Let me tell you about my dream last night. Isn’t that a cringe worthy statement? I know but I’m the blogger and you’re the reader. Either hang with me on this or not.

There is a park in our neighborhood that we all played in as kids. In the dream, I drive by the park and there are all kinds of animals playing in the grass. There were orangutans, lions, huge brown bears and elephants.  Across the street where there is a church in real life a gypsy camp had been set up.  On the third corner, a pair of giant mountain gorillas sat in a person’s yard. A baby elephant walked down the street.

Understandably, I got very excited in my dream. My first thought was that I needed pictures for this blog.  So I turned the car around and got out the camera phone.

My favorite thing about recalling dreams are the thought processes you have in the dreams. I did have the presence of mind to wonder why

Heeeeeere little elephant

there was a gypsy camp in the middle of town. The southwest desert is not a high gypsy occupation area. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen gypsies here. Also, I wondered if they had a circus or something and then it occurred to me that they were certainly going to get in big trouble for letting all these animals play loose in mid-town.

Certainly the cops were going to show up at any moment. This was very important in the dream. My very next thought was that I needed to get a hold of Ava right away. When else were we going to have the opportunity to snatch a baby elephant?

I do love a dream that is most certainly going to end in an arrest.

I have a fascination with aliases and pseudonyms. When I was dating eight million years ago, I used to tell guys whom I wasn’t really interested in that my name was Linda. That’s super funny now. Ava claims she never used a fake name in a bar, but surely she’s lying.

Anyway, we’ve come up with our new fake names. I’m going to use Babs Hightower and Ava’s gonna be Tina Tipple.  The only problem I see is that, when I Googled mine, it turns out there is a real Babs Hightower.

Obviously, we don’t plan to start dating anytime in the future. Ever actually. We can’t think of anything worse than that prospect.  Ick. So then I thought we could be Babs and Tina at Starbucks. Ava thinks we’ll never pull it off because one of us will start giggling.

She’s totally right but I’m gonna give it a try.

Dear real Ms. Hightower,

I promise never to order anything embarrassing with your name attached.  Really. I hope you’re alright with an iced, Venti, non-fat Chai with light ice. It’s quite tasty.

You can use my name at Starbucks if you want to.

Best
Amylynn

By the way, we stopped off at Starbucks during lunch today. Unfortunately, my epiphany about our new names came after. Never mind. That’s not the point.

Santa Claus and Salvatore Dali were having coffee! True story!

Only Geddy would have been even less amused.

The fabulous genius of Simon’s Cat.

Is it over yet? I’m telling you, if tomorrow wasn’t election day, I’d go find a cave and move in till it was all over. As it is, I have a horrifying suspicion that tomorrow won’t be the end. That damn hurricane may cause all kinds of problems no one had previously considered.

What if Florida or some other stupid state has a hanging chad problem or something equally inane and annoying.

I just want it to end. I want all the stupid signs down. I don’t want to see the commercials anymore. I want to read about something else online and in the paper.

Soon.

As for tomorrow – get out and vote. There are people all over the world fighting and dying for that right. Don’t squander it.

Then join me at the cave for a drink.

My Honey took pity on me, or he really loves me, cause he found me a hockey game this weekend. I’ve been sorta pissy about hockey this year because so far they’ve cancelled October and November and December isn’t looking good either. The stupid billionaires can’t come to an agreement and so the fans mope along.

Fortunately, the University in town has a hockey team. Watching college hockey is as vastly different from professional hockey as watching  Sassy’s old ballet recitals compared to the Bolshoi Ballet.

We got down to the arena super early so we went to the Comic convention at the same place. The Bandit was pretty interested in the whole

There’s a rift in the space time continuum – Stormtroopers and Tardis in the SAME PICTURE!.

thing. There was all kinds of good crap for seven year old boys. His daddy bought him comic books and everything.

Sassy however found the entire event disturbing. “Why do all the girls have huge boobs?”

She was right, of course. All the comic book super heroine’s have enormous knockers. “Cause they’re drawn by boys, baby, and you know how boys are.”

“Gross.”

Yep. Even the girls walking around dressed as super heroines were proudly displaying what the good Lord or, as in easily more than half, what a plastic surgeon gave them.

It must be very confusing for the nerds.

Back to the hockey game.

The kids had a great time. I tried to explain the game to them as it flowed along. Mostly, though, they were fascinated by the crowd.  My Honey got to do something we rarely get to do but are always overly pleased with our selves when it works out. After one particularly raunchy crowd moment, he turned to me and said, “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.”

How often do you get to insert an Animal House quote so seamlessly into regular life?

The Bandit’s favorite part was the Zamboni. He’s asked for one for Christmas. I wonder what the insurance runs on something like that?

This is some serious eye makeup

I showed you the picture yesterday of Sassy and the Bandit’s Halloween costumes. Bandit was covered all over with green Hulk paint which was a remarkably easy cleanup. A run through the shower and he was good. Sassy on the other hand only wore some eyeliner to look more pirate-y.

You’d think that would be pretty easy clean-up, eh? Not if Sassy is involved, I can assure you.

I gave her some gentle Clinique eye make-up remover and a cotton ball. That’s when the screaming began. I stuck my head of the bathroom door and rolled my eyes at My Honey sitting down the hall.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

I told him she was having a bit of an over reaction, certainly nothing unheard of coming from her.

“I don’t think Nikki Sixx or Tommy Lee ever acted like that and I’m certain they got plenty of eyeliner in their eyes during the ’80s,” he noted.

“Right?” I shook my head. She sounded like I’d given her acetone instead of gentle remover. The good news is, she wasn’t blinded for life.

Afterwards I did what every single parent in America did last night. I went through their candy bags for the good stuff. If you ask me, no child ever needs a Butterfinger. I tell my kids they’re poison.

Anyway, I found this in The Bandit’s bag.  Granola Thins? Really? Who the hell gives Granola Thins out for Halloween? You’re not going to fool me with that “dark chocolate and peanut butter” bull shit.

I say this calls for vigilante justice. Who’s up for a good TPing? I’m pretty sure that house has tall trees.

My Honey took the kids out this year and I defended the house against marauders like werewolves and vampires and rogue Cleopatras.

A wee Incredible Hulk and a surly pirate wench. Watch your candy!

We all went to a Halloween party at my mom-in-law’s house this weekend. Ava, Ed, My Honey and I all dressed as the guys from Duck

Here’s My Honey as Willie Robertson. Dead ringer

Dynasty. My kids, The Incredible Hulk and a pirate, were allowed to come as it was their grandmother’s house and all our babysitters were at the party anyway.

They found another kid at the party and the three of them ran around squealing and having a great time.

Suddenly, The Bandit ran up to us, breathless. “We just got out of the whore house. We barely made it out alive!”

“You did what?” I tried not to shriek but, really, that was quite unexpected.

“We just got out of the whore house. There’s clowns in there.” He was panting from his sugar high and God only knew what else.

“Oh!” I finally got it. “The horror house!”

I really need to work with that kid on his pronunciation.