I had a nightmare which I can no longer remember. I was reading last night about a Nazi spy, but it wasn’t about that, although I don’t know why I’m sure of that because I can’t remember it. When I first woke, I thought, NIGHTMARE, and I knew the gist of the dream; I think I noted that it wasn’t related to the book.  Oh, well, I am staying awake for a while . . . just because I feel like it  . . . not that I’m afraid to go back to sleep or anything. Yeah, right.

I once dreamed that I wound up with a group of 30’s gangsters and we were in a car that crashed into the woods when we missed a fork in the road and the Fed’s were all around and we were doomed. Sometimes I think the “Oh, my God, how did I get into this mess” memory of that dream keeps me on the straight and narrow.

Oh, no, that straight and narrow idiom just typed itself; no thought of symbolism with the fork in the road. But, wait, the straight and narrow is what got us into the shoot ’em out situation. I think our driver must have been a secret admirer of poetry and was thinking about The Road Not Taken; he must have been too literal. i mean, “Mugsy, that doesn’t mean leaving the pavement!” I’ll bet I’m over-thinking this.

The visual aid is a little over the top, too, dontcha think?

I did not watch the Super Bowl – but I heard it from the other room. Or, more accurately, I heard the yells and catcalls that drowned out the commentary. Then as the game neared the end and the Giants had the lead, two people ran in and announced: 57 seconds left. Then they ran back in to the TV.  I heard a series of visceral despairing cries and moans and near sobs and then .  . .  much cheering. I feel I helped them win by not watching – that’s the way my luck was going this season.

Of course, I missed the commercials, but I imagine I’ll be seeing them replayed, given the cost to put them on the air during the game. Oh, rats, I haven’t been watching TV since I got my Kindle. Well, I’ll look them up on the Internet. Obviously, this is just mindless rambling here – bear with me, please . . . I’m indulging myself.

Cameron has discovered the movie Deliverance, but is hesitant to watch it. I believe his imagination is taking him to places where the movie might have gone had it been made in 2011 instead of 1972. He could watch it the way he used to watch scary movies when he was little – from underneath a blanket. Now, Summer was more of a “behind the sofa” watcher – sort of like having a Jack in the Box behind you. Oddly enough, they both took great delight in getting me to watch Snakes on a Plane.  (If it had not been so over the top, I would have been watching from behind the sofa and with two blankets over my head.)

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Special note to Pottermom: Super Bowl Sunday – I thought of you.

LZP sent an email to Der Bingle about an internal combustion cow in a parking lot at Wal-Mart; the picture found a home at People of Wal-Mart.

And here it is:

I thought, “I KNOW THAT COW!” I put “cow limo” in the search slot and found THIS POST.

It’s a Redbox movie and I watched it. Der Bingle alerted me to it because Cameron has taken over my title of Watcher of Horrible Movies.  I exclaimed, “Two-Headed Shark  . . .  are you kidding?” When I mentioned it to Cameron, He replied, “Oh, yeah, I think I’ve heard of that.” Then as I continued walking into the dining room, I thought I heard him add to his response that it was “Two-Headed Shark ATTACK.” What the heck? He knew that?? I had to look on Redbox to verify “attack” was in the title.

And then I tried to rent it. It was out of stock in the Redbox machines here, so I vultured back to the site over the next half day and BAM! It showed up at the Redbox at Walgreen’s. I rented it. He watched it that night. I watched it the next day, which was yesterday.

I spent the rest of the day recovering. (Probably the partial nudity shocked me.)

No, not me.  But Pottermom can say it truthfully, and I so envy her. It just had to be a post title. Her full remark was:

I not only know how to fix a garbage disposal but I know how to castrate bulls.  I think that removes me from the helpless woman category.

Oh, God, yes.

POTTERMOM’S STATEMENT:

I not only know how to fix a garbage disposal but I know how to castrate bulls.  I think that removes me from the helpless woman category.

Woo-hoo. I’m a Pottermom wannabe. I want to take a bull castration course – do they have an online one or correspondence one – so I can  put this on my tee shirts.

Pottermom – You are now the heroine  of all the (female) folks here at The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse and the guys hear your name and snap to attention.

ALL THIS in reference to the post below . . . THIS ONE.

Well, I just had a satisfied moment. I looked at a post about all the special things a lady was doing about lunches and there were pictures of the little lunches, and a picture of her newly cleaned out and shiny refrigerator, not to mention one of a shiny gadget that reflected a house that looked as if it belonged in Better Homes & Gardens. Actually, this was one of those posts that  are in that great magazine in the ether: Better Living Than You. Of course, I made that up, because I am a snarky little slob.

However, in the last part of her remarks about her day, she mentioned the garbage disposal quit and she had to call her husband, who was on a business trip, to find out what to do. Oddly enough, he texted her the information about a handyman.

Ah,  you don’t put out a box of tissues, but line up origami works of art – yes, go ahead, blow your nose on the giraffe. (Okay, I also made that up – although I wouldn’t be surprised if it were out there.) However, you have never heard of using a (wooden) broom handle to give the disposal a little jolt?  You make money off of crafty sites on the internet and yet you cannot do a little search about troubleshooting garbage disposals?

I know I am being testy here. Maybe I will work my way out of that mood during the day – or I could just let Sophie whack me upside the head with a broom handle. And, yes, as a witch, I do have quite a collection.