OH MY GOD IT'S THE LONGEST ENTRY EVER
So. Both Sam (the pomeranian) and Sister Girl are sick. Sam has a hacking cough (we thought at first he'd chewed up something and caught it in his throat, but no, the vet says he has actual sinus drainage. Which reminds me, did I ever tell you the story about ( barf barf sob barf )
The worst, though...I was making out with my boyfriend in a dream, which was awesome. In my dream I thought, "It's the boyfriend...so not cheating! This will happen! WOO!" Things were progressing smoothly, and we were just about to get down to brass tacks when there was a knock on the door and then...
DICK CHENEY burst into the room. Wearing a small black leather thong. Pulling Lynn Cheney behind him. And he thought what we were doing was awesome, and totally wanted to join in.
And then, my brain yanked me from a lovely makeout dream into a horrible nightmare where I had to explain to the creepass Vice President why I did not want to have a foursome with him and his wife, and my boyfriend snuck out the back door, and I kept trying to get the Cheneys to leave but they wouldn't...it was horrible. And when I woke up I was so incredibly angry at my brain. SO MAD.
On the other hand, I tell this story all the time because traumatizing others is totally the up-side to the worst dream ever.
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(Did I mention the big leather X straps across his chest? And that he was clearly looking for some really kinky activities? And I don't know why he thought my apartment was the place to make that happen, but oh god. It's a great story, but every time I tell it there's a part of me that stands aside shaking a fist at my subconscious. Three years or so later, and I'm still traumatized.)
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