beautiful dreamer
You know what's weird? Last night I had a dream about eating a giant pillow, and when I woke up, I was COVERED in marshmallows.
dls
re percussions of impulses
You know what's weird? Last night I had a dream about eating a giant pillow, and when I woke up, I was COVERED in marshmallows.
Have you ever suddenly had a craving for a cheddar cheese bagel? I mean, a craving that comes upon you so holey-spirit-like that you rise up and shake off the doldrums stuck all over your shirt? A literal thirst for bagels that makes you cry, because bagel juice has not been invented, and only it's sweet tang could ever slake your desire? This is a long way of saying that today, I really wanted a bagel for lunch, so I put on some underwear, walked down the street, and bought one.
I came across my "Tips for Successful World Domination," written when I was twelve and addressed to me, which is very scary -- one, as a child, I thought it might be important to have a list of reminders for my eventual ascension as the ruler of a planet -- and two, I managed to forget that I once had schemes to enslave humanity. Also, check out tip number one -- I don't know if Oedipus is a harbinger, but I'm officially a little creeped out.
Well, it has been a virtual four-score since I last heard from Drake, my vampire roommate. Since his trip to visit the homeless who live underneath the New York subway system, I haven't received so much as a postcard written in the blood of his latest victim. I have been thinking of putting up "missing person" fliers, but I don't have any photographs of him. Let's just say that it is easier to steal the soul of an African tribesman than to catch a vampire on film. Plus, I doubt it would do any good, since Drake is in New York, and I can't throw a flier folded into a paper airplane that far.
Well, I painted a series of concentric rings on the inside of Oedipus' doggie bowl. It's a long way from Clint Eastwood shooting down a man sentenced to death by hanging, but since I've heard that animals kill almost exclusively for food (once in a while to impress hot dames), I figure that when we hit the range, Oedipus won't have any trouble summoning up his kibble-lust when he sees the targets. Adding the gun to the equation is going to be tricky though. Dogs solve most of their problems by biting. Or humpng.
Considering our close encounter with the carjacked bank robber, and the gang of children who really-really wanted ice cream, I realize that there is no other option -- Oedipus is going to have to learn to use a gun. He may think it is a fun game to be a guard dog, but it is completely unfair to make him fight crime while naked. Batman's costume may leave frighteningly little to the imagination (picture George Clooney's womanly nipples), but at least he has a utility belt and a mask to hide his shame.
A breakthrough in training! Oedipus, the chihuahua-great-dane mix breed I have been training as a guard dog, foiled his first real burglary today! His exercise regimen consisted of my throwing bacon strips on small children who wandered away from their parents (they are a good starting size -- not too fast, and they won't fight back), but I was getting worried, because kids were beginning to avoid our street, and Oedipus still seemed to need a lot more practice.
Today, I watched Oedipus lunge for a piece of pineapple that dropped on the floor. He acted as though it was a steak, and he was the canine-equivalent of a hungry cheetah. Dogs will put anything in their mouths that drops from their master's hands -- of course, maybe they are just worried about the five-second rule. They don't know shit about how bacteria work. They don't know about mitosis, or DNA, or that evil pigs are responsible for the Asian Bird Flu. They just get there as fast as they can while silently counting to five. But dude, pineapple. Even the hairless tropical jumping dogs of Western Fiji don't eat pineapple in the wild. Why, Oedipus, did you want it? You knew it was a pineapple -- with the wonder-schnozz that you have, you could work as a bomb-sniffer, drug-sniffer, panty-sniffer, whatever job ends in sniffer, you wouldn't even need a list of references. I don't know.
Oh man, I haven't thought about Spacemen 3 in so long, but hey, you never know what will jog your memory.