dream:
donald trump was on the price is right. he kept smiling smugly and insulting the audience. he got something wrong early on in the show, but no one corrected him. the audience was afraid to jeer him. then he played one of the games as a contestant. he had to guess the price of some car and choose a price range. he waxed on and on about how good he was at it and then said he was never wrong. as soon as they revealed the actual price there was a small gasp, as he was way off, by two price ranges. then complete silence. no sad trombone, nothing. he had his eyes closed, waiting for the applause that never came. for roughly an entire minute he sat there waiting, the audience holding their breath. finally drew carey told him he was wrong. he began complaining and asked to see the other prices on the gameboard. a piece of it fell down, and it didn't show a 'winner' spot, so he said it was 'rigged' as he rolled his eyes and adjusted his tie. i jumped up and yelled "you can't stand to lose!" and he said something about never having to and winning and something else i can't remember.
later i had completely forgotten about the giant black and blue wasp in the cage. i had procured it and a huge green beetle, both very rare, and put them in our parakeet cage. i got up in the middle of the night and crouched down in the corner, only to see it squeezing through the bars and flying right at me, to kill me. in a panic, i smacked it to the right and put a cup over it. crisis averted.
the end?
a random collection of whatever from beyond the cosmic horizon; the psychic adventures of a rambling, gambling, heavy metal beatnik.
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