Ooh, Fuck me. No, really.

dreams and softball injuries
2003-06-03 . 6:49 p.m.

Last night I dreamed strange dreams.

I remember I was at my dad's house, and we received this package of incredibly sharp knives, the kind that whatever they touched they would slice through without difficulty. The whole family started cleaning the house, and I took the knives, and began cutting everything out of the walls. The shelves, the sound system, the plumbing..everything. Then we went out in the backyard and I scrubbed the pool. Apparently, what we were doing was illegal or something, and so when a cop arrived, I hid all the knives under the loose shingles on the roof.

He knew better than to walk all the way across the roof without searching under the shingles for the knives. He reaches under one, and his hand was sliced in half upon touching the knives. When we realized he knew, I had to stab him with one of the knives. Then I looked at him, and realized that it was my grandfather.

It was all so weird, so morbidly disgusting. Where do these dreams come from? I also remember spending time with a certain *someone*, but nothing sexual.

* * * *

Last night I also had my first softball game of the season. We lost miserably, because we have a team made up of ditsy senior girls who have never worn a softball glove in their lives. I'm the youngest on the team, but I am well respected and liked for my playing ability, and also probably my wit. I caught an infield fly, threw an out at second and first (I play shortstop) and hit a double. I also scraped the hell out of my leg sliding into second...damn short shorts. They insist that looking cute is worth the injuries.

I've been sick for about a week now. Allergies in Dallas are up because we had some smog over the city recently.

Come on. Kill me.

before ++ after


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