I dreamed ...
that Ashton Kutcher told my husband "never trust a girl willing to tug you off faster than an energetic 1-800 sex-thin."
~
that while walking down a hallway in high school, I flailed my arm up to gesture and accidentally poked (and got my finger stuck in the corner) of Oprah Winfrey's eyeball. She was really calm about it, and after I got my finger out, we decided we both had to pee. She led the way, opened the door to the rest room for me, and I decided to start pre-washing my hands in the sink with mud.
A young boy walked up to me and I shoved him and said, "get away from me!" I heard Oprah gasp and say, "oh my god!" and when I looked up, she was gone. I realized she'd led us into the men's room. She was unapologetic about the mistake. When I found the ladies room, it was full of young women whose hair indicated they'd been napping on the couches in there since the 60s. They languidly refused to let me use a toilet because I wasn't popular enough.
I went back to the men's room, which was now stuffed to death with handsome European soccer players and they were all very nice about showing me to a stall and explaining how to use it, but once the door was closed, I couldn't move because my boobs were suddenly huger than usual. I gave up and went to class where I found myself holding a crayon the size of a truncheon, and a handbag full of arcade tokens.
~
that someone had made a pitcher of grape Kool-Aid, and I couldn't
figure out how to fit it in the fridge, but I didn't want to throw it
away, so I just woke up.
~
that I had to report for jail, but first I wanted to grab a quick bowl of Rice Krispies. Unfortunately, I had no bowl or spoon nor milk. I looked up after starting to reach into my box and realized I was standing next to Lady Gaga's boyfriend, who was also eating his own Rice Krispies by hand - but he had poured milk straight into his box. I rudely reached over and grabbed a wet handful and started shoveling it into my mouth.
He was
quite put out, yet started sharing his cereal by dropping fistfuls into my hand for me. Gaga walks up and before I can leave, she insists that I try to freestyle a song about how she's a hair stylist. I do terribly, of course, so I just reach down to pet her cat, and tell her that she's a very
good kitty.
~~~~~
Sister:
I'm going to attempt this applicatorless tampon. Wish me luck.
Me: ugh. I can't do those. my fingers are too stubby. good luck.
Sister: I have free ones and i wore a pad all day. I cant suffer another minute in my own filth.
Me: pads are ew.
Sister: I only wear them when I'm being lazy.
Me: or like squishing around.
Sister: Or like wearing a diaper.
Me: and having your crotch smell like a bloody swamp.
Sister: I just read in detail about this tampon
Me: "INSERT." "YOU KNOW WHERE."
Sister: Looooo
Me: well, I guess it's time for me to move to the couch and stare at the tv.
nice chat. hope your vagina holds your tampon well. I say that with the deepest love. har.
Sister: thanks for the words of vaginal encouragement.
~
Me (on her Facebook wall): you can't hammer a nail with your face, unless your face is made out of hammers.
Sister: Or just one big hammer.
Me: not as efficient as several hammers.
Sister: well,
if you use the hammers one at a time in rapid succession, it's more
effective. If you try to use them all at once, you end up with holes in
your wall.
Me: trust me, my hammer face would be the most sensible.
Sister: of course, of course.
~~~~~
This is a message a girl I know from a Facebook group got sent by someone who has just got to be her new best friend by now.
~~~~~
These are a few ads Facebook actually wanted me to pay for to promote my page.
Now give us a kiss.
.
