i'm browner than brown

Today I purposefully sang in the grocery store in front of an old lady. At first I was singing to myself because as I turned the corner, nobody was there…or so I thought…and then I spied the old lady and she spied me.

And I stopped.

And then I said, I said to myself…WTF?

And I continued.

Complete with facial expressions…eyebrow inflections.

It’s true.

And I didn’t care.

But then, later on, in the beer/cheese/chips/eggs aisle, I guess I was talking to myself because my friends came up to me later and said that some guy came up to them and said,

“are you with that girl up there ?you better hurry up and get with her cuz she’s talking to herself.”

And I was like, he did not.

And they were like, yes he did.

And I thought to myself, was I talking to myself?

And I couldn’t really remember.

Even though it happened seconds before.

But I probably was.

That’s cool. I think people who talk to themselves are far more interesting than people who just talk and talk and talk to people and don’t say anything.

In fact, just this morning, I was asleep and dreaming of a blogger I’ve never met, but in my dream he materialized, in a form or fashion that my subconscious conjured up…which turned out to be most appealing.

He and I were somewhere and when he hugged me, it filled me up with heat and the closest thing to love, like a battery recharging with butterflies and joy. I was there to suck his dick, like it was an agreement of some sort. Not at all degrading and one sided, for I wanted his hot, fleshy love sausage inside my wet mouth. I truly wanted to suck his cock like it had the antidote and I was dying of some fatal poison.

But right before it was supposed to go down, he brought in another guy who apparently wanted me like the only size 8 Lucky jeans on the sale rack. The desire in his eyes was palpable and his eyes looked like crying. I immediately wanted to hold him in my lap and stroke his hair and tell him everything would be fine.

But instead, the blogger I was supposed to be dick swallowing, told me to swallow the new guy’s dick and of course I complied as he watched. New guy held my head and thrust his hips and I held him in my mouth with the strength of my suction and the strength of my tongue and cheeks. I wanted to finish him so I could get to the blogger dreamguy I was there to swallow.

I wanted to eat his dick so bad. It was like I had been waiting my entire life to do it.

But, as the misfortune of all dreams go, I woke up.

Before any cock sucking could go down.

Stupid dreams.

But at least I saw a skatepark.

And three ostriches.

And a little Mexican lady with both arms full and a huge watermelon on her head. Walking.

That made it all worthwhile.

Sorta.

And a bit of advice…when you get into a fight about Cloris Leachman, it’s probably really Jean Stapleton.

Shake n bake.