If You Are Reading This Then You Are Alive And That Should Count For Something

November 29, 2010

Happy Monday, I wish I were asleep.

That’s what we are all thinking right now. Regardless of whatever we are doing, we wish we were asleep. To sleep per chance to dream. To dream of joining an adult activity club that plays pranks on each other and plays dodgeball and puts on comedy sketches while everyone wears matching t-shirts for their particular team. And then of course, the grand maestro of this after work socializing for the socially inept prepares a guest speaker for that day’s special occasion. One can only think of one appropriate guest speaker who would be totally cool de la in the pros pro for this apro: Alice Cooper. Yes, thee Alice Cooper who is surprisingly still alive meanwhile Leslie Nielsen is not. And as we all wait backstage as the color matched mass, there is the man of the hour in Mr. Cooper. Oh gosh is he short. Shorter than most. Shorter than most who have medical conditions about being short. His shortness is so distracting one may not notice that with each step he takes he leave a trail of fire in his wake. We spar with words – jokingly of course. And once one believes this oddity could be over, the fellow females of this after work fun factory begin to take the opportunity to meet this miniature Alice Cooper. By “meet” I mean shove their tongue down his throat and vice versa as we watch in horrific silence. Well, girl one kiss kiss kisses and then moves on until the heavily tattooed and head shaved girl two disrobes both herself and our pint sized special guest. This is when things get creepy-er. Some stand and watch, mouths agape in confusion and disgust; others turn and cover their eyes in fear like watching a killing scene. I try to defuse the tension and begin making small talk with this small celebrity while this bald headed ink girl ravages him. Finally, a security guard enters and pulls the lover aside and we all are relieved. She exits the room, clothes nowhere to be found, and Cooper sweaty. This is when it gets creepy-est. Two more girls of the next door variety enter and make a bee line towards the tiny tot frontman. At some point I wake from this dream/nightmare/astral projection of us watching the mini me Alice Cooper making love to two ladies. But before the dream was finished, before Alice finished, I did make one comment that I felt was amusing. I asked Alice Cooper what did he think of nowadays “rock n’ roll” and he replied “rock n’ roll is dead” and I replied “well, guitars aren’t.”

Oh dreaming. Oh sleep.

I would enjoy most dearly if you all shared some crazy dreams that you have had recently. Or why limit it? Ever. Talk about ever dreams. Crazy ever dreams.

Or talk about what a wonderful Thanksgiving one had. “Wonderful” is a word that can be substituted out for “horrible” and “drunken”.

I’m not sure what else there is to write when one talks of a dwarf Alice Cooper sodomizing only steps in front of you. So I will leave you with this picture…

And a proverb in rhyme…

Tomorrow, I will return to scurrying through the leaves from the trees while on my knees fearful of the honey bees all in New Jerseys. These bees stinging at my knees while I’m freely touching all the leaves moving vertically through the trees could be a metaphor for worker bees sitting in their cubicles glaring at me with unpleasantries as I whimsically lick sticky sap from the trees while they silently. Tomorrow, I will meet with these bees and discard my tees for a more suitable me and listen to their decrees about discarding my fantasies of playing in the leaves that fall from these sticky sap trees and worrying about honey bees all in the state of New Jersey. They will break my keys that I use to write these poetries and offer me a life of duties with the other worker bees.

So I’ll be gone tomorrow, but I’ll post something short.

– me

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6 Responses to “If You Are Reading This Then You Are Alive And That Should Count For Something”

  1. MLF said

    I am not thinking about sleep. I am not tired. I slept like twelve hours or something already…yesterday I didn’t wake up until one thirty and then I went to bed pretty early last night sooo yeah.

    also hilariously enough the last dream I had was of me and HB kissing. I’ve already told her about it so maybe she’ll share the details if you’re really nice and stop posting horrifying pictures like the one above that is probably now going to give me nightmares.

    whelppp have a good day ladies. I’m off to be weird and offend people.

  2. PWG said

    I rarely remember my dreams because I sleep like the dead, but I did dream last night of losing my children. Not like anything bad happened to them, I just misplaced them. Maybe that’s more of a premonition.

  3. PWG said

    For Thanksgiving I went to my brother’s house, where we both pretended he hasn’t been ignoring me like a giant baby for six months because he’s mad I didn’t call him on his birthday in June. He’s 51.

    Last year for his 50th I paid several hundred dollars for him to race on a NASCAR track in Arizona. I flew out to witness it personally. Apparently that did not generate enough spillover goodwill to cover forgetting to call this year, though.

    But here’s the magic of the holiday season: if he didn’t invite me to Thanksgiving, he’s publicly ranking my callous forgetfulness pretty damn high on the Family Offense Point Meter. It’s okay to be “mad because PWG forgot my birthday” but if you’re “so mad PWG forgot your birthday that you’re not even going to break bread on Thanksgiving“, well, then, you’re a big fat crybaby. He wasn’t willing to go that far. I win.

  4. I don’t usually remember my dreams since I sleep a little too soundly. Though I did have a dream relatively recently in which you drove by in a Prius. So…there’s that fun little emasculating piece of news.

    Lately my reality’s been a little more entertaining anyway. Thanksgiving involved dessert with my brother’s girlfriend’s family who hail from the backwoods of Northern New Jersey. One woman had the same number of teeth as my 10 month old niece; that number being two.

  5. cledbo said

    I remember being in the midst of a dream this morning when I was rudely awoken by my alarm – four times. That doesn’t mean I can remember what the dream was, though. Memoradium-fail.

    So, new job search huh? Good luck with that, what with that GFC and all. Is that still going? I’m not sure, considering it didn’t affect my country and all (count it!).

    Less than three weeks of work to go. And no stuffing myself until I explode…until next weekend. Long live Xmas parties, woo! They signal that the year is coming to a joyous end, joyous mainly because I’m not moving states this year.

  6. Penelope said

    So because of this post, I had a nightmare last night. Well, a disturbing dream, at least. I dreamt that my 72 year old mother was all of a sudden, from the ribcage area down, really skinny. And she started wearing all these tight clothes (velour tracksuit with Juicy on the back, honestly. I think I’ve been living in Jersey too effin long.). Kicker is that her boobs and upper arms were totally the same, so she looked kind of normal-ish in that area and then freakishly, stay-at-home-mom who can afford pilates and has nothing fucking else to do but work out all day skinny. That was a mouthful.

    So thanks for that dream and for me thinking in any way for any amount of time about my mom’s figure. Oh, and I just love the title of the post. You didn’t have to write anything after that, but I’m glad you did.

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