Save the Tiny Turtles!
I know I shouldn't do this cause a lot of people could care less about what other people dream and I honestly wouldn't do it, except for it was just a little too creepy, the things going on in my head while sleeping, to not discuss...
So, last night I had one of the strangest dreams I've had in quite some time...considering I don't generally sleep. I'm think last night's strangeness can be attributed to the fact that right before bed I got hungry and ate some leftover lasagna and garlic bread (yes, I brushed afterwards) and the fact that I have been watching entirely too much sci-fi programming, namely 'Battelstar Galactica', for my own good [BTW: 'Scar' from mid-second season is hands-down my favorite episode of the series, followed very closely by season 1's '33', but please keep in mind I am still trying to dowload the rest of season two, so I have yet to see it].
Anyway, it was a tripod assembleage (Me, BEG and KP) on some sort of cruise ship (actual cruise ship...c'mon, we can't all live or live in our dreams, on the battlestar, although said cruise ship was capable of air travel...but not space travel). We were packing shit up (this could be because BEG has been weeding out her undersirable clothes, which is something I need to get to myself before my closet takes over). I was also seemingly suffering from some serious shoe-loss paranoia and I kept going through my shoe collection (yes, it is a collection) to make sure every shoe was present and accounted for. I suppose that Walter (my white Angora) can be blamed for that one seeing as how he recently chewed my favorite red strappy shoes to bits while I wasn't paying attention. Little bastard!
For the most part, this is all relatively normal. All things that can be blamed on some other curcumstance in my reality-based existence piling up in my head and getting to me when I sleep. However, here comes the strangeness...
For the entire duration of the dream I was either carrying around a dish of six, tiny turtles (you know, the ones you can't buy anymore cause the government is just as afraid of Salmonella as BEG-Sorry BEG!), or carrying the dish or tiny turtles around trying to save said turtles. This was all because every time I put the damned dish down, my dog would appear out of nowhere (Angus, the gigantic Golden Retreiver) , knock the dish over and start chewing on the poor turtles. Then there would be some screaming for hubby (these would be the only times he was present in the dream) and rescue of the turtles...which survived every single chew attack. Boy those little buggers were resilliant.
The entire tripod was a mission to save 6 tiny chewed on turtles. This is not something we have ever done or even spoken of (except for that one time when that wayward turtle wandered into my yard and we all thought the vulcan brought it to me) in reality. In the dream I kept taking them to the kitchen staff of the cruise ship for fixing (Probably not the best plan with the kitchen staff and all) and they kept wanting me to get KP to fix their computer, although the woman with the broken computer was the woman that played the blonde nurse married to Aaron on 'Chicago Hope'...a show I haven't seen in like a millenia.
Nevertheless, we built a suitable tiny turtle habitat, complete with faux trees and...Phat Boys Die-cast cars (I do collect these...cause they're adorable...and flat).
I literally woke up with a WTF? sort of feeling. The tripod doesn't save tiny turtles, especially tiny turtles no one is even allowed to legally possess anymore. Savin' the tiny turtles really isn't our thing.
If we had been out drinking in my dream and possibly taunting young waiter boys or taking an impromptu trip to the very non-local porn store or even perhaps had been using a disposable camera found in BEG's backseat to take pictures of a bloody, dead animal strategically placed on the sidewalk, I would have said, "Sounds like us." Hence not the case and now I'm wholly disturbed.
BTW: Check out http://paranormalstories.blogspot.com the renter on Eric's Panic Blog. She put of my tale of ghostly occurances and some pictures I submitted
So, last night I had one of the strangest dreams I've had in quite some time...considering I don't generally sleep. I'm think last night's strangeness can be attributed to the fact that right before bed I got hungry and ate some leftover lasagna and garlic bread (yes, I brushed afterwards) and the fact that I have been watching entirely too much sci-fi programming, namely 'Battelstar Galactica', for my own good [BTW: 'Scar' from mid-second season is hands-down my favorite episode of the series, followed very closely by season 1's '33', but please keep in mind I am still trying to dowload the rest of season two, so I have yet to see it].
Anyway, it was a tripod assembleage (Me, BEG and KP) on some sort of cruise ship (actual cruise ship...c'mon, we can't all live or live in our dreams, on the battlestar, although said cruise ship was capable of air travel...but not space travel). We were packing shit up (this could be because BEG has been weeding out her undersirable clothes, which is something I need to get to myself before my closet takes over). I was also seemingly suffering from some serious shoe-loss paranoia and I kept going through my shoe collection (yes, it is a collection) to make sure every shoe was present and accounted for. I suppose that Walter (my white Angora) can be blamed for that one seeing as how he recently chewed my favorite red strappy shoes to bits while I wasn't paying attention. Little bastard!
For the most part, this is all relatively normal. All things that can be blamed on some other curcumstance in my reality-based existence piling up in my head and getting to me when I sleep. However, here comes the strangeness...
For the entire duration of the dream I was either carrying around a dish of six, tiny turtles (you know, the ones you can't buy anymore cause the government is just as afraid of Salmonella as BEG-Sorry BEG!), or carrying the dish or tiny turtles around trying to save said turtles. This was all because every time I put the damned dish down, my dog would appear out of nowhere (Angus, the gigantic Golden Retreiver) , knock the dish over and start chewing on the poor turtles. Then there would be some screaming for hubby (these would be the only times he was present in the dream) and rescue of the turtles...which survived every single chew attack. Boy those little buggers were resilliant.
The entire tripod was a mission to save 6 tiny chewed on turtles. This is not something we have ever done or even spoken of (except for that one time when that wayward turtle wandered into my yard and we all thought the vulcan brought it to me) in reality. In the dream I kept taking them to the kitchen staff of the cruise ship for fixing (Probably not the best plan with the kitchen staff and all) and they kept wanting me to get KP to fix their computer, although the woman with the broken computer was the woman that played the blonde nurse married to Aaron on 'Chicago Hope'...a show I haven't seen in like a millenia.
Nevertheless, we built a suitable tiny turtle habitat, complete with faux trees and...Phat Boys Die-cast cars (I do collect these...cause they're adorable...and flat).
I literally woke up with a WTF? sort of feeling. The tripod doesn't save tiny turtles, especially tiny turtles no one is even allowed to legally possess anymore. Savin' the tiny turtles really isn't our thing.
If we had been out drinking in my dream and possibly taunting young waiter boys or taking an impromptu trip to the very non-local porn store or even perhaps had been using a disposable camera found in BEG's backseat to take pictures of a bloody, dead animal strategically placed on the sidewalk, I would have said, "Sounds like us." Hence not the case and now I'm wholly disturbed.
BTW: Check out http://paranormalstories.blogspot.com the renter on Eric's Panic Blog. She put of my tale of ghostly occurances and some pictures I submitted
3 Comments:
And I thought this was going to be about the 6 hours of downloading that turned into 2 days!
BTW: I think you are thinking of the turtles because the concrete is cracked and you have to call the Vulcan.
At least Jamie Bamber wasn't singing the Mary Poppin's songbook or Food, Glorious Food from Oliver Twist!
It's always nice to know that I sound more manly than he does! I swear, if I call the vulcan and somehow end up entrusted with a dish of six tiny turtles to care for, or any turtles for that matter, I'm roundin' up the whole gang (gettin' the band back together) and we're kickin' it 'Springer' style! I think the downloads thing is gonna be the next post as they still have yet to finish. I'm so close to ep. 13, I can feel the pain!
too dam cute!!!
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