Dreams and imaginings, super poetic, not

Conversation with my sister.

Me:

oh i just remembered you were in my dream this morning

we were about to have some coffee in a car or something and then the fire department stopped us and said we could not drink in the car as it was a choking hazard and they took our coffee mugs and water bottles

And I cried

Then i tried to twitter about it in outrage but couldn’t get my twitter app to work

we were both going “this is bullshit! and we haven’t had our COFFEE!!!”

Sister:

i had a whole pointless fantasy this morning that i was taking a watercolor class from this guy who only paints half naked women. so in the workshop i waxed poetic about painting mens balls and how important it was to get the effects of light glinting off ball hair.

needless to say i will NOT be taking that workshop

i considered taking the workshop and actually doing this. but quickly discarded the idea.

also: white guy: mostly painting partially clothed women of color gazing into the distance. probably/hopefully plotting his death

I really thought my crying in my sleep about firefighters stealing my morning coffee was going to win some sort of award for ridiculousness but the waking dream of telling off a real life annoying art teacher eclipsed it.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.