I woke up this morning violently angry at my mother-in-law. Why? Well, because in my dream last night we were shopping at a colossal Costco (think Idiocracy) and she went to pick up an empty Christmas tin from a massive, shoulder-high cardboard box full of empty Christmas tins. I told her I had three unused tins at home that she could have for free. She said thanks, and I happily started to move towards the lawn dart section. But then…THEN…she went right back to picking out Christmas tins anyway.
Can you believe the nerve of that woman?
Look at me! I’m getting all riled up again just thinking about it. I was so mad when I woke up that I couldn’t even talk to Rocco. I totally gave him the silent treatment until I peed, drank some water, and finally those last whisps of sleep disappeared.
Then I felt a tidge foolish.
First, it was a frickin’ $2 Christmas tin. Second, it wasn’t my money. Third, why shouldn’t a grown woman be able to buy whatever the hell she wants? Fourth, did I mention it was a silly $2 Christmas tin?
Oh right, there’s also that whole technically-I-shouldn’t-get-real-life-mad-at-someone-for-something-they-did-in-a-dream thing.
But I can’t help it! It’s genetic. Just ask my dad. That poor bastard has woken up to a swift kick in the ass from Mom on more than one occasion. Needless to say, he now knows better than to sneak off into a grassy meadow with Stephi Graph and spend the afternoon braiding daisies into her flowing locks.
The thing is, other than that dream about my mother-in-law’s round, glitter-encrusted, metallic boxes…and some weird dream where I was trying to write an article for ToyWithMe about using Super Soakers as sex toys, I don’t think I slept last night.
*thirty minutes pass*
Right. So. It seems I don’t have a witty way to wrap this up seeing as how I keep dozing off while staring at the keyboard. So I will follow the lead of the wise and eloquent Dr. Horrible and just say…
*faint sound of snoring*
My husband is used to me waking up pissed off at him for something did in my dream. He probably has some sort of syndrome from living with me.
I think it’s lucky bastard syndrome. 🙂
Dude, Rocco totally deserved to be punished for his mother’s wastefulness. We are in economic hard times. Oh wait, technically speaking, the only way we will recover is if people buy more $2 metal glittery tins. Wait again, they were glittery. All things glittery should be purchased, coveted and loved.
Also, super soakers AREN’T meant to be sex toys? Oh Jupiter’s cock! This should have been brought up sooner.
I don’t need an enema in my hooch.
My wife punched me awake one night. she says that she was asleep and I was being a shit in her dream. that didn’t explain the smirk, though.
Heh. I’d smirk, too.
I hate those dreams. I almost felt sorry (in my dream) for pissing off a certain NFL quarterback (known for hanging out in college bars looking for women before being accused of rape…twice) by refusing to put out. And then I got angry at him all over again when his team made it to the Super Bowl.
I forget you’re such a football nut. Are you going to coach me through this Super Bowl thing?
I recently dreamed two pictures of my Grammy came to life. One was the awesome, ballsy, hula-skirt wearing minx I remember her as, the other spent the whole dream stirring an empty bowl with a spoon, keeping it away from me and glaring like I’m the one who tried to scan her oxygen tank at Wal-Mart!
I woke up wondering what the hell I did wrong! I still don’t know! I’d rather wake up pissed at her than have her giving me the stink-eye from the grave!
Ok, I’ll shup up now.
Your granny should hang with Sex, Drugs and Bacon Sandwiches’ wee granny.
um maybe not as a sex toy, because ouch, but for some low-cost colonics …
1) Why were you dreaming about your mother-in-law? Is there something important you need to announce like ‘wine is on sale at the corner so put on your red light like Roxanne’?
2) SSsextoy: You point that thing at me and I will hide away faster than balls hitting cold water!
3) Get some rest. Your eternal internal dream loop is set to begin again in 5, 4, 3, 2, and rolling (*point to you.)
I am always amazed when I wake up ashamed of my self because of what I did in a dream.
I always ashamed of what I watch you do in my sleep.
I get celebrity cameos in my dreams constantly. They sneak up quietly while I’m having tea and cookies with the wolfman and offer me another cuppa.
I’ve seen hollywood royalty such as Robert DeNiro, pre-self imposed New Mexico exile Val Kilmer, Susan Sarandon, and Elisabeth Shue.
Also if I can get the wevibe to work, I see no reason why the super soaker can’t be used in a loving an creative way!
One of you lucky ladies who don’t do shellfish might also want to christen your signifigant other “the super soaker” just to add a little pizazz to your night.
Was that too much?
So…we’re supposed to strap a super soaker to lamb chop’s head?
Just so you know, a standard has been set
That guy makes my fingers weep. Bastard.
My dream last night involved Australia, a buckboard wagon and a big smoked ham. WTF? I think your dream was better because it had glitter. I’m mad at your MiL too, that bitch.
I really like ham? I don’t know what else to say to that…
I’d only be pissed if the Christmas tins weren’t full of candy. No candy, then I don’t want no stinking tin.
I prefer them filled with fresh-baked brownies. I have a brownie problem. Can you tell?
More than once I had dreams in which my husband did or said something that was so infuriating (more than in reality if it’s even possible) that I woke up wanting to punch him. Actually, I did. Supersoaker as sex toy eh? I am game. Just please oh don’t give guys even more ideas.
I swear IN the dream it seemed brilliant. So did banana shoes, though.
Hmm… perhaps if the supersoaker were loaded with Chateaux Le Flav, and there was snail porn involved.
Great Jupiters Cock! It just might work!
I love that NONE of that is getting old. Unlike LiLo’s crotch. Woo!
I’d have hated her too – I mean, you were giving your shit away for free! Pfft.
If I had a nickle for every time someone refused what I was giving away for free…
Last week, my mother insulted the clothes I had just bought. Why didn’t she tell me when I was buying them, or at least before I took the tags off? She said she never would have spent her money on that.
Then, according to my father, that same night, she went on a cross-country bus trip with an old flame.
Your mom is one of those gals from Absolutely Fabulous, isn’t she?
That would be so rad.
I’m still pissed off at something my grandfather did in my dream about 40 years ago. And he’s been dead for 38 years.
Comments are closed.