THIS POST HAS BEEN REMOVED
FOR RE-EVALUATION OF APPROPRIATENESS.
Saturday, August 15
Monday, June 29
Woods of PA
I went to PA for work. Flew into Pittsburgh then rented a car, a little tiny YARIS, to drive 3 hours to St. Marys/Ridgway. It 's very pretty country, but absolutely nothing to do in the evenings... except to go to Walmart. I went twice during my 3 day trip. I bought new shorts and a dress shirt and tie, and tried on 20 pairs of jeans, mostly cuz I had nothing better to do. None of the jeans fit well enough. I'm gonna have to buy some and then get them altered.
There was also this itty, bitty, tinee-tiny chapel on the side of the road near my hotel called Decker's Chapel. I took some pics and was amazed that it was unattended, unlocked, and had things inside that were NOT nailed down!
I posted some pics of my trip. Enjoy.
The metropolis comes to the woods:
A river in Ridgway, PA near the customer site. It was a nice lunchtime walk.
There was also this itty, bitty, tinee-tiny chapel on the side of the road near my hotel called Decker's Chapel. I took some pics and was amazed that it was unattended, unlocked, and had things inside that were NOT nailed down!
I posted some pics of my trip. Enjoy.
The metropolis comes to the woods:
A river in Ridgway, PA near the customer site. It was a nice lunchtime walk.
Sunday, June 21
Snakes Everywhere
This is an older dream, but since some of you may not have seen it, I figured it was worth another showing....
Thought I’d capture this dream in ink..er…pixels… and share it. The “snake” part of the dream happens when I’m under stress. I mean to say that it is a recurring theme in my nightmares when I am stressed out. Circumstances within the dream are always different. This one was interesting cuz my mom
played a large role in the dream .
I forget how it started, but it grew into me telling my Mom about this cool party game I had created. It involved the creek behind our house
although the creek was much more robust now, being waist - and sometimes chest- deep. I took my Mom to the creek to describe the game, which involved floating sticks down the creek, but of course, being a Bradlee game, was much more convoluted than it sounds. At this point, Bernadette
makes a guest appearance and listens to my explanation, but then she fades out of the dream pretty quick, once the snakes appear.
How do they appear?
Well, OF COURSE, my mom and I were IN the creek, as I was describing the intricate path the sticks took, when I looked down and saw a snake coiled around a root, underwater, about 3 feet from me in the middle of the creek.
I try not to panic cuz I don’t want to alarm anyone, so I take a step back and tell Mom and Bernadette that they might wanna get out of the water. The snake starts to move, and I skirt around it and grab on to a tree, where I quickly realize there is a snake above water on the trunk of the tree near where I grabbed.
I change my grab to a swing to move to the next tree and work toward the creek bank. I suddenly realize there are several snakes scattered about
, and some are quite active. At this point I’m in sheer panic-mode. I do a hop skip and try to travel across the ground without touching any snakes, or the ground if I can help it, as it seems like there is scarcely room to set my foot down without stepping on a snake.
Through the magic of dreams, I am then leaving my old bedroom in my parents’ house, and at the far end of the hall I see one snake. It rears its head about 4 feet off the ground and starts traveling down the hall toward me, hissing and threatening, and obviously wanting to attack.
I somehow manage to get by it (dream magic again), and see that the living room is covered in snakes
and that the dining room is better, but not by much. I go through there, through the kitchen, and to the open door of the utility room. In the utility room between me and the other door which leads to the Family TV Room, is a large…..beast. It is very similar to an alligator
, but the flesh isn’t scaly. In fact, it looks as if it has been burnt and is red and black and tan, …and possible in pain. It is much fatter than an alligator, and is probably about 6 feet long. Its tail is toward me, but it is looking back over its body with its mouth open showing all of its razor sharp teeth. My Mom
appears in the doorway across from me, and says something like: “You have to learn to deal with these snakes, Bradlee. Cut them when you see them.” And she takes a large metal two tine meat fork
and stabs it into the exposed neck of the beast. The beast roars in pain and turns its attention to Mom. She takes a step back, but then lunges again for another stab at the side of the beast. She then slams the doors shut, locking the beast in the utility room.
Through the magic of dreams, I find myself in the room with my Mom, which looks more like it did when it used to be a bedroom. She says something like, “I know you can’t handle the snakes.” It’s said in a sort of matter-of-fact way, but there is a note of disappointment in it, but as if she has long accepted that this is just the way it is. She then says, “That’s why I wear this,” gesturing to her pants and tennis shoes. “If I thought you could handle the snakes, then I’d be able to wear this…” …and she reveals this black pleather mini skirt she has in a box
, with metal rings acting as a very revealing side seam. And then I look up and suddenly it isn’t my Mom, but Mo’Nique.
Which I guess was enough to scare me awake, heart racing and feeling sad.
Saturday, June 13
Star Trek Party
So, my friend Joshua was having a birthday party with a Star Trek theme. I hadn't a thing to wear. Thought about wearing a LOST IN SPACE t-shirt. The night before the party I flew in late to the ATL airport, returning home from a work trip. It was after midnight and the baggage was taking it's own sweet time coming out. I called a friend, and in the course of the conversation told him of the upcoming party. I jokingly asked, "You don't have a Star Trek costume, do you?" SURE he does! So, I go by, pick it up, and IT FITS!!!
But I wanted a banana clip so I could look more like Jordy LaForge, the blind guy with the visor. So, already Trekked out, on the way to the party I stop at my Kroger. Yes, I went shopping in this. There were no banana clips. Evidently they've gone out of fashion. But I did find this cool black plastic hair band that had a design that I could see thru. I thought it would look HAHA funny... but people liked it. Someone actually said it looked "hot". ..which I thought was a tad weird.
I also took this as an opportunity to shave my beard. I tried to do edgy lines, but in an effort to even them out I ended up with a basic goatee, almost. Originally meant to go edgier. Oh well.
Party was fun!
The following were some other photos of "Uhura's Bastard Son (and his shoes)" as well as a guy in mid-transporter de-materialization, and the nameless doomed crew member....
More pics here on my facebook photos:
http://www.facebook.com/editalbum.php?aid=100167#/album.php?aid=100167&id=618336401
But I wanted a banana clip so I could look more like Jordy LaForge, the blind guy with the visor. So, already Trekked out, on the way to the party I stop at my Kroger. Yes, I went shopping in this. There were no banana clips. Evidently they've gone out of fashion. But I did find this cool black plastic hair band that had a design that I could see thru. I thought it would look HAHA funny... but people liked it. Someone actually said it looked "hot". ..which I thought was a tad weird.I also took this as an opportunity to shave my beard. I tried to do edgy lines, but in an effort to even them out I ended up with a basic goatee, almost. Originally meant to go edgier. Oh well.Party was fun!
The following were some other photos of "Uhura's Bastard Son (and his shoes)" as well as a guy in mid-transporter de-materialization, and the nameless doomed crew member....
More pics here on my facebook photos:
http://www.facebook.com/editalbum.php?aid=100167#/album.php?aid=100167&id=618336401
Wednesday, June 10
Three Times the Charm
So, I had a flight out of Washington, DC last week. I was very tired as I was driving to the airport to catch my 3PM flight. It had been a long week. Everything was going fine, until I stepped up to the self check-in kiosk and saw my flight had been delayed. The new time was 4:48PM. ARGH! “That’s almost two hours!” I exclaim. The ticket agent nods sagely. “Well, at least I see you have Crown Room privileges,” he says looking at a ticket. I stay quiet, cuz normally I don’t have such privileges. I’m thinking maybe since the flight was delayed they granted me access? Or I did get something in the mail trying to get me to try it for free, but I hadn’t done anything with that, but maybe it was activated automatically on my SkyMiles account? I walk off, and I look at the tickets in my hand. One I had printed out and then the other he had handed me.
I see now that the one he handed me was for Otis Greene. Evidently Otis has Crown Room privileges. Now, I’m faced with a minor moral dilemma. Can I just present the wrong ticket and get in, pretending to be Otis? Or will they ask for ID? And will I burn in hell for pretending to be someone I’m not? It’s only 1PM or so, and I do have forever and a day until my 4:48 flight…..
I delay the dilemma by eating first. I then call my friend, Bernadette. She’s my moral compass. She said I should try to get in to the Crown Room. “What’s the worse that could happen?” So, ok… maybe she’s like a moral compass that points due South. I opt not to try it. But I sit on a bench, slouched to the max, listening to all the news from Bernadette.
The time is about 2:30PM now. I tell Bernadette I should probably go thru security and look at my gate. Security is no problem, but I can’t recall my gate, so I walk up to a display screen to see. I can’t find my flight anywhere. I see one flight is cancelled, but it’s not my number. But it was scheduled for departure at 3PM. I’m confused, and begin to have an unsettled sort of feeling, like when you eat pickles with milk. I find an agent who is working at a deserted gate. She seems to be closing a flight.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m all confused. I can’t find my flight on the screen anywhere.” She looks at my ticket and says, “It just left.”
“What!?! It’s not supposed to leave until 4:48!!”
“It is 4:48,” she responds. You can tell she hates stupid customers like me.
“Uhm..” Is it? No, it can’t be. I pull my cell phone out to see the time. “NO! It’s 2:48! Call the plane back, they left early and without me!”
She does a double take then rolls her eyes. “O. Yes, 2:48. It’s scheduled to leave now.” I think she probably hates all life on Earth.
Confusion. Anger. Disappointment. Then I think about it, and I come to a realization of what must have happened. “I think I looked at the Atlanta ARRIVAL time, not the departure time.” She confirms that the arrival time is about 4:48. And she says, “I’m laughing with you, not at you.” Which was kinda creepy, cuz really neither she or myself were laughing. She’s an unfeeling devil spawn.
I’m not really mad at this Delta creature before me. I’m just mad at myself, for two reasons. First of all, I’m mad at myself for reading the monitor wrong. Then too, I’m upset because I did not follow my tried and true procedure. I get to the airport , go thru security and go straight to my gate, no matter how early I am, to confirm that the gate is where it is supposed to be and my flight gate has not been changed.
The gate agent gets me on the next flight, which leaves at 4PM. Turning lemons to lemonade, I tell myself: “Well, at least I’m now leaving earlier than I THOUGHT I was.” I try not to think that I could be in my car on the way home by the time I’m boarding this new flight.
I then do something that I find somewhat curious. Even tho I’m feeling stupid about what I’ve done, I then proceed to call several people to tell them how stupid I am. It’s like I can’t wait to share it with everyone. I would think a normal person would keep such indiscretions to themselves. Oh well.
Then kicker number one happens. While sitting on the plane, I’m thinking about what has transpired. I realize that something does not add up. Later I confirm my suspicions. Recall that my flight was at 3PM. If it was delayed, then how am I suddenly be leaving BEFORE 3PM on a delayed flight non the less?!?!? Then I remember the mysterious 800 call that came in that morning, which I did not answer. They did not leave a message. I look it up on my cell phone, and call it back. It is DELTA airlines. So, the answer to the riddle is that MY 3PM flight was cancelled, and they put me on the 2PM flight, basically without telling me. Then, when I found out I was delayed, my brain dismissed the 2:48 time I saw on the ticket kiosk, because, well… that doesn’t add up…that would not be a delay, now would it?
I’m not as big an idiot as I thought I was… HOORAY! I can’t wait to tell everyone that I’m not as stupid as I told them I was! I think I’ll BLOG about it.
Kicker number 2: Well, since I missed the flight, this means my luggage is going to get there well before me, and I’m going to have to retrieve it from the Delta Baggage Claim Office. When I arrive to ATL, I go straight there, passing the carousels without much of a glance. I stand in line to tell the lady my ordeal. When it is my turn I ask where I might find my bags. She looks and looks at her monitor, and doesn’t understand what she is seeing. She asks for her coworker to interpret. It turns out my bags did not make it on my flight either, and ended up riding with me on my plane. They were waiting for me on the carousel. SO…if I HAD caught the earlier flight, I’d have been baggageless!!! Unless of course they PULLED my bags when I didn’t board, but I can’t believe they are that efficient.
So that trip back kinda sucked, but was nothing compared to the following week when I missed my flight out to Richmond. You’d think a Sunday afternoon it wouldn’t be busy. Except on THIS Sunday the rental car return was backed up out into the airport drive, down the off ramp back onto I-85, all the way back to I-75 and back another exit. Basically about a 4 mile backup. I did to get to the counter 29 minutes before my flight, but I missed the 45 minute cutoff for checking and baggage claim. No more flights out that day, except stand by. None until next day at 11AM. Fine. Book me, Dano.
And why the huge backup? No one knew for sure, but the reigning theory was that the Pittsburg fans had hit the airport after the Falcons game all at the same time. Stupid Steelers.
Since I’m supposed to be at the site by 9AM, I guess I’ll be late. I was. Just as I was about to leave the next morning to catch that flight, I turn on CNN Headline News, and just as it comes up it is the Travel Report. Rally Caparas goes thru the airports, and then at the end he says, “And this just in: We’ve gotten word that the Atlanta airport security lines are out into the parking lot and is a 2 hour wait. We’ll try to find out what is going on for you in the next half hour.” I don’t have that long. My flight is leaving in 2 hours and 15 minutes. It takes 15 minutes to get to the airport, and if the line is 2 hours long….. well,…I decided not to finish my eggs, thru the plate in the sink, and flew out the door. The line wasn’t as nearly as bad as reported. It was only 30 minutes long. But the flight was delayed on the runway, so I ended up not getting to the customer site until 2:20PM.
And now, I m writing this in the Richmond Airport, trying to catch my 7:55PM flight. Except it is 9:22PM. Last I heard we’d be leaving ‘sometime around 10’. It’s raining both here and in Atlanta, so I suppose that is why. And all I can do is look forward to getting home and scrapping off cemented egg from my dirty plate. Sigh. I wish I was Otis Greene. I bet HIS travel life is much better.
I see now that the one he handed me was for Otis Greene. Evidently Otis has Crown Room privileges. Now, I’m faced with a minor moral dilemma. Can I just present the wrong ticket and get in, pretending to be Otis? Or will they ask for ID? And will I burn in hell for pretending to be someone I’m not? It’s only 1PM or so, and I do have forever and a day until my 4:48 flight…..
I delay the dilemma by eating first. I then call my friend, Bernadette. She’s my moral compass. She said I should try to get in to the Crown Room. “What’s the worse that could happen?” So, ok… maybe she’s like a moral compass that points due South. I opt not to try it. But I sit on a bench, slouched to the max, listening to all the news from Bernadette.
The time is about 2:30PM now. I tell Bernadette I should probably go thru security and look at my gate. Security is no problem, but I can’t recall my gate, so I walk up to a display screen to see. I can’t find my flight anywhere. I see one flight is cancelled, but it’s not my number. But it was scheduled for departure at 3PM. I’m confused, and begin to have an unsettled sort of feeling, like when you eat pickles with milk. I find an agent who is working at a deserted gate. She seems to be closing a flight.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m all confused. I can’t find my flight on the screen anywhere.” She looks at my ticket and says, “It just left.”
“What!?! It’s not supposed to leave until 4:48!!”
“It is 4:48,” she responds. You can tell she hates stupid customers like me.
“Uhm..” Is it? No, it can’t be. I pull my cell phone out to see the time. “NO! It’s 2:48! Call the plane back, they left early and without me!”
She does a double take then rolls her eyes. “O. Yes, 2:48. It’s scheduled to leave now.” I think she probably hates all life on Earth.
Confusion. Anger. Disappointment. Then I think about it, and I come to a realization of what must have happened. “I think I looked at the Atlanta ARRIVAL time, not the departure time.” She confirms that the arrival time is about 4:48. And she says, “I’m laughing with you, not at you.” Which was kinda creepy, cuz really neither she or myself were laughing. She’s an unfeeling devil spawn.
I’m not really mad at this Delta creature before me. I’m just mad at myself, for two reasons. First of all, I’m mad at myself for reading the monitor wrong. Then too, I’m upset because I did not follow my tried and true procedure. I get to the airport , go thru security and go straight to my gate, no matter how early I am, to confirm that the gate is where it is supposed to be and my flight gate has not been changed.
The gate agent gets me on the next flight, which leaves at 4PM. Turning lemons to lemonade, I tell myself: “Well, at least I’m now leaving earlier than I THOUGHT I was.” I try not to think that I could be in my car on the way home by the time I’m boarding this new flight.
I then do something that I find somewhat curious. Even tho I’m feeling stupid about what I’ve done, I then proceed to call several people to tell them how stupid I am. It’s like I can’t wait to share it with everyone. I would think a normal person would keep such indiscretions to themselves. Oh well.
Then kicker number one happens. While sitting on the plane, I’m thinking about what has transpired. I realize that something does not add up. Later I confirm my suspicions. Recall that my flight was at 3PM. If it was delayed, then how am I suddenly be leaving BEFORE 3PM on a delayed flight non the less?!?!? Then I remember the mysterious 800 call that came in that morning, which I did not answer. They did not leave a message. I look it up on my cell phone, and call it back. It is DELTA airlines. So, the answer to the riddle is that MY 3PM flight was cancelled, and they put me on the 2PM flight, basically without telling me. Then, when I found out I was delayed, my brain dismissed the 2:48 time I saw on the ticket kiosk, because, well… that doesn’t add up…that would not be a delay, now would it?
I’m not as big an idiot as I thought I was… HOORAY! I can’t wait to tell everyone that I’m not as stupid as I told them I was! I think I’ll BLOG about it.
Kicker number 2: Well, since I missed the flight, this means my luggage is going to get there well before me, and I’m going to have to retrieve it from the Delta Baggage Claim Office. When I arrive to ATL, I go straight there, passing the carousels without much of a glance. I stand in line to tell the lady my ordeal. When it is my turn I ask where I might find my bags. She looks and looks at her monitor, and doesn’t understand what she is seeing. She asks for her coworker to interpret. It turns out my bags did not make it on my flight either, and ended up riding with me on my plane. They were waiting for me on the carousel. SO…if I HAD caught the earlier flight, I’d have been baggageless!!! Unless of course they PULLED my bags when I didn’t board, but I can’t believe they are that efficient.
So that trip back kinda sucked, but was nothing compared to the following week when I missed my flight out to Richmond. You’d think a Sunday afternoon it wouldn’t be busy. Except on THIS Sunday the rental car return was backed up out into the airport drive, down the off ramp back onto I-85, all the way back to I-75 and back another exit. Basically about a 4 mile backup. I did to get to the counter 29 minutes before my flight, but I missed the 45 minute cutoff for checking and baggage claim. No more flights out that day, except stand by. None until next day at 11AM. Fine. Book me, Dano.
And why the huge backup? No one knew for sure, but the reigning theory was that the Pittsburg fans had hit the airport after the Falcons game all at the same time. Stupid Steelers.
Since I’m supposed to be at the site by 9AM, I guess I’ll be late. I was. Just as I was about to leave the next morning to catch that flight, I turn on CNN Headline News, and just as it comes up it is the Travel Report. Rally Caparas goes thru the airports, and then at the end he says, “And this just in: We’ve gotten word that the Atlanta airport security lines are out into the parking lot and is a 2 hour wait. We’ll try to find out what is going on for you in the next half hour.” I don’t have that long. My flight is leaving in 2 hours and 15 minutes. It takes 15 minutes to get to the airport, and if the line is 2 hours long….. well,…I decided not to finish my eggs, thru the plate in the sink, and flew out the door. The line wasn’t as nearly as bad as reported. It was only 30 minutes long. But the flight was delayed on the runway, so I ended up not getting to the customer site until 2:20PM.
And now, I m writing this in the Richmond Airport, trying to catch my 7:55PM flight. Except it is 9:22PM. Last I heard we’d be leaving ‘sometime around 10’. It’s raining both here and in Atlanta, so I suppose that is why. And all I can do is look forward to getting home and scrapping off cemented egg from my dirty plate. Sigh. I wish I was Otis Greene. I bet HIS travel life is much better.
Sunday, June 7
McD's and Sunday Strippers
So, I really don't like this BJ's bar too much.... I'm just not into strippers. I have better uses for my dollar bills... and when the crowd is looking at the beautiful gogo dancers, they AREN'T looking at me.!!! (stomp foot, hand on hip, petulant frown). But my friends like to go there and I rarely see them anymore with all my traveling, so......
The other bad thing is that afterwards I find ANOTHER use for my dollars... the McDonald's dollar menu. I just devoured a McDouble before I even got home. I"m sure there a little tiny reconstituted dehydrated onions littering my car seat now. :( I may look a LITTLE more like the GOGO boys if I give them my dollars instead of giving them to that CLOWN. hmmmm.. diet concept, starting to form...... TIPPING GOGO DANCERS SHORTENS BELT LINE.
Tomorrow I fly out. I'm mostly packed. Not prepared for the actual WORK part of my journey to MASS. and this is the first time I've had to do a connecting flight in a while.... hope I don't miss my connection.
Off to bed.... trying to read a chapter of HALF BLOOD PRINCE in prep for my pre-new-harry-potter-movie DVD Party. WOOHOO!
The other bad thing is that afterwards I find ANOTHER use for my dollars... the McDonald's dollar menu. I just devoured a McDouble before I even got home. I"m sure there a little tiny reconstituted dehydrated onions littering my car seat now. :( I may look a LITTLE more like the GOGO boys if I give them my dollars instead of giving them to that CLOWN. hmmmm.. diet concept, starting to form...... TIPPING GOGO DANCERS SHORTENS BELT LINE.
Tomorrow I fly out. I'm mostly packed. Not prepared for the actual WORK part of my journey to MASS. and this is the first time I've had to do a connecting flight in a while.... hope I don't miss my connection.
Off to bed.... trying to read a chapter of HALF BLOOD PRINCE in prep for my pre-new-harry-potter-movie DVD Party. WOOHOO!
Sunday, May 31
Atticus, and the Screaming Pussy
02-17-2006
This morning, I woke up extra early, kinda parched. So, I got up, drank some juice, and returned to bed. Now, I don't know what was wrong with that juice, but here is the ensuing dream, along with my comments inserted.
After being asleep a short time, I'm awoken by an odd sound coming from the sliding glass door. My brother, Kevin, (who lives in Orlando) announces "I'll get it." He proceeds to let in a cat. It is Atticus! (Atticus was my sister-in-law's kitty, who died many years ago of cancer, and was the best cat EVER, God rest her kitty soul). Atticus is purring extremely loudly, sounds almost like a Harley driving down the strip. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," I call. Atticus comes and jumps up on the bed with me, at first on top of me, but then rolls off to the side, and lets me rub her belly. Meanwhile, her mewling is becoming louder and it sounds as if she is in pain, but I'm not sure. All I know is that SOMETHING ain't right, cuz I notice that she has very human-like pink, fleshy, labias (is that plural?) puckering up at me from between her back legs.
I stand up, being somewhat concerned. Atticus comes to the side of the bed, rolls over on her back again, paws in the air, and suddenly her nether region opens up to be almost twice the width of her body. It is a cavernous hole, lined with ribs that rise up to the edges and continue, exposed, forming something like angry, sharp teeth. (Probably don't need Freud for that one). "Of course!", I think, "She's having babies!!" The mewling becomes louder (I think it is actually coming from this monster vagina thing). Suddenly, Atticus moans, quite plainly, "MAKE IT STOP!!!!" Three kittens come rolling out of the vicious maw, one is naked, and the other have the cutest fur, with these golden brown and white patterns. Atticus is acting like she doesn't care about these babies, which concerns me, so I take them and start placing them on her nipples. They keep hiding under the sheets, and I'm concerned about them getting stepped on or lost. (I think this pregnancy thing is because I watched this show about an Arkansas family with 14 kids and another one on the way).
In a resigned sort of way, as if she wished I wouldn't bother her but knew there was no hope of that, Atticus says, "Well, you might as well get the still born. It's underneath me and looks like a cut-off human ear." (Family Guy last night had a little think about Van Gogh cutting off his ear) Sure enough, it did. I scooped it up with a paper towel and threw it away, hurrying to get back to see to the living kitties.
I feel like there was more to the dream, but perhaps not. I think it ended abruptly, at any rate.
The End
!!! Post Script!! The next night, I dreamed about our old dead dog PEPPER! It was like the parade of dead pets thru my head.
This morning, I woke up extra early, kinda parched. So, I got up, drank some juice, and returned to bed. Now, I don't know what was wrong with that juice, but here is the ensuing dream, along with my comments inserted.
After being asleep a short time, I'm awoken by an odd sound coming from the sliding glass door. My brother, Kevin, (who lives in Orlando) announces "I'll get it." He proceeds to let in a cat. It is Atticus! (Atticus was my sister-in-law's kitty, who died many years ago of cancer, and was the best cat EVER, God rest her kitty soul). Atticus is purring extremely loudly, sounds almost like a Harley driving down the strip. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," I call. Atticus comes and jumps up on the bed with me, at first on top of me, but then rolls off to the side, and lets me rub her belly. Meanwhile, her mewling is becoming louder and it sounds as if she is in pain, but I'm not sure. All I know is that SOMETHING ain't right, cuz I notice that she has very human-like pink, fleshy, labias (is that plural?) puckering up at me from between her back legs.
I stand up, being somewhat concerned. Atticus comes to the side of the bed, rolls over on her back again, paws in the air, and suddenly her nether region opens up to be almost twice the width of her body. It is a cavernous hole, lined with ribs that rise up to the edges and continue, exposed, forming something like angry, sharp teeth. (Probably don't need Freud for that one). "Of course!", I think, "She's having babies!!" The mewling becomes louder (I think it is actually coming from this monster vagina thing). Suddenly, Atticus moans, quite plainly, "MAKE IT STOP!!!!" Three kittens come rolling out of the vicious maw, one is naked, and the other have the cutest fur, with these golden brown and white patterns. Atticus is acting like she doesn't care about these babies, which concerns me, so I take them and start placing them on her nipples. They keep hiding under the sheets, and I'm concerned about them getting stepped on or lost. (I think this pregnancy thing is because I watched this show about an Arkansas family with 14 kids and another one on the way).
In a resigned sort of way, as if she wished I wouldn't bother her but knew there was no hope of that, Atticus says, "Well, you might as well get the still born. It's underneath me and looks like a cut-off human ear." (Family Guy last night had a little think about Van Gogh cutting off his ear) Sure enough, it did. I scooped it up with a paper towel and threw it away, hurrying to get back to see to the living kitties.
I feel like there was more to the dream, but perhaps not. I think it ended abruptly, at any rate.
The End
!!! Post Script!! The next night, I dreamed about our old dead dog PEPPER! It was like the parade of dead pets thru my head.
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