Wednesday, June 12, 2019

Wake Me Only In Case Of Death, Or Lunch

A simile is like staying home sick on a Thursday with a fever and a bad headache and then waking up to find out it's Wednesday but everything else is the same and also there's an alligator in the bathroom doing something weird with that toothbrush your Mom gave you.

Last night I had a dream. It was about something important. I remember that part. Somehow I'd removed my hat and one glove, but didn't wake up drooling or howling, and couldn't remember any contents of the dream, which, I understand, is probably what it is like to die, except that when you die you're going in the opposite direction from waking up, and someone else has already removed your hat and both gloves, and replaced your blood with a mysterious synthetic fluid that does not taste right. Doesn't sound like fun.

OK, aside from waking up this morning to find a slug crawling out of my nose, things are mostly back to normal. Except for my bunny slippers. They want another raise.

The first thing I remember after waking up is that I wasn't asleep any more, and then the cat came by to fart in my face. And so on. Another great day is in store. I can feel it from here.

The last thing I remember before waking up was that fruit cups are always too small, and socks are always too tight, and I could use a bath.

The last thing I remember before waking up was that I really need to clean that spaghetti sauce off the wall.

The last thing I remember before waking up was that I was eating my pillow. The chocolate sauce was superb, considering. Even with feathers.

The last thing I remember before waking up was that I'm not actually who I appear to be, or at least I don't think so, at lest most Thursdays. Hey — what day is it again?

The last thing I remember before waking up was that I'm not qualified to be President, no matter what my hair is made of.

The last thing I remember before waking up was that paint remover might not work on the cat, unless he really, really asks for it.

On my pillow little by little waking, suddenly I hear a single cicada cry — at that moment I know I have not died. -- Chi'i-chi (864-937)

Ditto, dude.

 


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See if that helps.
Me? In the market for chocolate sauce without feathers.