July 2008

translation:  “I’ll bite your legs off!”


and so begins the journey of an artiste.

i don’t even really want to recap it.  i had an extremely intense dream about being very physical (not exactly sexual) with the only man i feel i ever truly, deeply, passionately loved.  who i can’t have.  who won’t even talk to me anymore.  it felt so real that when i awoke into reality……. ugh, it was just so fucking painful.  i’ll let some Morrissey lyrics do the talking for me now:

Last night I dreamt
That somebody loved me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm

Last night I felt
Real arms around me
No hope, no harm
Just another false alarm

So, tell me how long
Before the last one ?
And tell me how long
Before the right one ?

The story is old – I KNOW
But it goes on
The story is old – I KNOW
But it goes on

And on
Oh, goes on
And on

I was ordering people around in my dreams last night.  I was in a house where a lot of other people lived, sort of like sharing a house during college years.  I “owned” the kitchen, though.  It was my turf.  (IRL this is not surprising at all)  I just just gone food shopping for the house and had put my groceries away.  I was tidying up other stuff and I see one of the house-mates come in carrying a box of salt (kosher, of course) and she puts it in a cabinet where it CLEARLY does not belong (the nerve!).  I stop her and say, “whoa, wait a minute, that doesn’t go there.  let me show you where it goes.” and i open the cabinet where she put the salt and i see that there are also bags of rice and pasta in there where they do not belong!  Argh!  I got all OCD on her and was just flabbergasted, stammering, “who has been in here?!  this is all wrong!!” and I’m dumping bags of rice in her arms and barking at her to help me move it all back to the pantry.  She’s all “what’s a pantry?” and I just about die with exasperation.

Next, I’m on some type of project team that is re-painting this one wall above the fireplace of a building.  It doesn’t feel like the same house as the kitchen dream.  I’ve got a group of people with me and we can’t agree on what to do with the space.  One guy draws some large, colorful almost cartoonish piece on the wall, but when I look closer I can see that he didn’t fully cover up the older artwork that was on the wall previously and I get annoyed that he was so careless in his preparation.  I grab a rag and start scrubbing the wall in between where he painted to try to remove the old pattern without disturbing his new design, but it’s not working.  I tell him we need to erase his work and start from scratch.  He’s okay with that, but then others chime in that maybe we should give the project another thought, so they start gabbing amongst themselves while I walk up and down the fireplace wall taking a closer look at the architecture.  I finally get a great idea to create a layered texture using plaster and paint in different tones of warm yellows, golds and oranges.  It would give it sort of a gradiant look from the bricks of the fireplace and form a nice transitory blend as it crept higher up the wall.  I am trying to explain this to the group but they’re still talking and not giving me their undivided attention.  Argh.

Finally the last dream that I remember was an entirely different feel than the aforementioned, and it was also very brief.  My Nana had died.  I was extremely sad, and I remember saying something like “You never know that the last time you talk to someone will really be the last time”.  I was also a bit happy that she’d gone to be with God because of how old and frail she had become, and how I hated that stinky nursing home she’s been in.  I had found a black and white photograph of her and my mother; they were sitting outside on the brick front steps of an old house.  They were sitting on the bottom few steps, off to the left of the frame, and you could see the front doors to the house behind them, which were squarely in the center of the shot.  They were double doors; white, with large square panes of glass in them, and they looked very old as the white paint was chipping and peeling in places.  My Mom and Nana were sitting next to each other, not looking at the camera and not smiling, but not somber.  It was a beautiful picture.  I took the photograph and put it in a glass frame (one of the type where the print is just floating in the glass without a matte) and I hung it on the wall (not sure where I was exactly).  I was so happy to have that picture to remember my beautiful Nana.

IRL, no such photograph exists, and Nana is still alive but fading away in the nursing home.  I should call her.

i want a pet lion!   this made me all gooey inside.

true story of Christian the Lion:

last night i had a dream that a big, brown, hairy spider was dangling from the ceiling of my bedroom.  I freaked and ran out to find someone to squash it for me.  I found a friend (a girl, no one I know IRL) who came in to rescue me.  By that time the spider had moved and I saw it crawling across my bed and up the wall.  My friend grabbed a small piece of a napkin and squashed it, only she basically just grabbed its fat little body and its long legs were still sticking out, writhing in agony… this sucker was huge, like the size of my hand.  Major creep factor.

MACON, GA—Linens-N-Shit, the nation’s largest retailer of bedsheets, tablecloths, and a wide assortment of other shit, will open its new location Tuesday morning at the Macon Mall.

“We are excited to open our first store in the Macon area, and we encourage shoppers to arrive early and check out all of our great linens and shit,” said Robert Barlow, the company’s senior vice president. “We’re proud to offer the local community the best selection of the name-brand shit you want at the prices you love.”

“We’ve got all sorts of shit,” Barlow added. “Bath shit, kitchen shit, shit for the bedroom, seasonal shit, and all the other shit you could possibly imagine, plus linens.”
Enlarge Image Linens Ad

The store is scheduled to open its doors at 6 a.m. The first 100 customers will receive a bunch of free shit.

The 55,000-square-foot facility features 12 full-service checkout lanes and six express lanes, four kiosks to register shit for important events, and dozens of aisles stacked floor to ceiling with an estimated 650 tons of shit. Kenneth Resch, manager of the Macon store, said that if customers cannot find shit in the right color or size, the shit they need can be located in heaping piles of overstock shit in the Linens-N-Shit warehouse.

“Anything not available at our retail location can easily be purchased from our online store at linensnshit.com,” Resch said. “We’ve got a crapload of shit there.”

Resch, who oversaw the hiring process for the store’s 120 full-time and part-time employees, praised his staff’s friendly and helpful service, as well as its willingness to sort through enormous bins of shit in order to match the right shit to the customer’s needs.

Customers who got a sneak peek at the new store during its silent opening Friday evening were impressed.

“Look at all this great shit!” said Macon resident Joy Anderson, who claims she usually spends an average of $500 a month on linens and other shit. “Whenever we wanted to buy a ton of shit before, we had to go all the way out to the Galleria Mall in Centerville. But now we’ve got all the shit we need right here.”

Although a sluggish market has forced many large-format retailers to scale back their operations and even close locations, Linens-N-Shit insists that the economy will not prevent the store from providing the consumer with superior quality linens, storage and organizational shit, framed crap, and some foreign-made designer bullshit.

“We’ve always had a simple strategy of selling shit and linens to people, and we don’t intend to stop now,” CEO Henry Considine said. “This company has weathered both the credit crisis and the housing-market crash, because no matter how bad the economy gets, consumers will always continue to buy shit.”

In response to the overwhelmingly positive reaction to Linens-N-Shit stores, the company plans to sell excess shit as well as irregular or slightly imperfect crap at their new Shit-N-Shit factory outlets.

From: The Onion

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