Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Detoxi-Flying Nightmare!

I am tapering my alcohol intake to a glass at night. This sabbatical will only last until a day before Xmas and excludes all weekends.

Do dreams sometimes have the uncanny ability to influence or completely bugger-up your whole day?

Mine do and don’t they just...

That is why something smells of decomposed rat today. I woke up at 06h50 with the foul-tasting dregs of disbelief from the most personal degree of nightmares protruding from my astonished “O-shaped” lips.

No pouts there, I was simply aghast.

It started with a dream by a dam in a field. Couldn’t hear any frog song as I barbequed meat, but I know it was of the non-frog-leg-variety. Horror stirred when I realized the over-cooked meat started multiplying on the grill...

I then joined a group with the majority of members male. How odd. Anyway, I am convinced they were a cult of sorts and the kind of evil ones that breeds contempt and unlawful coo-coo too.

Can't help to still spit rage at what happened, as I remember them asking me to agree to do away with two of the most vital things for survival for one very long week:

Stop taking alcohol

Stop wearing make-up

Heart-wrenching torture, really. Worse was to come when it was demonstrated how I had to give the people I hate most in life, a warm and friendly hug and tell them just how much I love them. Oprah Winfrey would have chuckled at this, but I think we rather leave this part without any room for comment.

A stern looking block of a woman planted herself in front of me, obscuring my view, and told me to get onto a scale. I said I couldn’t weigh more than 70 kg’s. This is scary – why did I not say anything less than 50 kg's? I hopped onto the darn scale and said it really wasn’t necessary because I knew I had lost a LOT of weight.

The astronomical colossal burdened lump-obsessed vermin did not react to what I said, but commented with a disgusted tone of voice: “You weigh 82 KG!”

At this stage I should have slapped her. Lying lorry. And so blatantly.

“That can’t possibly be right. Look at me and say you see 82 kg’s”

Cocking square head to one side and with an unfunny witchy tilt to the toad mouth, the beast said:

“I see 82 KG’s.”

How could she!

I stalked off to the next room to see a row of lined up guys. Their skin looked unspeakably infested with oozing eczema papilla and the worst ever acne I have ever seen. I knew that detoxifying my obese body would lead to this and that not being allowed to use make-up would send me to an early death and unmade coffin. Nobody would see me alive with such unsightly grubby mole-heaps camping out on my face!

I had to get away, because all of that and no alcohol for sanity were too much to bear and then I wanted to tear off my clothes with my teeth and drown in myself in my very own tears...

And thank all the good things I then woke up...

1 comment:

Brother Tobias said...

That's a strange one, and no mistake! Something you ate? I'm still puzzling over 'unlawful coo-coo' I'm not sure what it is, but it sounds rather fun...