The Drivel Thread

I had the most fantastic dream I’ve ever had. I’ll start with the last thing that happened. I was picking ice off an animal, and a woman said “You want to be an animal activist? That’s a big job.”, and I answered that I was just doing something with my hands. Before that, a Morrissey impersonator sang a Morrissey or Smiths song, I think it was This Charming Man, and I knew he wasn’t Morrissey, but I touched him. I don’t know why. Before that, there was two women, dressed to the nines, and gorgeous, walking by me flirtatiously. Before that, I had wrestled Russel Brand’s car and bodyguards to sit with him. I told him that I don’t like fire decorations, and that I didn’t want him to drink, and would he please connect me to Morrissey. Two young men smiled heartily, hearing that. Russell had been yapping at me before that, which reminded me to ask him to get me with Morrissey. Before that, Jack the Ripper played outside my apartment in a house on E 11th street in Mount Pleasant, and I ran out to get in the car with Morrissey, but it was Brand in the car. Before that, I was given a little purse or wallet that had a yearly bus pass in it, to replace my stolen bus pass, and I forget what else. Before that, I growled at a martial arts master who was trying to frighten me with two men with him. He backed off. Before that, I was throwing people out of my apartment because they’d been stealing me blind. I’d also been throwing out their expensive things, including stereo equipment and even Smiths and Morrissey CD’s. I said “They’re just things. They’re not Morrissey!”. Before that, I was hanging out with some pauper guy who seemed kind of cool. He ended up taking my shoes, and so I had to wear his. They had velcro straps. That’s all I remember. So, I woke up about to be with Morrissey, and I was touching the make believe Morrissey (impersonator), knowing it wasn’t him, but kind of pretending it was, and not being violent, though I still had potential violence in my blood. I touched him very gently. No, I woke up picking ice off an animal. I was still waiting for Morrissey to show up.
 
The dream I had a long time ago now, about Morrissey chasing me down and then holding me down, and breaking a tube, which he made me inhale from and get high, that was a fantastic dream too, but this one I just had, of hearing Jack the Ripper playing in a car outside my apartment, that was such a big tease…and then, finding myself with blabbermouth Brand, instead of Morrissey, in the car, it didn’t take me long to ask him for Morrissey. It was a liberating and affirming dream. Make the dream real Morrissey, come to me. I don’t think I’ll miss you this time. I think I will surely reach out for you, and we will finally have a nice chunk of quality time together. How big a ‘chunk’ I wonder.
 
Feeling inspired by the dream I had this morning. Don’t mind the light orange clump of nose hairs etc.
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I’m not that ugly, @nicky wire's legs , and I smell of dried sweat, not celery soup. Okay some photos I wouldn’t show, but I don’t always look so ugly. I think I look alright in this one, despite the definitely not Vogue magazine look. I think I look kind of hot in this one, having been inspired by the dream I had this morning.
 
Yeah the medicated stare and crooked glasses are so appealing!

Your coloring looks nice though. For once.

But you should know that nobody thinks 60 year olds are hot. Whether anyone at any point in your life ever thought you were is questionable, but they certainly wont ever again. You need to aspire to other things.
 
nicky wire's legs said:
Yeah the medicated stare and crooked glasses are so appealing!

Your coloring looks nice though. For once.

But you should know that nobody thinks 60 year olds are hot. Whether anyone at any point in your life ever thought you were is questionable, but they certainly wont ever again. You need to aspire to other things.
Click to expand...
I shall see...
 
nicky wire's legs said:
We'll all be waiting with baited breath :lbf:

Just kidding, I can easily tell you how it's all gonna turn out!
Click to expand...
You’ll all just think that I’ve gotten sane, when I quit bellyaching about not knowing when I’ll finally have some personal quality time with Morrissey. I won’t correct you. At least I don’t think I will.
 
I went for a pleasant walk, and gave away many Morrissey sticky notes. One guy looked like a cross between a young Brad Pitt, and a young Nick Cave, and gave me David Icke eyes as he said he would listen to it when he got home. I told him I was breathless because I was excited to share it. I wonder if we’ll ever cross paths again and if we do, I’d bet that he’ll really like Morrissey and thank me for being the kook that I am.
 
My brown eyed son, who I had put to sleep at nearly 14, back in, I think, 2009. I met his mother. She was a gorgeous and calm Rottweiler. His father supposedly was a King Sheppard who snuck into the Rottweiler's yard and got her pregnant with 11 puppies, advertised in the newspaper, in the winter of 1995, as free to a good home. I wasn't a perfect mother to him. I was addicted to men, and the internet. Mainly the then Solo chatroom, and now regret not having put his happiness first. He was wonderful. Really, really wonderful.
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