Maybe I Should Wear My Funny White Jacket More Often

Please forgive the repetition, but here is the rest of the story I began yesterday.

I was once told by an "interesting" soul all about their personal believes about the town I currently live in and that they have spent their entire live living in. He & his 2 sisters both firmly believed that the reason the town had such bizarre luck was that it was the desecrated remains of an ancient Indian burial ground. And the area their family home was in was a major part of this burial ground, which was why their house was so prone to haunting. Let me say, that if ever there was a family in need of serious counseling, Dr. Phil's personal attention, and Oprah's money, this family was it.

Example 1: The only son was not only hit by an elderly woman, but the elderly woman then backed over him, ran over him again, and then backed over him again. She still claims she never saw him and was confused by the fact that she did not recall there being any speed bumps on that road. He weighs well over 200 lbs, and stands over 6'.
Example 2: The father was literally born without an anus.
Example 3: The sisters have some distinctly unique interpretations of wicca and paganism. OK?

During the mercifully brief period of time I had anything to do with this family, I learned a variety of things. One of them is that if ever a house was haunted, theirs was. There were rooms that would be freezing to the point of ice forming even though there were spaces heaters running year round. This is South Georgia - it never gets that cold! There were rooms that you could not enter even though the door was wide open. Stuff along those lines. What made it really entertaining was the ghosts. I never saw one, but according to the siblings, the one female ghost was rather, ah hem, amorous. The ghost also seemed to swing both ways. I deliberately refused to hear those stories, because that was waaaaay too much information.

The sisters views of paganism and wicca are still worth a laugh. My favorite will always be how they firmly believed that an avatar of Herne lived in the woods along the outskirts of town. They also kept trying tried to convince a friend of mine that her totem animal was not an animal, but a tree. The number of flaws in that idea are pretty self-explanatory, I hope.

Changing subjects, but one of the books I have on the way here at work is Alan Alda's new memoir called "Never Have Your Dog Stuffed." The 2 links are for the cnn.com article and the official book website. I should have the book by Friday and be finished with it within a few days, depending on what all I have to do and what else I get. What I have read so far sounds hilarious.

And another complete change of subject, but I had several weird dream segments last night. I can not get them out of my head and they are just disturbing. Exmi, I think these might top yours.

The 1st was just strange. I was in a car talking with my new boyfriend (?), maybe, perhaps, I have no clue who he was. Just know that there was a strange resemblance to several of the manga/anime characters I enjoy. We were on our way to his races/species compound where he would shed his "glamour" and if I could accept his price, he would accept mine. (Don't ask. Too embarrassing.) Once we parked, he got out, walked around, opened the door, and then helped me kneel while he collared me. We then entered the compound where gorgeous woman was standing, watching this totally buff man doing calisthenics to Queen's "We are the Champion." (Yes, that was weird in & of itself.) We then walked into this room and he, well, shimmered.

I woke up at that point wondering just what the hell was in those crackers I had to eat before bed. I officially swear that I will never eat pickles and crackers before bed again because I have dreams like these.

But the most bizarre dream segment I remember was this. I was sitting on an overstuffed sofa with someone with short dark hair. We were watching "The Guns of Navaroe." On the TV was John Wayne sitting on the pot, pants around his ankles, reading the newspaper, with June Cleaver in her pearls & high heels sitting beside him on a stool, knitting. Incredibly strange. The rest of my dream segments, well, they were incredibly detailed & graphic. It has obviously been far too long because I have managed to go for nearly my entire life without dreams this graphic. They were detailed to the point that going out the nearest dating meat market almost sounds appealing.

Since I blog at work and we have net nannies, I am going to leave this as a teaser. ;-)