oakenguy

If last night's dream is anything to go by, my response to someone shuffling around outside the bedroom window at night and being all Blair Witch-y is to attach a bungee cord to my shorts and charge the window. Which is a) good, because it did startle the mysterious silhouette who was out there, and b) BAD, in that once I reached the farthest extent of my lunge the bungee didn't actually retract and instead I just sorta dangled there.

This is the point where I managed to wake myself up with a loud "MUHR!", sort of like the sound a cow giving birth makes.

I feel the need to point out that dream-me had been warned about staying in the house by neighbor and old college friend Dick Van Dyke, who since graduating from our alma mater had apparently grown to eight feet high and become a pimp. It was obvious he was a pimp because he was wearing an overcoat in the summertime and had rings that looked like those coral castles you stick in aquariums, but I was too polite to mention it.

I also feel the need to mention that Dick's boss? The one who wanted the house for himself and was trying to drive us out? The Joker. Cesar Romero version, not Heath Ledger (thank god).

And THAT, friends, is why I woke up at 3:30 and didn't go back to sleep until 5:45.