Monday, August 8, 2011

Sometimes My Brain Is Awesome (Dreams Part XIX)

Sometimes I love my brain, part for rewarding me for striving to be awesome in my waking life, and part just for the wonderful crap it comes up with when I'm not looking.

In the last half-hour of sleep last night, I was an Indiana-Jones-esque manly-man badass, steeling the lost artifact I needed from an evil(?) cult of wealthy bastards before dropping off the remaining relic they thought they were really needing: the decomposing body of their holy saint, John the Thatcher (Margaret Thatcher's brother).

They drank some potion made of oarange juice and a cap of 5-Hour Energy out of a flask they found next to the body, I think to ensure they would remain oppressively wealthy or something. Of course, I removed the fun bits of John's casket, so even though I hand delivered it to watch their orgiastic Bacchanal, they'd be poor again my morning.

Then the tiny waif con artist/female lead made an Indiana Jones joke about clams (which is not from any Indiana Jones film, but it was in this universe, apparently a new one, since) my reply was to chase her across the room until she tripped over a picnic table bench because no one can run in an ankle-length slinky cocktail dress. She really thought I'd out her at the party as my sometimes-accomplice, but by the time I caught up to her all I did was pick her up and say, "Sorry, I've never seen that one.". And then there was a lot of kissing. Like, a lot a lot.

The original joke I made to get sarcasm'd at was something about clams.

Oh, did I mention the slinky badass cat burglar chick I was making out with at the end of my movie was Emma Watson? I probably should have mentioned that I made out with Emma Watson. In a blonde wig. I told her I liked her better as a brunette. I don't remember if she liked that.

(Because there was too much kissing.)

Sometimes, I love my brain. Thank you, brain.

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