Monday Night Mental Chex Mix

  • Today has seen some remarkably odd mental activity, and I’d feel better if it stopped.
  • To amend that, I do NOT want all mental activity to cease–just the weird stuff.
  • First off, I had a really odd dream.  I was asked to put new, low-profile tires onto this kid’s VW Bug.  They were bicycle tires, and really rotten ones at that.  I told him I was unable to.  Turns out, he was the illegitimate son of an NBA player, so I decided to help him.  I went to Wal-Mart and bought two low-profile tires that would fit his Bug, then I took his car to my dad’s mechanic shop and changed them out.
  • Okay.  That’s weird, if only because my dad doesn’t service VW’s in his mechanic shop, mainly because my dad doesn’t HAVE a mechanic shop. 
  • Full disclosure: my first car was a 1965 VW Beetle, and my dad and I used to work on it together, however we didn’t have a hydraulic lift and impact wrench.
  • Also, I’m NOT an NBA player’s love child.  I might be six-four, but my legs would be longer, and I’d be waaaaaaay more coordinated.
  • So that was the normal part of the dream.
  • From there, I went on with my friend Nick, who’s wife has leukemia.  (sadly, the leukemia is real)
  • We had to walk somewhere to take care of a work problem, and we ended up doing crime scene investigation on a prostitute’s murder. 
  • You know, the prostitutes who work out of the public bath house at the forest campground.
  • We got that done, thank goodness, then it was time to ride through a beautiful Tampa night in the back of a company convertible, except that it was a radio station thing and not a function of where Nick and I currently work (or even the crimefighting organization for whom we apparently do CSI)
  • Then I had two different of my Twitter friends make some sort of comment about how much they loved Taylor Swift, only to have another Twitter person (a country duo) post a pic of themselves meeting T-Swift outside a Nashville Starbucks.
  • Okay, the Taylor Swift/Twitter coincidence was not part of the dream.  The dream ended riding through Tampa in the convertible.
  • (btw, I’ve met Taylor Swift.  She was fairly tall and very nice and also holding a hot beverage (although she was getting hot chocolate in the CBS Radio break-room, not purchasing a frappumochasomthing at a Starbucks))
  • And this was fine–all of it!
  • I mean, I can deal with murdered hooker crime scenes.  I can change tires on VW Beetles.  I can ride in convertibles, too, even though I think low-profile tires look dumb on a VW.  I accept that I’m bad at basketball, and that I can only name “Tim McGraw” among T-Swift’s song catalog.
  • But the earworm that got me today? On a song I haven’t heard in decades?? “Get Up and Boogie (That’s Right!),” by Silver effin’ CONVENTION??????
  • That just sucks.
  • Happy Monday.

7 Responses to “Monday Night Mental Chex Mix”

  1. Silver Convention is quite troubling. It may be time for that CAT scan.

    • Oh, Laurie. The troubling thing is that I used to own the 45 of that song. That and “Fly Robin Fly.” Same song, different inane chorus. The CAT scan might be a good idea. 🙂

  2. That’s all fairly entertaining. You and Cranky have interesting dreams; mine are so dull.

    Sorry about the earworm, but OTOH, at least Snotstock is over, right?

    • at least Snotstock is over, right?

      Finally! It’s been 3 weeks, and I think most of the goo has been expelled by now. Then today, one of my coworkers came up and said she’d just gotten “phase two of the virus.” Yuck.

  3. christinaheart Says:

    Crazy dream! Stop eating salami sandwiches before bed!

    My sister is in love. LOVE. with Taylor Swift. It’s kind of scary, actually. I’m sure she’d marry her if she had the chance. This is the only woman my sister would ever marry.

    I’d hate her for it though. I find her songs annoying most days… ‘cept for that “I’m only me when I’m with you” song. That’s my sister and I’s theme song. (I don’t feel like that sentence was grammatically correct… but I’ve no idea how to make it better.)

    • I had a dream once that the Book of Revelations was written after John ate a bunch of Taco Bell Fire Sauce. Whether this is true remains open to conjecture. 😉

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