In my closet is the second best dream ever

I seem to have two bloggerspherical writing prompts to do at the same time. The finish the sentence Friday was due yesterday, but due to family, a little insanity, a dash of depression, and the kids playing PBS games on the computer, I didn't finish it until today, but tomorrow is the Sunday Confessions one, so I'm putting both into one post somehow. I'm multitasking.

Finish the sentence Friday wants a VLOG, yes a vlog, on the best dream ever.
Sunday Confessions: What's in your closet?

I don't vlog. I've been wanting to vlog. I took a broadcasting class once, so I want to put those mad skillz to good use, though I got a D in the class and it was ole school editing with VCRs. But I did this awesome commercial of my sister wearing an old peasant's dress running through the back yard at night, stopping, sighing, and then voice over tape whispered, "Obsession. By Calvin Klein." It was awesome.

So this video kind of sucks. I mean you really could skip it if you want. Best intro ever.


Other dream posts on my blog can be found here...

MY OLD DREAM POSTS


But there is one best dream ever that's also a confession--a skeleton I hide in my closet. I've been dreaming about some guy from high school since 1996ish. Some of them are psychic, like I hadn't seen him from high school graduation until Facebook, and somewhere in between all that, I dreamt that he got engaged. I found out from Facebook years later, the timing of that dream was exactly in the right time period of his engagement. There were a couple others like that.

Our dreams are usually rated G. We found the lost city of Atlantis. We defeated the aliens twice. Yes. That's right. We evaded alien invasion twice. You're welcome. I also helped him escape from the Looney Bin and Prison. There have been several occasions where we are running, and because he's all in shape rock climbing hiking 20 plus miles and I'm me, he usually picks me up and carries me because I run too slow. We also usually argue about who drives. He always has to drive... I've had a lot of dreams about him, it would be difficult to tell you all of them, but one of my favorites...

We were somehow killed at our royal wedding, and our ghosts are roaming about together. We are in this old mansion and we are spying on the dude that killed us. So at some point, we switch rooms, but going through the wall wasn't like just going through the wall. It was actually entering this dark long endless tunnel. So dreamlover wants me to follow him down this hall, and he extends his hand all romantical, and scared shitless of spiders and rats and cob webs and whatever could lurk in the darkness, I grab his hand. After walking some, he asked why I wouldn't let go, and I was like "it's so dark in here this way I know you are still with me." 

Well then it somehow was romantic, like we had this romantic conversation or something as we were walking and when we found the wall we wanted to come out of, we flew out the wall like falling on each other. Then we kinda start making out but he's like, "I have a problem." and I'm like I know bad timing but dammit this IS our honeymoon is it not?  Apparently, there are certain appendages you don't get to take with you at your death... 

So we are trying to get our way back to our bodies. We approach this gymnasium, maybe high school maybe not, but anyway, I start roller skating. He's talking about how we are miles and miles away from where we need to be like we could be walking all night. Then I realize, wait, I just made rollerskates appear out of no where on my feet. Like this must be an after death superpower. What else can I make? And boom, I make a really cool rocket ship. I was like dude, you are driving. So we jump in the rocket ship and he flies us back to our wedding. Landing was a lot like falling and really fun actually.

The wedding is empty. Nobody is there. In the middle of a garden, we see our bodies in this white convertible in the back seat, he in a tux and me in my really poofy ugly wedding dress, like I really expected the dream state of myself to have picked something more sophisticated and functioning than a poofy girly always in the way wedding dress. So then the driver, Bruno, walks in the area and was on the cell phone with the guy who killed us. I guess he poisoned our champagne. According to Bruno, we weren't quite dead yet. Bruno was still told to bury us anyway. So Bruno walks off to get the garbage bags and shovel and stuff, and we are flipping out trying to decide how to save ourselves.

I'm thinking maybe if we haunt Bruno, he'll get scared and run off to give us more time. Then I was thinking maybe if we haunted a friend and somehow got the message to them to come get us and take us to the ER, but then I was thinking that could take days and we don't have that kind of time. So then, I got this brilliant idea. I made the rocket ship and us really small, like microscopic small, and we went into my blood stream and forced the poison out. [Obviously, I watch the Magic School Bus].  So then I'm alive, and somehow all I had to do was suck the poison out of dreamlover as if a snake had bit him and he was back. So we drive off in the convertible just as Bruno was returning. Dreamlover was driving and I think he aimed for Bruno on our way out.

We realize the car probably has GPS in it, so we have to dump it somewhere, but the dude that tried to kill us, mind you he was a tall slender man with dark hair and one of those mustaches you can't trust, well he was like the prime minister or something, like he had all this power like CIA and shit would be looking for us.  We didn't want to stash it where there would be innocent people who could get hurt, especially children. We find an abandoned insurance agency (I believe it was an Allstate building) and park the car there. It was like 10 blocks away from down town where there would be all these area businesses thriving, but around it was only an old church a block away, and being in my wedding gown and these stupid 4 inch spiked heels, I couldn't run far in those. So we grab our luggage out the trunk and headed over to the church.

There was an old lady there keeping up with the church, and I go and change into normal clothes. By the time I'm done, like minutes, there is a group of vehicles approaching ours and we can see out the window that the dude that killed us was with them. So we are totally freaking out thinking we have a matter of minutes before they find us at the church. The old woman explained to us that this church was one of the places that housed slaves trying to escape back in the civil war days and there were still hidden tunnels in the basement for which we could escape. So as we are heading out that way, I had a brilliant idea. I told dreamlover to go without me because there was something I had to do.

I grab the church's computer and get on my facebook and tell everyone the details of who killed us, who helped, how he did it, and that he was still trying to get us someone please inform the King and Queen on our behalf. Then I click post, and run off to try to catch up to dreamlover who was waiting on me even though I told him to go without me. So we enter another dark and mysterious tunnel where again he extends his hand to guide me and as we were running through it and I'm imagining where we are going to pop out, as I'm thinking pretty scenery in the woods somewhere, I wake up.

My dreams are usually unusual like that. I once killed vampires in a lake of cheese. I fought WWII planes from a row boat after a bear got stuck in the freezer we kept in the middle of the woods. I have a thriller dream I need to post someday that would make a good movie...

Dreamlover is my deepest darkest secret. He's the skeleton in my closet. Literally. One of the things I keep in there is a little black box with his soul and his shrine. I'm kidding. I do keep a letter he wrote me in there away from the reach of children. Would you throw that away? 

Also in my closet, I keep a bunch of old shoes, dirty laundry including the dry clean only bin I want to forget exists, clothes, old hand bags, the logs and rocks from the fire place (apparently those are choking hazards, don't ask), and an autograph football from Ken Anderson (don't worry, NOBODY has heard of him). It's almost like a shrine of my past but with a more stalkery feel about it.

This isn't my most interesting blog post ever, but you know, some days the vampires suck out my creativity and I'm left with this.

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You can also find me under these rocks...

What might actually be another psychic dream about the next Expendables...

So I had this dream I'm going to be in the next Expendables movie, and I'm driving in a car with Sylvester Stallone behind me in the back seat and Bruce Willis next to me in the Passenger seat. There were other people there but I don't know who they were.

I'm on the interstate driving, and everyone is asleep except Bruce who is totally hitting on me. This was the conversation...

Me: Dude, for real, I can't decide between you and Sylvester. You are supposed to let the internal passion stuff build as we flirt in acting and stuff for like days before actually releasing it into hot amazing sex. Duh.

Bruce: So are you really going to pick Sly over me?

Me: He was Rocky.

Bruce: So what? I was John McClane.

Me: Good point.

Bruce: You really need to think about what you could be missing out on. I am not as old looking as Sly. People would think we belong together.

Me: You know when I developed little crushes on you guys, I never thought I'd actually meet one of you let alone both of you at the same time. It's just not fair. Thank God John Cena and Channing Tatum aren't going to be in this film.

Bruce: Well John Cena actually already has a small part. We are thinking of adding Channing to the team this movie. He's still thinking about it.

Me: Really? Fuck me. You both might just lose me to Channing.

Bruce: That's so superficial of you. You have known him how long?

Me: Can I not just be a whore and hump all of you?

Bruce: No. You have to decide.

Me: Is this why celebrities always have fucked up relationships? Like Brad loves Angelina, but he also loves Jennifer...

Bruce: Exactly.

Me: If it weren't for the paparazzi, I could so totally get away with humping all you guys. Fecking Paparazzi could kill a wet dream...

Then I woke up.


If you haven't already read it... Roundhouse Bitch is a blog post of reasons Sylvester should choose me to be his love interest in the next Expendables.

Roundhouse Bitch

Why Sylvester Stallone should choose me to play the role of his girlfriend in the next Expendables if they do another one, which they should:

1.  My father raised me to watch movies like Rocky, Rambo, Cobra, Tango and Cash... as well as Invasion USA, Delta Force, Missing in Action... and the Die Hards (and everything Bruce Willis was in including Breakfast of Champions which I didn't understand at all because I don't smoke crack), and whatever movies Van Damme was in including Bloodsport. I've probably seen all those movies at least 100 times.

Here we are about to kiss... look at the chemistry!!!

2.  I keep having a recurring dream where I'm the love object of the next Expendables, and my dreams are usually psychic.

3.  I also had a dream where I was on a date with Sylvester Stallone. I was like, "You want to watch a movie?" and he was like, "Anything but Rocky," and I was like, "How about Rambo?" He was like, "I'm going to the kitchen." So I go in to the kitchen with him, we both grab for the same knife at the same time and we kiss. It was awkward because I thought I was too inexperienced for him, so now I have to kiss him in real life to prove to him I am not too inexperienced, I know what I'm doing, and it's the best gotdammed kiss he'll ever have in his whole freaking life.

4.  I'm funny. In the dream I just had, Sylvester was like, "Honey, this might get dangerous," and I was like, "Please, I have children, nothing scares me." And, there was a part where Bruce Willis was like, "If you fuck up this job, I'm going to find you, beat you to death, and then I'm going to resuscitate you back to life so I can kill you again." And I was like, "Or even worse, I'll have you babysit my kids and I'll send them to YOUR place with legos, whistles, glitter and silly string right after feeding them Cajun food with beans and fun dip." We could even use one of my kids' dirty diapers as a weapon.

5.  I'll surprise dry hump Bruce Willis when he isn't looking.

6.  My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. I have nice boobs. I mean that's important considering the target market. Apparently, these puppies were famous in high school. I had no idea until dudes 20 years later started telling me about them on Facebook (as well as some random dudes at the grocery store). I stare at them a lot in the mirror, but for many years, I thought that was just me being vain.

7.  I kind of look like Adrian. Not really, but I have brown hair and can be a total hottie nerd.

8.  I am an Air Force veteran (cough cough like Chuck Norris). I don't have to fake the PTSD part of my character, and I can do my owns stun... well I can aggressively file paperwork. There's a script isn't there? That's paperwork. I'll rock it.

9.  I'm double jointed, meaning I can do some cool kicks and splits and stuff. Wait a minute, this is me trying to be a girlfriend in a movie, not real life, well disregard.

10.  I cried during Rambo II (the speech at the end) and Chuck Norris's Delta Force 1 (the part with the cheesy music, wait, should be more specific huh, where the Jews get called to the front of the plane, the concentration camp tattoo, the woman who reminds me of my grandma, the cabbage patch doll, the priest...) Rambo II, tears. Uncontrollable tears. Especially when I was pregnant. BUT I didn't cry during the Titanic or the Notebook. I did cry over an episode of Oprah once, but in my defense, I was pregnant and ate an entire pie in one sitting.

11.  My father might actually come back from the grave to see it.

12.  I took down a Marine once, and it's quite possible I'm the only Air Force chick that has managed to do such a thing. I actually did some Jet Li moves I think when I did, like I flipped off this table and everything. All the other Marines were calling me Devil Dog. Basically, I'm a bad ass in real life too. Just don't ask me to do it again because I don't think I can.

13.  I have Rocky's theme song and Eye of the Tiger as top plays when working out.

14.  I am a rebel type, but in a mainstream sheeple sort of way, like in high school, people thought I was kissing a teacher's ass all morning during announcements, but really what happened was the teacher caught me and my friend sneaking liquor in our coffee and instead of being all "you are expelled," he was all, "let me have some." Then somehow, it accidentally became a morning ritual for us. I listen to Metallica and Ice Cube. That's rebel.

15.  I am a bitch. This makes for a great character who kills people. The meanest people I have ever in my life encountered, I mean meaner than drill sergeants and high-maintenance girl bullies, meaner than the 1976 Steeler's Defense, the meanest people I have ever had the pleasure to do business with, the public school administration and the PTA. Let's just say, they fear me. Like one time, there was a "fundraiser," which is a word the PTA uses for whoring out children into selling overpriced junk and compete like used car salesmen for time at the bouncy party. My child's PTA had it set up, you had to sell one item to get a half hour at the party, 10 items to attend the entire party. We are talking 600 children sharing one bouncy thing. I objected to it. Called it child abuse. Told them my kid will be at Chuck E. Cheese that day and the absence will be excused without a doctor's or parent's note. So, they decided to let my child's class have a couple hours on the bouncy thing when nobody else was using it, the whole class, including those who didn't sell one item... all because I'm not just a bitch, but I'm queen bitch. You should see me own the parking lot during the after school cluster fuck of chaos.

16.  I have a thing for pilots. Sylvester is a pilot in the movie. eHarmony couldn't do a better job.

17.  I know the age thing might be an issue, but the important thing is Sylvester Stallone aged well, and I haven't, so we look the same age. He's also younger than my father, barely, and that's what matters.

This is a picture of the first time
I never met him.

18.  I'm a libra. Nuff said.

19.  I know how to get my own coffee, so that's like money saved on assistants and shit.

20.  I will do it for almost free, like almost free means paying for the travel and partial living expenses (a nanny) and Chuck Norris shows me how to do the roundhouse kick, without killing me in the process. Ok, Chuck doesn't have to show me any secrets. I really just want a kissing scene with Sylvester (I have something to prove, see #3).

21.  I'm not an actress and I have stage fright.

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I'd also like to request that my character spits on people's foreheads before she kills them like the Outlaw Jose Wales, but since I can't spit without dribbling all over myself, we'll have to get a stunt double for the spitting.

I also require Peanut Butter to be present in my trailer because the Beach Boys require such a thing in theirs, and the Beach Boys are awesome. And how do I know this about the peanut butter? Play the video...

My Zombie Apocalypse Experience

I had this awful, vivid dream last night. I was debating on even posting about it at all to begin with. I ended up posting it on Insane in the Mom-Brain's Facebook page because she's into this sort of thing, but then I decided by the time I finished, it could be a blog post, and it's worthy of coming back to in the future to read. So I'm blogging it too.

Well while Insane in the Mom-Brain was busy getting famous with Yo Flakes (talking snow flakes who didn't melt, like the California Raisins but snowy), I was killing zombies. It was like I was a character in a bad movie that had a never ending supply of sequels to it. I think I just put in 5 years of service here in one night.


My first zombie apocalypse team was the Scooby Doo team. None of them made it. Fred was the first to die actually, and Velma was the last. Shaggy and Scooby did die together.

My second team was a bunch of students and an old pastor from a church. The football player who wanted to join the Marine Corps was the only one to make it. He was really dumb, but he had a big heart. It was really sad too because there was this little strawberry blond girl in love with a black boy, and he loved her but they were broken up and didn't get back together because they are stupid teenagers too scared to talk about it. I got really close to that girl before she disappeared. The boy didn't make it when his twin brother showed up and started beating him up right in the middle of a bunch of zombies. 

Anyway, then, we (football player dude and I) were just loners bouncing from group of people to group of people protecting them and using some of their stuff. 


Few things I learned from this experience. 

1. Zombies smell really bad. Kind of like the smell of the gynecologist's office mixed with a meat packing plant mixed with decaying flesh. Like take the smell of changing your pad on that time of the month and amplify it a thousand times to give you a sense of potency and stench of zombies. Really super gross when you get pieces of zombie on you as you're killing them. Even worse, it's like bleach. You get near it, and the stench sticks to your nose hairs, snot and tastebuds for hours. Nobody wants a zombie apocalypse for this reason alone. Trust. Me.

2. Zombie worms taste better when eaten while they are still alive, but don't let them get in your hair. 

3. The Air Force is an awesome friend in the case of a zombie apocalypse, up until the point they all become zombies. Knowing how to operate their equipment would be a fabulous thing to know, like how to fly a bomber and blow up shit. 

4. You definitely want stuff that can fly. Besides the obvious, crossing bridges full of zombies suck. Fly over the terrain.

5. A time machine is also useful. While you will send your own family back in time to a safer place, you will still go time traveling to try to find out what started the whole thing and try to stop it for your future generations.

6. Every time it rains or snows, shit always happens. 

7. Never trust the old minister. They are the first to go insane, like we are all going to die anyway let's get maniacal about it and make people die insane.

8. I think I might of gotten the 2 year old's dream last night by accident and that scares me that she might have dreams like this. 

9. I'd very much rather kill noravirus and Christmas mess than zombies. I have a new found respect for boring.

10. If there was ever a zombie apocalypse, I will never survive the mental stress unless my main goal is to chase and kill them as opposed to run from them. 

11. Most teenagers in my dream seemed to be more upset that they were running out of marijuana than they were about the zombies trying to eat them, and that makes me sad because I think it would be that way in real life. 

12. Never forget to fill up gas during daylight hours.

13. Speaking of gas, dreams about zombies give me gas. Wretched, crampy painful gas.

My super crazy violent sex dream about Obama

This was my post today on my friend's Facebook page. I don't want it to get lost in a newsfeed, like I want to be able to find it again and read it again another day, so I'm blogging it too.

Warning, it's crazy.... It was one of those dreams that eventually morphed where the whole thing changes and I'm not sure how. But the beginning part I was Obama's girlfriend. He and I would sneak off into rooms and it was just assumed naughty things happened though they didn't actually happen. Most of the dream was us two flirting very badly with each other, like think of the cheesiest pick up lines imaginable, and we were using that. 

Then these women, big burly women with incredibly long hair, 3 of them, they looked like the wicked step sister off of Shrek, including man voices, well they started shooting at everyone. No one was injured. I helped this old lady maid on the basement sneak people up a bunch of flights, like the White house had like 37 floors to it in my dream, to a different floor, a safe floor, through some secret maid thing in the public bathroom, like a laundroshoot going down to a public bathroom. 

Then I found Barack and he and I fled the scene for his protection, like I was his secret service body guard. I'm trying to find some weapon to have because secret service bodyguards usually carry weapons right? We were somewhere on a street in a building getting ready for a press conference about the violent women when it dawned on me, there's an Army Guard Armory across the street. 

So we go over there so I can obtain an M16. I tell the dude I'm a vet and with Presidential orders, he hands me an M16 and I request 5 mags and some ammo. He's like "really? 5 mags to shoot 3 targets? And you think you'd qualify with that?" I'm like "Dude, give me a break. It's been years since I've been in and I have to pee." Then I looked at Obama and was like, "Would it by any chance affect our friendship whatsoever if you were aware that I totally peed myself just to hit the bad guys?" He's like, "No it wouldn't in the slightest." Isn't he nice? Then it dawned on me, they had a bathroom in the armory, so I grabbed the 5 mags to fill in the bathroom while I went. They were like, "You still need 5?" I was like, "I'm about to pee like Austin Powers after a deep freeze, I need something to do." 

So then I fill them up, I go on the street and find a great position because I knew the bad crazy manly women were about to turn the corner. I lay down on my tummy because I shoot best from that position. 

Then the dream skips forward where it totally turned around and I'm talking to the media. I did save the day I guess. But the media wasn't interested in that. They were interested in my relationship with Obama. I was swearing we didn't have anything shy of a professional relationship. Then I was like "Think about it people. You are so quick to assume things. Who have I been cooking with? Gardening with? Helping her pick out her clothes for every major function? My romantic relationship was not with Barack, but Michelle the whole time. Duh." 

Then it was a big deal, like is it actually cheating for two married women to be together? Where's the line drawn with "best friends?" 

That was my dream. I hope the secret service finds this message, reads it to the President, and they all laugh and invite me to some major event that's invite only where I can meet these people, just for the awkwardness now. Since that won't happen, I hope you laugh because I woke up LMAO.