I don’t even know if that IS (was?) a clam. But it doesn’t look too happy to me.
I’m happy as a clam this morning.
Which is to say, I’m as crabby as a shellfish.
Because I think I sprained my spine last night, trying to golf in my sleep. Which is ridiculous. (It takes me 17 hours to complete a round of mini-golf, after all.) And if I’m gonna be whacking balls, I don’t require a golf club to do so. However, a dream is a dream is a nightmarish dream. So not only did I play golf in my dream; I rode a bus first. And buses? Not a fan. Also, there was a purple-clad nun on the bus who had about as much Jesus in her as a feral cat looking for its next mouse fix. Which is to say, the ‘nun’ was the devil incarnate. Needless to say, Sister Suk Yu Bus and I had a minor altercation before disembarking to go swing our clubs. (Thank God she wasn’t part of my foursome. *Shudder*)
So, to recap: bus, nun, golf, sprained spine. And let me tell you, a sprained spine is no fun at all. I think I need therapy. Of the physical variety. Because if there’s one way to cure a sprained spine, it’s by getting physical. Which means I need to remember where I put my new bottle of lube…
Oh! And in my dream, there was a line. And I was waiting in it. I *hate* waiting in line. Hate. It.
Admittedly, when I first woke up (at 3:41 this morning, thankyouverymuch), I was a bit concerned about the meaning of this dream, especially because (1) I’m not Catholic, and (2) my experience with swinging clubs has nothing to do with golf.
But now, after further contemplation, I think my dream’s message was crystal clear: Purgatory is real. (Regardless of what the Pope has to say on the subject.) And it’s located someplace between a bus and a golf course.
Also, I think yesterday’s post (oh, just click it…you know you want to!) is stuck in Purgatory.
Which is neither here nor there.
Literally.
SO.
My weekend is off to a rockin’ start.
Just thought I’d share.
Well at least you weren’t attacked by turnips. People think my writing is inane, they have no idea how weird my dreams are. And no matter how weird the situation you always buy into the scenario. Now I’ve got Nuns and the “Purple People Eater” running around in my head.
Wild
Hmmm… So you’re saying your Purple People Eater has nuns on the run…? Makes a nice change from rabid vegetables, that’s for sure. 😉
I must like inanity, my friend. I enjoy reading your ramblings. 🙂
And even turnips have purple tops. ):
Lesdyksia kicking in 🙂 instead of ):
Ha! That’s okay, Les. I just thought ): was an unhappy clam. 😉
Hmm…Bus, Nun, waiting in a long line and golf? Oh Daniel, what can be be the meaning of this dream? (at least there wasn’t a finger writing on the wall…LOL!!!) I don’t know but, I would remember what I ate the night before and wouldn’t touch it again. 🙂
Hmmm… I think I ate a veggie burger for dinner the night before my trip to Purgatory. And popcorn later that evening. I also had coleslaw with dinner though, so maybe that’s the problem. You’d think I’d have ingested an eggplant though, what with the hideous purple the nun was wearing.
(Insert pause here while I dwell on the deliciousness of the palate-pleasing Eggplant Parmesean…)
And when I dream of fingers, they are too busy pleasuring my body to be writing on walls. 😛
I think you are both versitile and inspiring! And I probably want to do sordid and obscene things to your most sensitive parts.
Its really just an award I think you are due…
http://wistfulsinner.wordpress.com/2013/01/20/well-fuck-me/