Lately I’ve been having really weird dreams. Normally I don’t dream or at least I don’t remember my dreams. I have had two this week.

The first one involved my editor for the City Wire, the waiter from Mexican restaurant that Word to Me and I eat at every Friday, and some unknown blond woman. My editor was the owner/proprietor of this cowboy store/radio station that was having a big Treasure Hunt prize giveaway thing. The waiter was the spokesperson for the cowboy store/radio station. The blond woman was in charge of hiding these treasure maps that served as clues to the location of the prize. She sucked at hiding the maps and I would find them way too early in the game. So, everytime I would find a map, this big group of rodeo clowns, sort of the muscle for the cowboy store/radio station, would jump me and take the maps back. Then the blond lady would hide them again and I would immediately find them, because she sucked at hiding them, and would immediately get jumped again. Stupid rodeo clowns.

Last night’s dream involved the Physics professor at the University being a serial killer. And he lived in my parent’s old house. He was working for the Asian guy from Raiders of the Lost Ark and was harvesting limbs to sell as meat on the Black Market. It actually had a lot to do with science, but I don’t remember the connection. All I known is that I ultimately beat him to death with what I think was a roofing hammer. He just wouldn’t die and he just kept watching television. I think he might have been wearing a lampshade for a hat.

This is what I bludgeoned my future Physics professor to death with.

Having dreams is stupid. Not nearly as stupid as having to return the kittens, though. (sniffle, sniffle. eyes tearing up.) Ahem. From now on we shall refer to them as the Test Subjects from Experiment One. And returning them was heartbreaking. The really nice thing is that they got to keep their names and we were assured that they look healthy (good job us), are cute and very friendly, and would more than likely be adopted quickly. We were also assured that if for some reason they do not get adopted, we will be called and we can get them back, though it was little comfort to us upon our return home to a quiet and Test Subjectless house. Due to emotionally unstable nature of Pancake Land yesterday, an emergency Taco Night was called for. So, I made tacos. Also, I had to do something that I had been threatening to do for a while. I knew last night I had better nut up or shut up before it was too late. This next part is my tribute to Dark Wombat.

When Dark Wombat came into town, from Japan, for his Winter break he made only one request. He wanted to Double Down. At Grismas, the Double Down had yet to reach our neck of the woods, so his request went unfulfilled. When the Double Down finally showed up here, I knew it was my destiny to eat one for him. For those of you out there who don’t know what a Double Down is, it is quite simple. Close your eyes and in your mind start stacking things up as I name them off. One Original recipe fried chicken fillet, special sauce, a slice of Monterey Jack cheese, two pieces of bacon, a slice of Pepper Jack cheese, special sauce, and another Original recipe fried chicken fillet. That’s it. It’s a cheese and bacon sandwich served in between two pieces of fried chicken instead of bread. Dark Wombat had heard of this thing on the innernet somewhere and new he had to get one to show his Japanese students how insane Americans are. So, in honor of Dark Wombat, and the nation of Japan, I Doubled Down.

It looks bigger in the advertisements.

It tastes exactly as you would expect it to. It tastes like a piece of Original recipe fried chicken topped with cheese and bacon. Those things overpowered the special sauce, thereby rendering it superfluous. I only ate half of it for fear that my heart would instantly burst into greasy flames. Plus, there was no way I was missing out on tacos.

So, yesterday after returning the Test Subjects, I worked on my mugs for the Northern crew, and worked on getting signed up for classes for the Fall. Plus, the new garage door was in place well before noon. It locks from the outside as well as from the inside, so now I can come and go on my trike, without having to leave her outside when I go in to drop my stuff off. I had a bad habit of forgetting to put her up when I did that. Luckily no one took her.

There is no telling what I’ll be doing today for Le Duke. Probably lugging brick or painting pedestals. We’ll see soon enough. On that note I’m off. More soon. ~SC