Lesbians ate my Amish Pancakes & Other Sordid Tales

I'm so fucking sleep deprived. I went to bed shortly before 10 last night because I was tired. I had trouble falling asleep, and when I did finally doze off, I had a couple of freaky dreams, including one about opening up a pancake house that was frequented ONLY by lesbians. My son decided that 3:30 AM was a great time to wake up and nothing I did could make him go back to sleep. So, I finally gave in at 4:45 and got up.

So, in my lesbian pancake dream, I owned an all night pancake house that served nothing but pancakes. Just pancakes - plain ones. No blueberries or chocolate chips. Just plain old pancakes & syrup. No side dishes. The only drinks I served were coffee, water and orange juice. And in my infinite wisdom that I always have in my dreams, I decided that the Amish would make the best fucking pancakes ever. And I hired them as my cooks. I had 5 of them, all women. All of my wait staff were overweight, out of work wanna-be actors who often broke into monologues while serving the lesbians. And then, there were the bus boys. In my dream, they were all children. They provided the comic relief and yelled things like "The lesbians at table 6 need more pancakes - STAT!" And all of the bus-children called me "Mumma", like they were from the back woods of West Virginia. And the place was always packed to capacity - with lesbians. No one else ever came in. Or if they did, they pretended to be lesbians. Nothing really happened in my dream - just the workings of the pancake house. I don't even know what the name of it was. Perhaps it was a sign that this is what I should be doing with my time. Perhaps it was the fact that all I had for dinner was some toast.

And then there was this dream: I was walking down a street carrying a toy shovel and pail. The pail was filled with staples that go in a staple gun. And I was walking past houses where everyone was out on their porch. Those who were sitting, I waved to and smiled. If they were standing, I darted up to their porch, pushed them down into a chair or a swing and then took out a staple and used the shovel to pound the staple through their pants - I was stapling them to the chair or swing so that they couldn't get up. And no, they weren't all lesbians. I woke up from this dream laying on my right side. My right hand was holding my left boob. My left hand was grasping my left ass cheek. I don't know if that is related to my dreams in any way - but I noticed it.

I've often wondered if somewhere there is a church where all of the parishoners are homosexual and they preach that heterosexual people are evil. And if there is, are they struggling with whether or not to finally allow heterosexuals into their churches?

I want to know if the person who came up with the idea of Clifford the Big Red Dog was on drugs when they came up with the idea of a giant fucking RED dog.

I wonder what time is "normal" for a 3 year old kid to go to bed and how long he should be napping for. I don't think this current schedule is working for me.

I wish we could do away with Daylight Savings time and just let whatever happens with the time happen. I hate the changing of the clocks - I'm convinced that is what screws up people's sleep patterns. It starts when you're a kid and it never ends. You just get more and more fucked up because 2 days a year, there are NOT 24 hours in a day.

I think I need to make some more coffee. I also think I need to set aside some time today for the Venus Butterfly II. My little purple butterfly friend needs some love. Maybe I'll take her to the grocery store with me. THAT would be a wildly fun trip. I'd be standing there, picking out vegetables, flip the switch and have an orgasm right there by the broccoli. Then, I'd watch and see how many people who were in the general area at the time go over to get some broccoli because I made it look so appealing. And then, the store would hire me to have orgasms in front of whatever food it is they wanted to sell a lot of that day. I'd be a natural at that. And perhaps it would enable me to make a little extra money to save up for the pancake house and a real staple gun.

So, those are my thoughts on this cold, sleepy, Saturday morning. Here's hoping for a great day - and an opportunity for a nap.