In Your Wildest Dreams

Greetings beloved friends of the High Cheese. I am sure that there is some way to attempt some sort of fanfare for each and every one of you, because quite honestly, you all deserve some fanfare. I love you all so much.

Well, I have decided that, much like Richard Marx before me, the Muse is upon me. Seriously, everynight so far this week I have come home and written a new song, and in my humble opinion, they are all solid. Everyone is a hit. SOlid Gold, baby! I don't mean to brag, but Richard wouldn't mind me telling you: I think that my superstar alt-country/rock carreer is right on schedule. If that doesn't work out, there is always pro ball. You know how it is.

So last night I had a dream that I was having major siezures and couldn't hardly think or stay awake, but had to take a test for school. They wouldn't let me out even though I was having siezures. So I did real crappy on the test. I awoke frustrated.

Yesterday I awoke perplexed. This might be the wierdest dream ever, so I will share it with you. Please refrain from psychoanalyzing these dreams unless you are liscenced and certified. Otherwise, I don't need any help Ms. Warwick.

So I am at a school roller-skating party--an elementary school roller-skating party. Somehow the most wonderful woman in the universe and I are affiliated tightly enough with this random elementary school to be in the rollerink. What's more, so are our friends the Hogans (a family of five) and of course my brother and cousin (the Eskimobot and the SLAB respectively). All of us are too old, but nevertheless were there. Don't ask me.

To show their appreciation for us they offered us tremendous discounts on low line drum sets. They were not a good brand, but they had okay sound. They retailed normally around $500, but they were offering them to us--the appreciated--at the price of $90. $90 for a set of drums! I know! The only catch was that we had to practice on one of the drum sets before we could buy a set. So I sat down to practice, because I knew I wanted one...oddly enough, as I played (not well...I suck on drums even in my dreams), mashed potatoes came flying off and out from the heads every time I hit them.

"Gross!" I exclaimed. "They have mashed potatoes in them."

"Only the demo models," they explained. "When you buy a set, they are brand new."

"That's weird, cause they sound funny with all the potatoes in them."

"Just think, if they sound this good with potatoes in them, how good they will sound brand new!!!" What a salesman!

The dream turns even weirder right here. Becaue at this point I realize that aliens have abducted the Hogans--all five of them. I go hunting for them, and through a door in the corner I walk down a very technologically advanced hallway to get to a room with a grated metal floor and cables connecting the now silently standing still Hogans who have been forced to wear clouded clear plastic (like foggy shower doors). It was completely decent, but really weird.

So we figured out that in order to beat the aliens we had to all imagine the same thing together and then it would happen. First we imagined new walls for the room and hallway that way the aliens couldn't get in, then we imagined new silver outfits for the Hogans (Purple lobeyed but silver won). Finally we went and battled a few aliens boxing them in with imagined walls.

The fight was going well in our favor, but the skate party was winding down, so I decided I was ready to go. After walking outside, I complained to my mom, who was now suddenly there, that I had meant to buy one of those $90 drum sets. So we talk our way back in--no small task--and we are able to buy a drum set, but not until after I was wrong about whether or not she could use her checkcard. She could. So she bought it for me...che said she really wanted to buyu it for me. Whatever.

Everything was cool, but one of my drum heads still had a little mashed potato in it, but I figured, "Ninety bucks! Who cares. I can clean that up."

Aliens! They're all aliens. And the Hogans were abducted again and put in the plastic wrap again. Why couldn't they keep from being abducted? I had managed it. So we rescued them.

My brother took my drums to his place and kind of moved in on them like they were his. We fought some aliens at his place, and the Hogans got abducted again. After winning, I took my drums, put them in the most incredible woman in the universe's car, and drove off the fight more aliens.

That is it.

I guess that these vivid dreamscapes of pain are the price I must pay in order to have the muse upon me. I am a trortured artist with a tortured soul of the truest sorts.

God save the Cheese.