In my dream Paris Hilton was dating one of my friends, so I got to talk to her every once in awhile in a non-sexual kind of way. She was telling me about her favorite kind of facial cleanser, and insisting that I recommend it to my customers at the store. I decided that if there was a chance Paris Hilton knew anything about any subject, it might be facial cleanser, so I decided to keep her words in mind.
I wonder if this is the first time "Paris Hilton" and "facial" have been used together to describe cleaning up a mess.
I was then instantly back in Ohio, in the yard of the house I lived in before I moved to California. I realized I was going to be late for work. I checked to see if a tree I planted 11 years ago was still there. The store only had my land line number, not my cell, so they weren't going to be able to call me when I didn't show up on time. I left for work on a lawn tractor going as fast as I could.
A policeman was waiting at a speed trap to pull me over, except he wasn't a real policeman. He was part of a TV reality show that was following his training, and I was to be his first traffic stop. There were prizes that were going to be awarded to me for taking part in the festivities. The prizes made it clear that they were fully expecting that the trainee's first ticketee was going to be a man.
Except I wasn't going to get any prizes. I decided I didn't have to stop since the guy wasn't a real cop. My intent was to just keep going until the state had the courtesy of sending an actual fully credentialed law enforcement officer after me. The last thing I saw were red and blue lights in the rear-view mirror of my old Honda Accord, which the lawn tractor had morphed into.
The lesson to take away from this: Don't mix melatonin with a giant martini, no matter how badly you want to sleep.
6 comments:
Go to Bev'Mo and get some Hendrick's Gin. Small 750cc black squat bottle.
Makes the best martinis ever. Better than sapphire and better than Tang-10
You'll sleep better if you do what I do: take 3x's the recommended dosage of melatonin right before bedtime. That'll do the trick.
You won't dream. You won't move. You'll hardly be able to wake-up - maybe not at all!
hee hee
So I was reading Fark and they had a blurb about Ahmadinajad planning a trip to Iran. And I thought that for someone who our government and media try hard to paint as a mindless dictator he seems to do an awful lot of reaching out to the most unlikely people. It's almost like he's desperate to understand and be understood. So I decided to read his bio page and then I came to the part about him not being convinced of the Holocaust and then I thought someone really needs to introduce him to a person with numbers on their arm and then I thought of your post about the lady with the brain tumor you met who stil had the numbers on her arm and so here I am turning up like a bad penny just to say, I haven't read here for a while, but you really have a good blog and an excellent writing style.
Stop over my place whenever you get a moment. : )
Whenever if have a whacked-out dream like yours, it's a clear signal that I'm just not tried enough before bed and I need more sex.
There are 538,00 pages for Paris hilton facial.
From TAP: Go to Bev'Mo and get some Hendrick's Gin. Small 750cc black squat bottle.
Makes the best martinis ever. Better than sapphire and better than Tang-10
HENDRICKS! THAT'S WHAT I HAD! YUCKKKK. Never. Again.
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