Because there's no such thing as too much cheese. Unrolling the braciole of consciousness; shaping the meatball of life. Because everything is funny; you just need to view it from the proper angle. Good for cats. Made in Poland. Because everything is like a hat. You know how those gorillas can be... Very unforgiving.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Over the years we've covered the topic of strange dreams, as we did here. And here. And here.
Here's one I had back in 1992. I was trying to explain it to Mojo the other night but couldn't remember the details. Fortunately, I wrote it down (!) because... well, I don't know why I wrote this down.
I was in Mexico. The Chinese Red Army stood at the ready across the Rio Grande from where I stood. (Yeah, that would mean the Chi-coms had taken the continental U.S. -- this did not occur to me in the dream.)
Anyway, they told me (from the across the river?) that I'd have to leave. They seemed strangely American and each was not dressed in a karate gee. I knew my rights, and demanded to be able to make my one phone call -- to my lawyer, Professor Xavier. Unfortunately I did not know the number. So I dialed 411 and hoped that wouldn't count as my one call. The operator came on and was about to give me the number when I panicked, realizing I had no pen or paper. Then I remembered that Clark Kent was in my entourage. I quickly handed the phone to him because somehow it made perfect sense to me that his superpowers included memorizing phone numbers (but not necessarily evading the Chinese Red Army).
Well, there it is. Wacky, sure. But no one had to die to make cheese.