I had a dream about Mxy last night. He was locked up in a little shoebox-sized wrought-iron barred cage, hidden in the experimental ward of an insane asylum. He was about the same size as a st.bernard's head and squished to fit in the cage. He was on his stomach and both hands and both feet were settled uncomfortably beside his head. Somehow he was able to move rather swiftly inside the little cage. He was bald and had a face like if you morphed Ghandi with Oscar the Grouch. His skin was brown and lethary like that of a baby pulled out of a super-hot fire (but untouched by flame, no black boils).
He creeped me out to no end but I went back to visit him a couple times because I found it so intriguing and facinating that he could post online and stuff from that cramped little prison. In the times I was away from the asylum, I was at a store (like K-mart or Walmart) with Sneaky and we were stealing canned aresol whipped cream.
Old men, fear me! You will shatter under my ruthless apathetic assault!
Uschi - 2 Old Men - 0
"I am convinced that this world is of no importance, and that the only people who care about dates are imbeciles and Spanish teachers." -- Jean Arp, 1921
"If Jesus came back and saw what people are doing in his name, he would never never stop throwing up." - Max von Sydow, "Hannah and Her Sisters"
