This morning I thought, "I wonder if anyone would notice if I wore my slippers to work." Then, my mind somehow traveled back in time to 1994 because I found myself singing the tune for ribbon dancers in the shower. "Ribbon dancer, writing on the wall. Ribbon dancer, up and let it fall. Ribbon dancer, having so much fun. Ribbon dancer, gotta get one!" My mind then went to the skip-it. Remember that ole thing? Oh, the early 90s and its crappy toys. Isn't it weird how your mind jumps from one thing to the next? Even when the topics aren't related at all.
Last night I had another vampire dream. People, I am not even watching True Blood at the moment. I think this vampire dream was brought on by an email I received from Netflix. "Dear Doug, Season 4 of Being Human (UK Version) is now available on instant streaming." That made me think of Mitchell the vampire, which evidently caused me to have nightmares. In this dream, my good friend TBo and I were out roaming the streets of Wallace Woods in the wee hours of the morning. We were in costume for some reason. I was dressed as Wonder Woman and all I can remember of TBo's costume was that she had on gold pants and purple rain boots. Anyway, we were dancing down Wallace Avenue when this group of hipsters came passing by. They wanted to dance and sing with us. They were vampires, and they thought we were vampires because of our dancing (yes, I realize this makes no sense).
TBo and I danced on over to my house when we realized that the hipsters we had just met were vampires. Then, we started freaking out because we thought they were going to find out that we were indeed human. We knew they would know we were human because we didn't smell like vampires and because our eyes were not yellow (who knows where this came from). We were scared so we told Doug what had transpired. Doug turned all Reverend Shaw Moore on us and said that we were going to get eaten by the vampires because it was God's will since dancing is a sin only punishable by death (by vampire).
Footloose meets True Blood. I wish you could record dreams, I could make a fortune on the goofy-going-ons in my head.
No comments:
Post a Comment