are you sitting comfortably? ...then I'll begin
Tuesday evening was spent with the Delightful Mr Daniel J (and yes bois, he IS extremely hot; the response since i put his pic on my blog has been quite overwheliming! *smugmunkey*) indulging in various cinematic delights such as The Dark Crystal and Sleepy Hollow (mmm Johhny Depp with 18th Century tight pants and SUCH cute hair!). The following day involved many episodes of Futurama and a viewing of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (hence my inspiration for 'munkey's-eye view') ...as well as pie, pizza, chocolate and litres of lemon-lime-&-bitters. What more could one ask for? *ahem*
And then, of course, Friday was THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF MS SNAZZLES! Hurrah! Happy 1/4 of a century, my dearest.
The evening was kicked off with a quick visit to the home of the birthday-girl... where munkey lavished his spirit-sister with "The Art Of The Return Of The King" (Big Surprise, since I gave her the same book of the previous two Lord Of The Rings films the last two years running *predictable munkey*. But you gotta honour such traditions!) as well as a double CD of that brassy behemoth of the blues, Bessie Smith. Hope you like 'em Snazzles m'dear. : )
Then it was off to Hanover Court, to join with the Royal Couple, Ms Lili and Mistress Corrie, before heading to Mao's for a fine meal and wine with Madame Mu, Mother Gomati and Mr Mikey. And for the love of all things sacred: Why has no-one ever told me how damn good Deep Fried Icecream is before! My life has changed forever!
On to Bimbo Deluxe and a meeting with too many people to name, including the housemates of Snazzles, the ex-schoolmates of Snazzles and the fellow-screenwriting-étudiants of Snazzles. Mr Chris Mac also dropped in for a drink, a "tab" (not LSD, but Scot-speak for a cigarette, so I have learned) and a chin-wag.
As predicted, Bimbo's turned evil... we were thrown out of our lovley courtyard plonking-place, and forced into the depths of the establishment, where the offensive music plays, and the offensive people wear offensive clothes and dance the night away *snob munkey*. (and yes, there is a special place in the DEPTHS OF HELL reserved for thee, Mister Bimbo's Bouncer! You know who you are.) So... it was on to a much classier joint in the guise of Polly. Hurrah for Polly with its uber-posh decor and tantalising cocktails!
Of course, as the night/early morning wore on, even Polly began to play dodgy musak, and so it was clearly time to drag our tired bones home *designated-driver munkey*. I hope you had a wonderful birthday, my pet, and here's to many more together over the centuries to come! Schlaagen !
~dream diary~
A few interesting clouds of dream-smoke have remained with me this morning, mostly to do with a return to my highschool at the Castle-On-The-Hill. There was a big assembly, for which me and my classmates (comprising boys and girls ranging from very small children) were on stage, supposedly to sing "Land Of Hope And Glory", but none of us knew the words. My late, great principal Mr Willis (r.i.p. Ray) was there, looking extremely jovial, and i was very pleased to see him looking so well *sigh*. However, he was no longer principal; that role was now filled by Madonna. (who else? ...and strange that for a woman who I scarecely EVER think about, she has popped up in my dreams twice in the last month. curious, no?) Only thing I remember about her was that she told off a girl for spitting her chewy out on the floor ("How DARE you?! This is the Memorial Hall!!" she cried) and that I wasn't sure whether to call her Ms Madonna, or just Madonna.
I also remember one "class", which also took place on the stage of Mem Hall. Not sure what subject it was, but it was taught by a VERY creepy Eastern European man, who presented each student with a kitten, then announced that we were going to be killing the kittens as part of the lesson. All the kids were horrified, but no-one seemed willing to take a stand against this. I remember being particularly dissapointed in one Mr Tom Rogers, who was always quite a rebel (what that face from the dim distant past was doing returning to my subconscious I really don't know). So finally, just as Mr Teacher was describing how we were to mash the kitties' heads with the heel of our boot, I dropped my feline gently out the nearest window and announced this was a disgrace and I would not be taking part. All the other kids were following suit as I marched from the Hall... wondering which subject I would pick-up to replace this animal-killing one, so that I could still pass high-school. Psychology perhaps?
I think it's time for another appointment with Dr Snazzlepops!
~~~~~~~
And then, of course, Friday was THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF MS SNAZZLES! Hurrah! Happy 1/4 of a century, my dearest.
The evening was kicked off with a quick visit to the home of the birthday-girl... where munkey lavished his spirit-sister with "The Art Of The Return Of The King" (Big Surprise, since I gave her the same book of the previous two Lord Of The Rings films the last two years running *predictable munkey*. But you gotta honour such traditions!) as well as a double CD of that brassy behemoth of the blues, Bessie Smith. Hope you like 'em Snazzles m'dear. : )
Then it was off to Hanover Court, to join with the Royal Couple, Ms Lili and Mistress Corrie, before heading to Mao's for a fine meal and wine with Madame Mu, Mother Gomati and Mr Mikey. And for the love of all things sacred: Why has no-one ever told me how damn good Deep Fried Icecream is before! My life has changed forever!
On to Bimbo Deluxe and a meeting with too many people to name, including the housemates of Snazzles, the ex-schoolmates of Snazzles and the fellow-screenwriting-étudiants of Snazzles. Mr Chris Mac also dropped in for a drink, a "tab" (not LSD, but Scot-speak for a cigarette, so I have learned) and a chin-wag.
As predicted, Bimbo's turned evil... we were thrown out of our lovley courtyard plonking-place, and forced into the depths of the establishment, where the offensive music plays, and the offensive people wear offensive clothes and dance the night away *snob munkey*. (and yes, there is a special place in the DEPTHS OF HELL reserved for thee, Mister Bimbo's Bouncer! You know who you are.) So... it was on to a much classier joint in the guise of Polly. Hurrah for Polly with its uber-posh decor and tantalising cocktails!
Of course, as the night/early morning wore on, even Polly began to play dodgy musak, and so it was clearly time to drag our tired bones home *designated-driver munkey*. I hope you had a wonderful birthday, my pet, and here's to many more together over the centuries to come! Schlaagen !
~dream diary~
A few interesting clouds of dream-smoke have remained with me this morning, mostly to do with a return to my highschool at the Castle-On-The-Hill. There was a big assembly, for which me and my classmates (comprising boys and girls ranging from very small children) were on stage, supposedly to sing "Land Of Hope And Glory", but none of us knew the words. My late, great principal Mr Willis (r.i.p. Ray) was there, looking extremely jovial, and i was very pleased to see him looking so well *sigh*. However, he was no longer principal; that role was now filled by Madonna. (who else? ...and strange that for a woman who I scarecely EVER think about, she has popped up in my dreams twice in the last month. curious, no?) Only thing I remember about her was that she told off a girl for spitting her chewy out on the floor ("How DARE you?! This is the Memorial Hall!!" she cried) and that I wasn't sure whether to call her Ms Madonna, or just Madonna.
I also remember one "class", which also took place on the stage of Mem Hall. Not sure what subject it was, but it was taught by a VERY creepy Eastern European man, who presented each student with a kitten, then announced that we were going to be killing the kittens as part of the lesson. All the kids were horrified, but no-one seemed willing to take a stand against this. I remember being particularly dissapointed in one Mr Tom Rogers, who was always quite a rebel (what that face from the dim distant past was doing returning to my subconscious I really don't know). So finally, just as Mr Teacher was describing how we were to mash the kitties' heads with the heel of our boot, I dropped my feline gently out the nearest window and announced this was a disgrace and I would not be taking part. All the other kids were following suit as I marched from the Hall... wondering which subject I would pick-up to replace this animal-killing one, so that I could still pass high-school. Psychology perhaps?
I think it's time for another appointment with Dr Snazzlepops!
~~~~~~~
Labels: dream diary, munkey's life
posted by mindlessmunkey at 1:39 pm
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