Yada yada

I wasn't going to do this, but I couldn't resist adding a comment to pauln's LJ. So I suppose it's only fair to put ther meme here, too.

"Please post a memory of me in the comments. It can be anything you want. Then please post this to your journal and see what people remember of you"

Sportingly, I have decided not to lock out the comments option.

Yada yada

I wasn't going to do this, but I couldn't resist adding a comment to pauln's LJ. So I suppose it's only fair to put ther meme here, too.

"Please post a memory of me in the comments. It can be anything you want. Then please post this to your journal and see what people remember of you"

Sportingly, I have decided not to lock out the comments option.

In the hands of Morpheus.

I think the old brane must be melting.

I have been a little too busy to write anything today, but this has been wandering around the old melon since I woke up this morning. It's not often that I remember a dream, and unfortunately, this one has largely faded. As usual with such things, a psychologist could probably have a field day, but hey: who cares, right?

What was interesting about this dream was less the bizarre sequence events - involving wandering around a deserted farm house in the pitch dark, wondering why someone had nabbed my mobile phone and getting more and more frustrated by its loss - than the dramatis personae.

In addition to me (of course), there was my nephew, my eldest niece - although only briefly, and this is the odd one, Dewey from Malcolm in the Middle. I think that little sod was orchestrating events, evil genius that he is. But what he was doing in my dream, I have no idea.

Time to put the shrink on danger money, baby.

In the hands of Morpheus.

I think the old brane must be melting.

I have been a little too busy to write anything today, but this has been wandering around the old melon since I woke up this morning. It's not often that I remember a dream, and unfortunately, this one has largely faded. As usual with such things, a psychologist could probably have a field day, but hey: who cares, right?

What was interesting about this dream was less the bizarre sequence events - involving wandering around a deserted farm house in the pitch dark, wondering why someone had nabbed my mobile phone and getting more and more frustrated by its loss - than the dramatis personae.

In addition to me (of course), there was my nephew, my eldest niece - although only briefly, and this is the odd one, Dewey from Malcolm in the Middle. I think that little sod was orchestrating events, evil genius that he is. But what he was doing in my dream, I have no idea.

Time to put the shrink on danger money, baby.