titusnowl: (I'd hit it)
So I had this dream and it was like animated it was like watching some kind of Venture Brothersy cartoon

So this chick met this dude named Hunter Dangerman (it's not Danger Man, it's Dangerman, like Friedman, y'know), who was basically, you know, Brock Samson meets Captain Kirk and shit, buff as hell and butt chin and all, but he was a nice guy if a bit... um... troubled.  And the chick and the dude fell in love, and finally Hunter Dangerman decided to bring her back to show her ~HIS ORIGINS~.

So they drive up there in their '60s station wagon and all along, right, all along we've been having these like foreshadowing moments where Hunter Dangerman is afraid something's going to happen to his new wife, "just like HER" dun dun DUN (the witchboy!).  And up at ~HIS ORIGINS~, which is like hell of up in the mountains with all such as pine trees and stuff, we meet his ex (one of his exes)

who is a female Joker essentially.  Very lolhottopic looking.  Pale, crazy hair, kind of androgynous.  Her mother was a witch and stuff I guess.  And the Joker chick gets her own little flashback where she's talking directly to the camera about how she and Hunter used to do such ~nasty~ thingssss.... like /kissssss/.... (yeah she talked like Gollum or something I don't even) and her mother cuts in with a "Dear, do you really think everyone needs to know about that" and she's all "UGH GOSH MOM JUST SHUT UP"

Hunter Dangerman's like actual ex as opposed to his psycho ex was a woman who looked EXACTLY LIKE THE MAIN CHICK only brunette instead of blonde.  The psycho ex, like, THREW HER OFF A MOUNTAIN.

But that's all I remember of it :C
titusnowl: (Default)

Jen and I decided to head up to Chicago, where we'd heard there was a Time-Travel Sears!  It looked like an ordinary Sears with just one story, but if you could find the elevators, one of them would take you back in time, and the other would return you home.  It took you back to the '70s in a primarily black part of the city, so there was a possibility of culture clash, but the sales were supposed to be immense.  Never one to give up an opportunity for time travel, I jumped at it.  We had some trouble because we found the wrong elevator the first time, but eventually we made it to the proper one and emerged in the ladies' room in the '70s.  We got some great housewares on sale, and came back.

As long as we were in the area, we decided to go elsewhere and visit [livejournal.com profile] killbot , who was living with Her Grandfather, played by Archie Bunker, in a very large old Victorian in a mostly-wooded area - the nearest neighbours were another huge rambling Victorian house, which was a Punk Rock House into which she hoped to move soon, and the oddly modern outbuildings of a nearby college, including the music building.  Her Grandfather called us all into the front parlour to watch the telly, where I saw Glen Beck on TV for the first time, and discovered that he was autotuned.  Not into singing, just very subtly to make his voice more melodic to the listener.  He was ripping into some AMAZING SCIENTIFIC CREATION which I knew to be ENTIRELY TRUE but which he was making fun of just because a liberal had invented it.  I got angry and started making fun of the fact that he was autotuned by singing the closed captioning aloud with him, and then changing the words into a parody. 

Then we all went outside into the foresty night, and discovered that the residents of the Punk Rock House were having a FIRE PARADE WITH MUSIC.  Someone had an accordion, someone else an acoustic guitar, there was a fiddle and a drummer.  I strapped on my bass and joined the parade.  We covered a Scarring Parties song and some Decemberists and then began a jam session, all the while just marching around on this little gravel road through the woods with a bunch of people carrying lit torches.  We ended the parade by making a bonfire in a berry patch just outside the college music building.  We heard someone playing piano inside and they invited us musicians in, where we all worked together to write a song about Glen Beck being an asshole.


In other news, I'm planning to drag Jen and Justin out to Natchitoches as soon as the thunder stops.

Today I am wearing:  skinny indigo jeans (Old Navy), one of Justin's ribbed A-shirts (Hanes), a plaid flannel shirt in forest green with narrow white plaid (obtained from an outdoors store, I forget the brand and don't want to take it off to check the tag), a brown herringbone tweed flat-cap (Old Navy Men), a necklace which consists of a carved flower made of mother-of-pearl hanging on a leather thong (no idea where I got it), a men's Fossil analog/digital spy watch (bronze case, brown leather strap), way too much eye makeup (raccoon eyeliner and dark, subtly-green eyeshadow, both by Rimmel of London), nude lipstick (Avon), brown leather boots with buckles at the ankle (French army surplus, obtained from Sportsman's Guide).  I call this ensemble Sexy Dockworker.  It is a good outfit to wear if you are going to attend a concert by either the Gaslight Anthem or Bruce Springsteen.

titusnowl: (god save the queen)
I just had a dream in three acts, of which the final one is sticking with me best.

I was walking with two friends up a stairway from a Tube station to the street, and I said to one of them: "There's a song called Cemeteries of London that this reminds me of - with the tunnels underground, and some of them so old and unused that they used to block them off to make bomb shelters."

And a girl sitting on a bench by the side of the stairs heard me, and said, "We have one of those shelters near here, would you like to see it?"

And for some reason they had the shelter blocked off in this very strange way, with mirrors and lenses like a telescope.

You couldn't look directly at it.  You could only look into it backward, through a mirror.
titusnowl: (Shitashi)
My big sister was clearly the coolest person in the world.  There was not even any argument.  I may have doubted it once in a while when we were growing up - she was five years older than me, it was inevitable - but now?  Definitely sure she was the coolest person ever.

My little sister wasn't even as annoying as she could have been.  And she was only 12, so that was pretty damn annoying.  Yesterday she'd been bugging the piss out of me, but today I liked her a lot.

All of this familial appreciation was probably due to the fact that I realized I'd be leaving them soon.  I was supposed to go to America for school or something, or maybe just a vacation before I started school at home in Japan.  I was 17 or 18.  I had bright blue hair like I tried to have IRL that time that the dye came out green.  <:3c

Mom had taken me shopping to get some new clothes; we chatted with the shop girl for a moment while she wrapped our purchases up and put them in a bag, then we went home, Kenichi (my little brother, who was 5 or so) in tow.  My sisters were already waiting for me, because we were supposed to go out ourselves for the night.

I ran out to my big sister's car, which was parked around the block, and we were putting things in the trunk when I realized I'd forgotten to bring something - bath shoes?  Some kind of shoe.  I remember shouting across the car, "Onee-chan, what size shoe do you wear?", but hers were too small.  Little sis "helpfully" piped up with her shoe size, too, but of course hers were also too small, so I had to run back to the house.

There was a large group of people in the street in front of our house, and I saw my grandmother amongst them; she was coming over to visit my mother.  I paused long enough to say "Hi, Oba-san!" to her before running inside after my shoes.  Ken followed me into my room, silent - he was a very quiet little boy.  Big eyes. 

When I went back outside, I paused in the street.  The road was cobblestones, it was very late afternoon when the air turns gold, there were tiny golden yellow leaves blowing off the trees, and the house was near the top of a hill, so I could look down over the city.  I paused there and thought about how beautiful it was, soaking up the moment before I left.

And then I woke up, and for a while was filled with this sadness, almost grief, at having lost the family I loved so much in the dream by waking up.

Big sis was an inch or two taller than me, with a face-framing chin-length hairstyle with careful artificial highlights.  Little sis had long hair pulled back into two tails at the nape of her neck.  Ken was darker-skinned with huge dark eyes and the pretty lashes little boys have.  (He wasn't Marcus, though.  A little frail thing, he was.)  Mom was taller than me, about big sis' height, a quiet firm lady with her hair pulled back into a tight bun or chignon.  Grandmother was tiny with lots of white curly hair and a loosely-woven or knit shawl around her shoulders.  We didn't have a dad.  We were a very close family.
titusnowl: (whoem of a poem)
"What are your plans for the weekend?"

Justin, Peacock and I tramped side-by-side across the broad asphalt wastes of one of the DFW metroplex's many, many parking lots.  Justin shrugged.

"Well, my prof said he might call and have us all take a raft down the river to camp down near Austin, so that's one idea - but we're not sure yet."

"That'll be cool," said Peacock.  "I used to live on Liberty Island right near there.  Here we are!"

We stopped in front of an imposing, abandoned brick structure.  "This is the place the photo guy said to go for my assignment," said Justin.

"Oh yeah, I know this place - it's where they used to keep the bodies!"

Peacock said it as if it were utterly normal; I followed the boys in a few paces behind, pondering the idea before venturing a guess at an explanation: "Like the Mutter Museum?"

No.  Not like the Mutter Museum at all.

The building, though abandoned, was full of fluorescent light, a great ancient dusty warehouse space in which a recreation of a nineteenth-century girls' school was set up with plaster dummies.  The boys tramped ahead of me; I was creeped out already, because I've always been nervous about mannequins. 

"Hey, that one's missing its head!" said Justin excitededly, screwing a different lens onto his camera, and he and Peacock disappeared through the back door of the building into the courtyard.

A voice behind me said "Not only - "

- and as I turned to leave, music began to play, the room began to fill with voices, the dummies began to *move* - not saying or doing anything intrinsically horrible, but it was all *wrong*; the dummies all seemed to be missing heads or hands, and the voice and music - which I'd immediately filed as part of the "museum" this place seemed to be - was repeatedly mentioning our surname.

I ran, and as I reached the front door a mannequin reached out for me with intent.

A blur, then, of trying to find the others, Peacock grabbing me and trying to calm me down, being unable to find Justin; running away across the parking lot as fast as we could, but moving at a snail's pace; trying to take refuge with some women eating outside a McDonald's at the far end of the parking lot, and being told "this happens every year" and subsequently ignored.

Finally seeing Justin's Crown Victoria pull out from behind the "museum," but not seeing him at the wheel -

Waking up.
titusnowl: (wacky on the junk)
1.  While visiting my grandmother, I discover that during the 1970s, my fiddle-playing uncle wrote and vanity-published a Saint fanfic novel in which the main character is Simon's son and at the end it is revealed that Norman Kent was a mermaid.  It was illustrated by amateurish coloured pencil sketches.

2. I am the Saint, and a series of mishaps beginning with Roger missing a scheduled rendezvous leads to my discovery that (a) I can understand cats when they talk and (b) the cats have a massive conspiracy against me.
titusnowl: (new york city)
Strange dream last night - Justin and Peacock and Jen and someone I knew in the dream, a chap; running late to the airport; airport was in a shopping mall (Crossgates, even huger in dream than real life); interior of airport was actually a high school; walls covered in rust-orange carpetry, bored teenagers napping slouched atop their luggage lining the halls.  The airplane turned out to be an el - a 1930s Redbird subway car, on raised rails that spiraled through the city.  This scene a Winsor McCay-esque exaggerated version of the view from the I90/787 interchange over the river in Albany.  Gutted houses - explaining to Peacock that they were being rehabbed - outer walls torn off revealing fireplace mantels, doors, pictures hung on the walls.  Gilded radiators.  The houses carved entirely of marble.  Very proud of that. Repeated it to Peacock.  Had something to do with it having been the very rich part of town in the 1880s and also fireproofing.
titusnowl: (chirple)
I had a dream in which I'm not entirely sure whether I was actually a participant, or watching a television show, or reading a book.  At any rate, my POV was that of Simon, on the outskirts of some happenings, to wit: Owen and some dame had a kid, and the kid got stolen, and unbeknownst to them Simon/I was working to get the kid back for them. 

When the kid first got stolen the dame's first idea was to give Owen sympathy sex or something.

At the time at which I woke up, I was riding a train to a place where the kid was likely to have been hidden, and doing a crossword puzzle one of the answers to which was "OXFORD COMMA, MISS."
titusnowl: (whatte ye swyve)
I had a dream in which I was meeting my mother, sister, and Jen for dinner somewhere, and on my way there I passed this little courtyard which contained three ghostly green boys - a pair of twins who were about eight, and their older brother who was 12 or so.  They were from the 1880s and I think they were some weird kind of vampires.  I was afraid of them but Jen, like, adopted them. And insisted on bringing them to dinner. 

Only we couldn't get the waiters to wait on us because we had the glowing green ghosts, so I had to go into the kitchen to find food.  And all I had was half a loaf of bread that had been sat on, and a bag of cake.  The cake was sliced like bread and was like a month old but it was still good so I ate it for a lack of anything else to eat.

That's all I remember.  I was really really annoyed at Jen for adopting the fucking ghost-boys though because they scared me and had pointy teeth and bad manners.
titusnowl: (wacky on the junk)
It is my turn to have strange dreams!

The end of the world and a painted mirror )
titusnowl: (me and the ocean)
I had a dream.

There was a place you could get to but not out of.  I was trapped there for three years.  Then one day the Powers that ran the place and kept us (for there was a group of us; one of the others was a tall, distinguished silver-haired gentleman) from leaving changed their minds.  A huge party occurred at the place, and it was crowded with ravers and frat boys.  Not yet realizing the change that had taken place and despairing at the thought of being forced to live with this crowd of unsavory people, I hid under a tree and took a nap.  When I awoke, I was utterly alone.  But I thought I saw the silver-haired gentleman walking away down the road that led away from the place, and when I followed him we both managed to leave it.  I saw my sister and my mother at the end of the road and approached them eagerly, but they reacted with expressions of disgust which took them a moment to overcome.  They showed me a picture of myself they claimed I had sent them while I was away.  In it, I was skinny and attractive, riding (for some reason) a Ferris wheel.  They insisted it didn't bother them that I was fat (I was exactly the size and shape I am in real life, and don't usually think of myself as grossly fat, although I am overweight, but in the dream it was a A Thing), but it was a shock at first.  As we walked down the road it became a wide sunlit hallway in a shopping mall.  There was a
carousel in the center of a fountain, and a red-liveried mall employee of Indian descent was swimming in the fountain.  I needed to use the restroom, so I went into the back of a Disney Store, where (after wrestling bodily through racks of Star Wars t-shirts and mugs with Tinkerbell on them) I found a blue-tiled room with two stalls.  While I was there, a girl brought her boyfriend in; he stood by the sink while she was in the stall.  My own stall door fell open and would not relock.  The boy laughed at me.

Then I awoke.
titusnowl: (house bitches some more)
[18:31] Psmith-mun: i was at school
[18:32] Psmith-mun: but really
[18:32] Psmith-mun: it was my mom's house.
[18:32] Psmith-mun: but i was SUPPOSED to be going to homeroom.
[18:32] Psmith-mun: it was, i guess, high school
[18:32] Psmith-mun: and i was supposed to be figuring out where i wanted to go to college
[18:32] Psmith-mun: and mom was fussing
[18:32] Psmith-mun: and i was pointing out that i couldn't really pick
[18:32] Psmith-mun: until i knew where justin was going to be working
[18:32] Psmith-mun: 'cause we were going to be moving
[18:32] Psmith-mun: and i was looking up schools on the internet
[18:32] Psmith-mun: and this was making me late for homeroom
[18:32] Psmith-mun: and i decided fuck it
[18:32] Psmith-mun: who needs to go to homeroom anyway
[18:33] Psmith-mun: and first period was maths
[18:33] Psmith-mun: but i didn't want to go to maths either, i suck at maths
[18:33] Psmith-mun: and i figured college was more important
[18:33] Psmith-mun: so i was in - i don't even know WHAT it was in the dream
[18:33] Psmith-mun: some kind of dorm
[18:33] Psmith-mun: and i wasi n the bedroom on the computer, and they were watching House on tv in the living room which i could see from my door
[18:33] Psmith-mun: and i was like "wtf why is house on at seven in the morning."
[18:34] Psmith-mun: and they said "it's a special house"
[18:34] Psmith-mun: what was going on was the cop guy needed medicines.
[18:34] Psmith-mun: and he wouldn't let house do the medicines
[18:34] Psmith-mun: unless house did the medicines too.
[18:34] Psmith-mun: and by "the medicines" i mean some kind of really weird thing
[18:34] Psmith-mun: like how they take core samples for drilling
[18:34] Psmith-mun: and they pull out the core and they're like "ok it's sediment X deep and then you hit the oil"
[18:34] Psmith-mun: but they were taking core samples of their bodies
[18:34] Psmith-mun: with a giant hypodermic needle
[18:35] Psmith-mun: that htey had to shove down their throats
[18:35] Psmith-mun: and the cop guy didn't want to do it so he made house do it too.
[18:35] Psmith-mun: and it apparently didn't HURT it was just kind of icky
[18:35] Psmith-mun: and so they were doing core samples of their own throats
[18:35] Psmith-mun: and foreman came in
[18:36] Psmith-mun: and foreman was very upset about it
[18:36] Psmith-mun: because somehow having house do it to
[18:36] Psmith-mun: was a violation of ethics.
[18:36] Psmith-mun: and i ended up getting so absbored in watching this special house
[18:36] Psmith-mun: that i stopped looking up colleges.
[18:36] Psmith-mun: the college i was looking at was blue and gold
[18:36] Psmith-mun: that's all i remember of it
[18:36] Psmith-mun: it was blue and gold and somewhere in the midwest
[18:37] Psmith-mun: and i was not sure if i wanted to go there or to st louis but HEY A SPECIAL HOUSE.
[18:37] Psmith-mun: and then i was late for first period.
[18:37] Psmith-mun: and then i woke up.


Mar. 28th, 2007 07:00 am
titusnowl: (jooster <3)
Superman's secret identity was a sort of Bertie Wooster-esque figure.  He was in love with a blonde girl (a sort of Florence Cray) but she did not encourage him.  He longed for her to show her appreciation of him by giving him the gift of a bottle of maple syrup. 

At a fashionable party one of Supes' friends (a sort of Gussie Fink-Nottle) got some maple syrup spilled on his pants, and the girl cleaned him up, although this necessitated removing his pants.

After the party the friend had not got his trousers back, so Supes called the girl on his mobile and started walking across the bottom of the lake to go see her.  They argued about the fact that he hadn't got his pants back, she mentioned that she'd had to use his "right bottom suit-back" (I remember this phrasing; it referred to his coat-tail) to dry him off, he said something about whether it's OK for a girl to not get her knickers back if she's waylaid in a tryst and has to fly, and she said "of course it is, under the circumstances," and he was taken aback.

And then a champagne-bottle full of maple syrup appeared, followed by the girl carrying a pair of glasses: her secret identity was some sort of Wonder Woman type!  She was super too!

Superman, in his wide-eyed astonishment, started to open the bottle right then and there, but she laid a hand on his arm and admonished him to wait until they were out of the lake.

titusnowl: (whatte ye swyve)
There was this building which was actually like a giant convention center, but the upstairs was a labyrinthine antiques store; the lights were out and it was haunted, but I had to go up there to retrieve my fiddle.  I didn't want to go alone because I knew that it was haunted - I had had bad experiences with its ghosts - so I convinced this like teenage goth boy who was hanging around with some of his goth buddies to come up with me because he was the only person handy.

So we went up and found my fiddle and it was very very small and we brought it downstairs and I opened it up (the case had ribbons tying it shut instead of latches) and it was made of toast, and i said "Oh. It's made of toast."

I went outside to try to practice it a little while everyone waited for a bus and the bus didn't come so the people who were in charge of the convention center decided that Justin and I and my friend Carrie and the goth boy had to all marry each other - big old four-way wedding - and I was not sure I wanted to include the goth boy but they were adamant.  The trouble, you see, was that I knew he was going to grow up to be a white supremacist.  I turned on a TV and it showed footage of the goth boy all grown up to be a white supremacist, with a swastika tattooed on his Adam's apple.  But he said he wouldn't really mean it and he would grow out of it, and we had to include him in the mass marriage anyway.

Afterwards I played my fiddle some more and somebody said "This is just like that episode of Days of our Lives."

the end.

And the other day I dreamed that I went back in time to the 1890s and went shopping at the Macy's in Herald Square, where I purchased a metal Partridge Family lunchbox before going up to the Ladies' Lacey Unmentionables Department (it was called such on the sign), where I met Kiefer Sutherland, who made fun of me for having a Partridge Family lunchbox.
titusnowl: (nerf war)
I was on hold for forty-five minutes today.  I didn't get anywhere with the story, although I'm starting to get a feel for the plot (I've learned the redhead's name - Vivian - and I know that she's looking for her younger sister, whose name might be Claire if that name was in use at the time, and who is supposed to have eloped with some damn fool who thinks he's the next Clyde Barrow).  There's something about being on hold with that particular insurance company that makes me fall asleep.  Other companies don't make me feel so sleepy even when I'm on hold for an hour, but even just five minutes with that one gets me drifting in and out of consciousness, floating on fever-dreams that feel like waking life. I remember one image from the drifting: a piece of paper on my desk contained a print-out of some song lyrics; the song (which sounded like it was by the Cure) was playing on the radio as I read them; the main line of the song was "letters go like dragonflies in your beauty."  I moved the paper aside and beneath it was a red and blue embossed plastic PI license in the name of Rodney Peanut; the photograph was of a banana.

After that I jerked myself awake and kept myself that way by sketching a thing.

As my "Hee-Haw"/country costume, I wore dark jeans, a tooled leather belt bearing Justin's giant 1976 KEEP ON TRUCKIN buckle, Justin's beat-up old boots, a green plaid flannel shirt tucked in, and Justin's white straw Resistol with the extremely bent brim.  I look like Dwight Yoakam.
titusnowl: (Default)
The following sentence came to me while I was drifting off to sleep during a particularly long hold time (AIG has very soothing hold music).  It struck me as VITALLY IMPORTANT so I wrote it down:

"The snake is standing beside the velocipede so it cannot be detected.  If it weren't for the Cherokee's Spanish buffalo, we would never have hit it in Bombay."

This is obviously some form of prophecy.  Get to work figuring it out!
titusnowl: (aquaman)
I was invited on an urban exploration trip.  An acquaintance's family (let's call this guy Steve) owned a ski lodge that also had a small amusement park in it, and he was going to take me and another acquaintance (Joe) up to poke around in it.  I didn't really want to go, because it frightened me, but I didn't want to back out and look like a pussy, so I did.

As we drove up, we went through a town that had obviously been a major vacation resort at one time (probably the '60s), but hadn't been for at least a decade.  We passed by lodges, cabins, novelty restaurants, and other buildings that were all falling down and abandoned.  I saw an ice cream stand shaped like a thatched cottage; the roof was falling off in patches.  A restaurant with a fading painted sign that read "SMORGASBORD," consisting of a low main building flanked by two windmills; the windmills were both tilted to the left at alarming angles.  The dread this all inspired in me must have been apparent on my face, because Joe leaned forward from the backseat to ask if I was alright.  Just then I looked up the mountain on the right-hand side of the road and saw a bunch of poles for a ski-lift and a big bright-blue building at the top of the hill.  "That's it!" said Steve.  "The main buildings are up here on the left."

We pulled into a parking lot.  There was the framework for a large sign and a bunch of flower-pots on the verge, but the plants were dead and brown and the sign itself was gone.  The main building was constructed mostly of glass windows.  Inside we saw children playing.  "Crap," Steve said, "my family's here.  They must have decided to come out and clean the place up."

Just inside the doors there was a large open space with a concrete floor.  There was a circle demarcated in the center.  "There used to be a carousel here," explained Steve.  Indeed, there were still a couple of carousel animals lying loose in it, along with other old amusement toys.  The back wall had a couple of windows to what must have been a snack booth and a cashier for tickets, and a wide door to progress further into the complex.  Steve's aunt came forth. 

"Oh, hello!  I'm glad you're here.  We didn't think to bring the truck, and your uncle wants to go out back and take a look at the equipment."  We went through the door.  There was a small lobby for tiny children to play in, with a wooden structure that might have been a shoe-cubby or might have been for climbing on; a little kid was playing there, apparently Steve's cousin and oblivious to all the world.  The entry to the snack booth was missing its door, but was blocked off with a gigantic stack of chairs.  The booth itself was apparently untouched from the last time the place was in operation; a cabinet door was agape, and through it one could glimpse a huge stack of very old popcorn bags.

We met Steve's uncle, a large man in a plaid shirt and a massive mustache.  "Let's take your truck out back," he said.  "I think we've got an infestation, and I want to get rid of it before it eats the buildings out."

We started by going out the back door and marching through some tall grass, abuzz with horseflies.  One of them landed on me, and I jumped - and awoke.
titusnowl: (Harper's Jig)
Dammit.  I was looking at the tv listings on tvguide.com and saw Sharpe's Rifles listed, and got SO EXCITED.  Then I realized I'd scrolled down too far and I was in the Digital Cable section - it's playing on BBC America right now, which I do not get.  (I shouldn't get ANYTHING right now, but we had the money to pay for the cable LAST month, so it won't be turned off for another two weeks.  When I get a damn job, we'll pony up the extra $15 a month for digital, I think, just so I CAN watch BBC America and laugh at Sharpe at 12:30 in the morning.)

Also, I took a nap tonight, and had a dream that we'd been entrusted with the care of a baby boy for a year; the year was up and it was time to give him back, but we couldn't find him.  And as we talked, we realized that in fact we had not seen the baby since six months ago.  So we decided the best course of action would be to get a tiger, lock the tiger in the house, and run away, so that the baby's mother would assume that the tiger had eaten all of us, and we wouldn't get in trouble for losing a baby.


titusnowl: (Default)
titus n. owl

February 2015

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