Tom Ramcigam (magicmarmot) wrote,
Tom Ramcigam

Spank the Monkey, Flog the Donkey

I'm avoiding talking about the election. I've had my fill, thank you.

Bizarre dream last night. I was at a convenience store when somebody mentioned a job at a radio station that I was interested in. I went to the radio station, and they had built an addition onto the station that was intended to be a shopping mall, but there was nobody in it. It was perfect for a studio.
I recognized a woman there that I thought worked at the radio station, and I started talking to her about what it would take to get this place as a studio. Turns out she didn't work at the station, but I knew her from LiveJournal.

We went back to her house. Somehow along the way we picked up eldogo, and were apparently there for some sort of party. My cell phone rang, and it was Dawn, my ex-wife: something had gone wrong, either somebody was missing or someone had died; she wasn't making sense. She was with Rocky, and she put him on the phone, but he wasn't making sense either, and the phone died. I tried calling back, but the phone dialing interface had become this arcane piece of technology that was incredibly cumbersome to use, and I couldn't get through. I ended up having to pull the battery to reboot the phone.

In the meantime, the girl that I had met earlier had made sandwiches. They weren't very good, and they had tomatoes in them. I tried taking the tomatoes out, but the sandwiches started to bleed, and they bled all over her freshly-washed towels. I took the towels into the living room and started playing tug-of-war with the dogs when Dawn called again and was frantic, asking me if I could come over. She still wasn't making sense, so she handed me to Rocky, who didn't make very much sense either because he was so upset. I got the impression that someone had died, but I couldn't make out who or where they were, then he hung up.

In the meantime, more people had showed up for the party, including a guy with longish hair in a wheelchair, and another guy with a slighly misshapen face.

Ron Jeremy is coming to Des Moines, making an appearance at The Lumberyard (strip club). I'd like to go and meet him and talk with him about filmmaking stuff, but I don't really have the cash available to be hanging out at a strip club this weekend. And I'm really not in the mood to be enjoying beautiful naked women. Not that I don't appreciate them, just not able to enjoy them.

I did a little more work on the corpse last night. Bodywork now. But I ended up feeling really wonky from the low blood sugar, and I went to bed around 8:30. I was also really cold, and huddling under the blankets seemed like a good idea. I bumped the thermostat up to 68° now, but I seem to be a lot more sensitive to cold than I have ever been before.

Today I am fairly convinced that I don't ever want to be in a relationship again. Sure, that may change. But lately I've been seeing a lot of uncomfortable issues that are cropping up in relationships, and they are things that I really don't have any urge to deal with ever again.

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