“When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.” – Unknown
I think I have too much time on my hands. Or maybe I’m just not utilizing the time I have very well.
You see, lately I’ve been having very strange dreams. Dreams that sometimes morph into nightmares. Bazaar and scary nightmares.
I’m almost 70 and I can recall only one really scary dream in all that time. Well….there was that dream about my high school English teacher and the IRS. Both of them coming after me.That was bad. Then there was the tar pit, me, and the gorilla. Did not end well. But I digress.
I’ve been watching too much TV. Nature shows such as “Big Cat Diary”. These are documentaries about the lives of Lions, Cheetahs, and Leopards and their struggles to survive on the plains of Africa. Pretty gritty stuff. Basically murder, sex and mayhem. I never miss it.
Then there is that idiot on “Crocodile Hunter”. He likes to play with Cobra’s, Rattlesnakes, Crocodiles and all the other deadly creatures on the planet. He actually scares the bejesus out of me.And then there are the English. As we all know, the English are really strange people. Take that Shakespeare dude. Was he a whack job or what? Guy couldn’t even spell. Give me a break.
Then there was Henry the 8th. All he did was eat, make little girls, and chop off the heads of his wives.
So the other day I watched this English movie that freaked me out. It was a story that took place in 18th century England. The main characters were a barber, a baker, a waitress, a mute kid, and an American insurance detective. The baker (a woman) made these fantastic meat pies. Everybody loved them. Turns out the meat was human. Eggggh. The barber was the killer and supplier of “meat” to the baker. One of his meats was a client of the American insurance detective.
Weird enough for you yet? The American falls in love with the waitress who turned out to be the daughter of a meat pie ingredient. In the end, the mute kid saved the day.
Think….just think of the kind of mind that dreams that stuff up.
Anyway, several weeks ago I started having these bad dreams. In them I was being chased, killed, and consumed by all kinds of creatures. One of them was a bad, blind date I had years ago. That was a bit odd. Most of them involved 4 legged creatures.
Obviously Steve the Crocodile hunter and his bonkers wife are part of the problem. Those two idiots (he’s deceased..done in by a stingray) and their flirtations with danger and death have poisoned my mind and wreaked havoc with my ability to keep in perspective visual presentations as seen on TV.
Beware of Australian Croc Hunters – Big Cats – English Novelists and Royalty. Just sayin.
Once, Yogi’s wife Carmen asked, “Yogi, you are from St. Louis, we live in New Jersey, and you played ball in New York. If you go before I do, where would you like me to have you buried?” Yogi replied, “Surprise me.”
You do know Steve’s been dead for several years? Stingray barb through the heart.
Let’s keep our English ancestry just between us. No need to share. Know what I mean!!!!