I didn’t sleep very well last night. But I did manage to dream up what would’ve been the best blog post ever. The slight glitch in this whole “write the internet’s best blog post and win a Pulitzer” idea is that I can’t recall much from the night- that and the last time I checked they don’t give out Pulitzers for blogs.
I DO remember thinking that I needed to remember all of it. Which you’re about to find out did me absolutely no good.
Throughout the night, I kept turning from side to side because when I laid on my left side I could feel vibrations in my head. There is a fan close to the head of the bed, but I was thinking that it couldn’t possibly be close enough to shake the bed. The very mysterious part happened when I turned on my right side. I didn’t feel any vibration. Somehow, I came to the conclusion- in my sleep mind you, that my skull must be thinner on my left side than my right side. All I took from that was, “I’ve got a skinny skull!” Sweet!
I’m still a bit fuzzy on some things. Was the whole skinny skull thing the part that would be the best blog post ever or was it was the other part that I don’t really remember? All I know is that there were some gunshots involved, a gangster or two, my dog Maile, a black Doberman and a house with green silk walls which reminded me of a brothel. Neither one of them are particularly earth shatteringly entertaining. If I had to grade my subconscious on dreaming abilities for the night, I’d give myself an ‘F-’.
I have to admit at being a little disappointed in my brain’s ability to remember. Way to go brain- way to screw me and make me forget what was totally going to be the world’s best blog post ever. Brain, you have instead, quite possibly made me write what could be the world’s worst blog post.
Why am I posting it then? Two reasons:
- Because someone out there wanted me to tell this ‘story’. And far be it from me to mess with whatever cosmic, subliminal, subconscious force that deemed it necessary to share this information with me. I’m betting that someone in the great land of the internet has some insight for me about what this all means.
- A rather uneventful weekend left me with a dearth of entertaining subjects to discuss.
So I really would like someone to help me out here. What does it all mean? Am I going to die of cancer? Am I like the smartest person that ever lived, and since my brain is so big, my skull has to be thinner? And what’s up with the green silk walls? Did I work at a brothel in a past life? Maile would also like to know why a Doberman is involved. She hopes it was because he was cute and not because there were some sort of Michael Vick shenanigans going on. Or is it that Maile worked at a brothel in her past life? Better yet, Maile and I both worked at a brothel in a past life except that she became reincarnated as a dog and I’ve got to do the whole human thing over? Guess I got the short straw on that deal. She lays around and takes naps all day, while I slave away trying to provide a good life for her. What a bitch. Literally.
Please help me. I have a feeling that one of you can put all of the above ingredients into a story that would be much, much, more funnier than anything that my brain has chosen to bless me with in the past twenty-four hours.
Entertain me- leave a story in the comment section!
Also, there is no need to let me know that this blog post also deserves an ‘F-’. Of that, I am already well aware.
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
Once upon a time…yes, this is an OLD story…there lived in the worst kept sections of the crime-ridden city, a quaint old lady (Susannah in 2060?) who was soft on dogs. She usually kept about 7 to 11 dogs of all sizes and temperaments in her domestic orphanage. In the light of a full moon a striking couple escaped out into the night – Maile, a regal looking white Alaskan malamute with her jaunty tail blowing in the breeze, and Enrique, a rather enormous, sleek ebony Doberman. Unbeknownst to this pair was another pair of two-legged creatures out and about and intent on deeds of a dubious nature. Serious barking erupted, soon followed by gun shots. The dubious duo managed to escape into a nearby dance hall/brothel without being followed by the cops. However, Enrique cut to the chase. There, in the green bamboo silk covered entryway Enrique had the terrified two-legged pair cornered behind the counter, while 65 pound Miss Maile assisted by slobbering and pawing over them.
I hate it when that happens! I always think most when driving, and think of awesome blog posts, but of course by the time I sit down to the computer, It’s alll gone.
@ secrets kept- I usually come up with them right before I fall asleep, but then I’m too lazy to get out of bed so I just go to sleep. And we see where that’s gotten me- now I apparently dream about them.
HAH! Having a skull thinner on one side is a perfectly logical explanation! That’s hilarious.
Happens to me all the time. We must have Pulitzer on our minds… I mentioned it on my last blog post too. lol
@ Anna- You must have ESPN or something to know that I was going to write about that….
I can’t think of a story, but I’ve turned it into a joke:
Q. Why did the chicken with the big brain and the thin vibrating skull cross the road?
A. Because he wanted to buy a chicken whore at the green brothel and then get eaten by a black Doberman. Hey, it beats ending up as a three piece meal at KFC! Badoomp!
Marty- I will think about using that joke in my next blog…. I said think about it. mmmm. KFC!
I think that you and maile were both prostitutes and sisters in a past life. You frequently worked in a green brothel together. After attempting to steel money from your pimp he sent his Doberman “snoop” to kill you. You were placed back on earth, Maile as a dog and you as her “thin skulled” owner. Maile came back as a thick white Female. This was chosen to be most effective for your revenge. You see, you were re-incarnated to kill “snoop” and everyone knows that snoop , Being the skinny black male that he is, wouldn’t be able to resist maile. This would allow her to lure him in and allow for the both of you to kill him.
Wow! Juice has potential as a co-author for Suz’s first, lively to be sure & definitely fiction, book. What do ya think?