansion and I notice his wife is packing her BMW X3 with suitcases and boxes, and trying to leave quietly. She's sneaking out while he's in the shower. I'm not surprised that a man like Corbin Bernsen takes long showers. Must be hard exfoliating that reptilian skin. Anyway, she's also opened up the safe in the house and removed money and jewelry. So as the
invisible assassin (I'm wearing an MI6 engineered invisible suit because nobody does it better than those in Her Majesty's Secret Service) I sneak in and relieve her of some of her cash and a diamond tiara (because my cousin might want to wear it at the wedding to match the one his bride is wearing) before turning my attention upstairs to a naked Corbin
Bernsen in the shower. Blech. I come in and the room is all steamy and not in a good way. Ewww. I open the shower doors and he assumes I am Sheryl, his wife, coming for a quick fondle (ugh) but all he sees is my form in the mist. It's too late by then for
him to scream because I've already slashed his throat with a razor (Man, why am I so violent in this dream?) and I leave him slumped over in the shower like he's trying to clean out his pubes from the drain. Anyway, I dry off, head downstairs to see the Mrs. taking the last of her bags to the SUV. I leave her alone out of pity. I mean, she's married to Corbin Bernsen and he cheated on her with a f--king bitch, whore, slag, c*nt, asstrader.
Then the dream goes all Mission Impossible on me (minus Tom Cruise because then I would be projectile vomiting). I'm apparently at the warehouse where the f--king bitch, whore, slag, c*nt, asstrader told me that her boss does business. I have with me a briefcase that can also go invisible like my suit. I wait till the boss is making a deal and money changes hands and follow him to the money room. The money room is this large vault like that of Scrooge McDuck and it's loaded. More than the $3 million that I was told about. I don't get greedy. "Greedy gets you killed," I tell myself. I take what's mine and place it in the briefcase but not before they notice that there is someone in the money room. They've got motion-sensors. They lock me in the money room but they can't see me. I wait patiently at the door for them to open it so I can slip out behind them. They've got infra-red but fortunately the suit doesn't even give off a heat signature. They have to use a motion-detecting device, but I am so still, the only the thing moving is my heart beating and the blood in my veins. Finally they give in, open the door, I wait till the guards pass me and have the motion detector pointed away from me. I slip past and fly away. That's right. I fly away. All of a sudden the MI6 suit has a zero-gravity feature. Then I wake up when Bud brings me tea. He says, "Did you sleep well?" I say, "Well, I was having a nice dream, f--king bitch, whore, slag, c*nt, asstrader!" Well, I didn't really say that to my doting brother but my eyes did.
The End.
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posted by: irishred (reply)
post date: 05.02.05 (12:28 pm)
Welcome back NAT! I missed you!
posted by: newbie (reply)
post date: 05.03.05 (8:40 am)
You're scaring me......lol Joolie xxx
posted by: dustyjumpwings (reply)
post date: 05.03.05 (3:13 pm)
It still does it to me. Just the words "projectile vomiting". Can't stop laughing.
posted by: aesav23 (reply)
post date: 05.04.05 (11:19 am)
Some highlights that made me chuckle...
"...the bride and groom, who apparently are both cousins of mine **Jamaica is a small island, ok, so let's get on with this**"
"Must be hard exfoliating that reptilian skin..."
Bahahaha!
~ae
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