A lump of cheddar, some poofy Malaysian-Chinese coconut cookies, and pistachio ice cream, is not the dinner of champions. I realize that now, but last night it seemed like a good idea.
I woke up from a dream featuring two boxes of long thin cigars by Pete Johnson, the fatty thighs of the mayor of Alexandria in Egypt, and Elvis Presley music.
Having been dead for nearly four decades, the King's voice has not improved. It's a bit raspy, and wavering, and it sounds like he has a cough. A bad cough. He's a bit worse for wear, even though Brendan Fraser exclaimed "he's still... still... juicy!"
The driver of our limo in my dream was an orthodox Sunni khatib, which is probably why he was excrutiatingly clean-spoken after crashing the vehicle. No, I do not know why his wife Abeda was with us (she appeared out of nowhere immediately after we hit the brick wall), but I'm sure there's a logical dream-state explanation. Maybe to keep her husband from noticing any other women in baggy black abayas.
Why a khatib? I don't know. Perhaps he was in between mosques.
He was a very eloquent gentleman, Yemeni I believe.
Today is going to be an interesting day in the world of cigar-crazed weasels across the bridge, I can feel it.
Just like last night was all about hairy barbarians.
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2 comments:
Dear Uncle atboth,
Do you have a favorite pipe reamer? Is there one you reach for more than any other?
And if you had a tin of Jack knife plug that was dated from it's release, and your birthday was near, would you crack it now or wait?
Pipe reamers: two Senior Pipe Reamers, one Savinelli Reamer, one multi-blade, and a modified butter knife.
Regarding the Jack Knife Plug, I'd wait.
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