June 19th, 2006

Challenger

Dreams

Saturday night I dreamed I was a vagrant in Germany, living out of my 1968 Dodge Coronet 440 which I had had shipped over during my heyday. I was sitting behind the wheel marvelling at my past accomplishments and wondering what had gone so wrong with my life when I found some photographs I had taken so long ago I forgot they existed, yet there they were - a series of blurry photographs I had taken ages ago of Glinda, the Good Witch of the North transforming into the Wicked Witch of the West...all from the perspective of my side-view mirror. They were scandalous as they proved who the Wicked Witch really was, and I had proof, there in my hands. A plain-clothes German polizei reached his hand in my open window and peeled away my Texas inspection sticker and crumbled it up. I didn't need it ever since getting my two Missouri windshield stickers. I jumped out of the car. It was a major I used to know in the Air Force, Major Elsnau. He looked like he'd hit hard times, an alcoholic trying to keep it together. He was a German Inspector now. My '68 Dodge was now a pool-cleaning van, and it was filled with pool-cleaning supplies and some dear friends. We had a good time, visiting and laughing, and trying to organize a heist with Elsnau's help, but he was reluctant. Pretty soon, everyone became disgruntled with me and left, and I sat alone, in my pool-cleaning van, in Germany, getting ready to lay on the floor of the van and go to sleep.

Last night however, I dreamed that this new senior VP of one of our remote sites wanted our Headquarters to install some IT equipment for him. A couple of printers. galinda822 was against the idea, but I wanted to meet with the guy. We drove out to the lake and people were on jet-ski's of varying sizes and operating capabilities having fun in the water, and here comes this guy wearing a suit and tie. He introduces himself to us and we follow him into a cabin's conference room. There are three chairs by a small coffee table, and one by the fireplace. As Manager, I choose the chair directly in front of him, so we can talk terms, leaving the chair adjacent him for galinda, who tells me, "Fine, I'll sit over here." And she sulks by the fireplace. I had no idea why she was so mad. He wants us to install some printers at his remote site, a wooded area surrounding a lake in Texas. galinda thinks its a horrible idea because one, we're not responsible for installing remote equipment and two, she's afraid we'll ultimately become responsible for it's upkeep...but all I can think of ia riding jet-ski's on the lake in the midst of a wooded area in Texas...But then the lights go dark and we're in a theatre watching a humorous movie about a several cosmopolitan city-slickers trying to survive as they're lost in the woods. It's both endearing and horrifying! I text message galinda who's still sitting by the fireplace in the theatre. The men on the big screen are finally rescued, and taken to a hospital, where I sit among them, one of the victims. We talk amongst ourselves about what went wrong. Soon, however, we get split up, divided, and lost...in this very large hospital. As I take it upon myself to regroup everyone, I slowly begin to panic. But then I find the last person, and instead of bringing him back to the group, we sit and watch a movie in his room. Upon conclusion of the movie, I take him back to the group - who's once again missing! After miles of hallways and twists and turns, I find the group of men. Every one of them lined up against the wall on a gurney wearing a hospital robe, on their knees with their ass in the air, exposed. I walk by ten brown-eyes winking at me thinking, "As soon as I walk into the doctor's office, my asshole will be lined up there with the rest of them." And I sigh with resignation as I walk in.

One, two
One, two
Microphone check
Groove is Strong
It'll break your neck
In two
Or maybe three parts
True to the blood
And straight to the heart.
Quark

Water Buffalo Trace

I think you sell yourself too short. Don't forget that you're also Fatass, the Destroyer.

That reminds me of a story.

The wife was gone for a week or so, visiting her parents in Wichita. Tony and I took a long, holiday weekend and drank quite a bit of Buffalo Trace (Not available in STL) while lounging in the pool.

After a considerable amount, my hefty friend thought he could run (in itself a feat), jump (this I'd never seen), and clear (unthinkable!) the pool. After much deliberation and consideration, I sat on his glasses and crushed them under my fat ass.

Then he made good on his claim:



To watch full-motion video of both of us fat asses jumping into the pool, visit the Water Buffalo Trace website!