15 July 2013
686
R. Linda:
Call it what you will, but some dreams just shouldn't be dreamt. Yes, you already know I had spicy food last night and oh wow, did I have a dream to end all dreams! A nightmare of sorts really, but aren't they all? But this wasn't just the run-of-the-mill nightmare, no this one was something special. Oi!
Where to begin? I don't want to babble but I just might fall into that and if I do, please forgive me because me heart is in flux, me nerves are shattered, and I feel I be scared and scarred for life! Yes, I do.
So here's how I think this nightmare happened. Ok, I did start with the spicy Korean kimchi, I love the stuff I really do and me supplier of this delicacy is none other than the Weasil. He loves buying it because it comes in a large glass bottle and it looks like a brain rolling around inside. For some reason, this just fascinates the young whippersnapper to where he just stares at it for hours. Of course, he shakes it on occasion to get it bobbling around inside its liquid preservative. So there was THAT.
The other was that the wife was making a deal about me travelling when she was due to have baby number 3. In the middle of this discussion on the Sunday ABC News, it was told that Prince William was 100 miles away from due-any-minute-now Kate. I would be no more than 50 miles away! So it was like come on.
"Yeah, but he has a helicopter at the ready to fly him back to London. What do you have Gabe?"
She had a point she did.
Somehow, while I munched on the Korean delicacy and was discussing Kate and Wills, well . . . for some reason I think my stomach was trying to tell me to cut it out, enough kimchi already, but being somewhat stressed over THE discussion I kept eating more than I should have, and SOMEHOW we got into a discussion on Camilla and I dunno, it was a royal mess.
"You know Camilla is all excited about Kate and Will's heir to the throne. She seems to be playing in-palace mom to Kate." Tonya said, spurring me to eat more kimchi.
"The idea of Camilla being anything than the other woman . . . I just can't think of that in any other terms. It is all Charles's fault." I said. "Must be strange for pretty Kate to look upon those two, they resemble horses so much," I said.
Shortly after that, I went to bed just to escape. I popped a few Tums before then, yes I did, and then I took one of the wife's Ambien to make sure the tummy wasn't going to win out and keep me up all night. So that is the preliminaries to me nightmare.
Now for the nightmare. I know they say if you take Ambien you could wake up and do things you wouldn't normally do, and never know you did them. Like eat cardboard, or drive a car, or get on a plane to London and sneak into Buckingham Palace and . . . well do what I think I did. I be afraid I made the morning Daily Mail over there at least . . . well let me explain.
I vaguely remember getting up in the middle of the night and getting dressed in a suit and tie, polishing my dress shoes, grabbing me wallet and driving. Driving, driving, driving, no one hardly on the road to the airport. I bought a ticket (I think) but I can't account for that action, have no memory of it, just know that I must have got a ticket somehow. The next thing I remember, I am sitting in a plane seat looking down at London. Then there is a blank of time from then to me finding meself asleep in my own bed in me suit and tie with dress shoes still on, and sunglasses (I don't know where I got those), and the Daily Mail spread across my chest.
I know that doesn't seem like much of a nightmare but the wife was pissed off. I sat up as the newspaper fell into me lap, and realised the wife was sitting in a chair at the end of the bed, a cup of steaming coffee being sipped and two very narrow eyes looking at me.
"Are you proud of yourself?" She asked me.
"Huh? How did . . . when did I . . . why am I dressed in a suit?" I asked very confused.
"You tell me, Casanova." She said her voice angry.
"Wot?" I was very confused.
"Look at the front page of that rag," she gestured at the paper.
I picked it up and saw . . . oh what I saw . . .
"Can't be! CANNOT BE!" I said spreading the front page out and getting the full picture.
"Explain THAT," Tonya demanded.
"I can't. I don't remember . . . " or did I? Something about riding a horse. OH NO!
"You remember now, don't you? When you can come up with a good excuse let me know. It should be a doozy." Tonya said taking her coffee and leaving me with the Daily Mail and the most awful image I've ever seen on the front page of a tabloid newspaper. I be still trying to explain it. I blame it on Ambien. I do, I have to, what other explanation is there for THIS?
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Call it what you will, but some dreams just shouldn't be dreamt. Yes, you already know I had spicy food last night and oh wow, did I have a dream to end all dreams! A nightmare of sorts really, but aren't they all? But this wasn't just the run-of-the-mill nightmare, no this one was something special. Oi!
Where to begin? I don't want to babble but I just might fall into that and if I do, please forgive me because me heart is in flux, me nerves are shattered, and I feel I be scared and scarred for life! Yes, I do.
So here's how I think this nightmare happened. Ok, I did start with the spicy Korean kimchi, I love the stuff I really do and me supplier of this delicacy is none other than the Weasil. He loves buying it because it comes in a large glass bottle and it looks like a brain rolling around inside. For some reason, this just fascinates the young whippersnapper to where he just stares at it for hours. Of course, he shakes it on occasion to get it bobbling around inside its liquid preservative. So there was THAT.
 |
| Um Um GOOD! Kimchi |
"Yeah, but he has a helicopter at the ready to fly him back to London. What do you have Gabe?"
She had a point she did.
Somehow, while I munched on the Korean delicacy and was discussing Kate and Wills, well . . . for some reason I think my stomach was trying to tell me to cut it out, enough kimchi already, but being somewhat stressed over THE discussion I kept eating more than I should have, and SOMEHOW we got into a discussion on Camilla and I dunno, it was a royal mess.
"You know Camilla is all excited about Kate and Will's heir to the throne. She seems to be playing in-palace mom to Kate." Tonya said, spurring me to eat more kimchi.
"The idea of Camilla being anything than the other woman . . . I just can't think of that in any other terms. It is all Charles's fault." I said. "Must be strange for pretty Kate to look upon those two, they resemble horses so much," I said.
Shortly after that, I went to bed just to escape. I popped a few Tums before then, yes I did, and then I took one of the wife's Ambien to make sure the tummy wasn't going to win out and keep me up all night. So that is the preliminaries to me nightmare.
Now for the nightmare. I know they say if you take Ambien you could wake up and do things you wouldn't normally do, and never know you did them. Like eat cardboard, or drive a car, or get on a plane to London and sneak into Buckingham Palace and . . . well do what I think I did. I be afraid I made the morning Daily Mail over there at least . . . well let me explain.
I vaguely remember getting up in the middle of the night and getting dressed in a suit and tie, polishing my dress shoes, grabbing me wallet and driving. Driving, driving, driving, no one hardly on the road to the airport. I bought a ticket (I think) but I can't account for that action, have no memory of it, just know that I must have got a ticket somehow. The next thing I remember, I am sitting in a plane seat looking down at London. Then there is a blank of time from then to me finding meself asleep in my own bed in me suit and tie with dress shoes still on, and sunglasses (I don't know where I got those), and the Daily Mail spread across my chest.
I know that doesn't seem like much of a nightmare but the wife was pissed off. I sat up as the newspaper fell into me lap, and realised the wife was sitting in a chair at the end of the bed, a cup of steaming coffee being sipped and two very narrow eyes looking at me.
"Are you proud of yourself?" She asked me.
"Huh? How did . . . when did I . . . why am I dressed in a suit?" I asked very confused.
"You tell me, Casanova." She said her voice angry.
"Wot?" I was very confused.
"Look at the front page of that rag," she gestured at the paper.
I picked it up and saw . . . oh what I saw . . .
"Can't be! CANNOT BE!" I said spreading the front page out and getting the full picture.
"Explain THAT," Tonya demanded.
"I can't. I don't remember . . . " or did I? Something about riding a horse. OH NO!
"You remember now, don't you? When you can come up with a good excuse let me know. It should be a doozy." Tonya said taking her coffee and leaving me with the Daily Mail and the most awful image I've ever seen on the front page of a tabloid newspaper. I be still trying to explain it. I blame it on Ambien. I do, I have to, what other explanation is there for THIS?
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
