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[personal profile] kokopellinelli
So. My dream.

I was someone named either Linda or Susan. I went to the help desk in the library and asked if they had any recipes for pot chili. Yes, pot, as in the crap you smoke that smells like skunk.

She managed to dig up a recipe, called, "Linda/Susan's Recipe for Pot Chili." It included ingredients like, "a coarse-chopped medium size marijuana plant" and "three beetle carapaces." The ground carapaces would "give the chili a nice heat without making it too hot."

So I wandered around on the side of the road outside the library, looking for marijuana. I finally managed to find some growing wild in the woods. I went home and made a huge pot of chili.

Let me stress that even my dream self was getting agitated. Every time I added another ingredient, I thought, "Why am I doing this? Can I get arrested for eating marijuana chili? Wtf is with the beetles?"

Then my mom came in. "Hello, honey. Oh, you're making chili, how wonderful! It smells great! May I join you?"

Me: Dilemma. If mom eats the stuff, she'll get high. If I stop her from eating it, I have to explain why, and I will get disappointed looks.

My elbow: *hits the pot, knocks it off the stove, and spills the stuff all over the floor*

Me: Ooops. Sorry. Looks like I'm all out.

And then there was some dream that involved Keely and me climbing out of second-story windows to escape...someone. I'm not sure who. And then we had to hide in the basement of some house, where all of a sudden someone was throwing a baby shower. I 'unno.

Date: 2005-06-06 03:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chaosvizier.livejournal.com
And in my crazy-whack dream subconscious...
I was on a farm ranch of sorts. Not sure where, although it looked a bit like a place I know in Massachusetts. Anyway, me and the Reagans (yes, President Ronald Wilson Reagan and wife Nancy) were there, and I was taking care of them, or something. Ronnie had like a traditional midwestern farmer's outfit- red plaid shirt, overall jeans, wide-brimmed straw hat- and was pretty jolly and fit. For a dead guy, at least. I set him up in a living room with huge bookshelves full of books, and he said, "Boy, that's a lot of books to read. I'd better get started." But then something happened to Nancy- she got sick or injured, and I tried to take her pulse but squeezed her wrist too hard and broke it, and then she went into respiratory failure and died. Whoops.

Note to self: Do not investigate employment in the "Caring For The Elderly" career path.

Date: 2005-06-06 03:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chaosvizier.livejournal.com
I dunno, I'm kinda jonesing for some pot-and-beetle chili right about now...

Date: 2005-06-06 04:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] apollotiger.livejournal.com

Me: Dilemma. If mom eats the stuff, she'll get high. If I stop her from eating it, I have to explain why, and I will get disappointed looks.

My elbow: *hits the pot, knocks it off the stove, and spills the stuff all over the floor*


So totally meta'ed.

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