So, apparently in comeuppance for winning my first-ever game of Monopoly-like (Ghettopoly, at
xany's place) and enjoying an exceedingly moderate amount of weird beer (one bottle of Bierzebub, a lovely 13% ABV brew), my subconscious decided that I'm the asshole I play on TV, and I spent a fitful night lucidly dreaming about losing my pants in a sporting arena, trying to give
lil_m_moses a shave and a haircut with a quartet of butcher's knives (successfully, though she was very finicky about the hairstyle), discussing professional american soccer with my dad and a complete stranger, rambling around someplace that looked a lot like the Buffalo Zoo (as it was in my childhood) and ... stomping five young Native American girls to death.
o.O
What.
The.
Fuck.
Is.
This.
Shit?
What kind of asshole stomps people to death? What kind of sick fuck has their subconscious throw shit like that them?
Serves me right for getting the healthiest thing on the menu (thai chicken lettuce wrap).
In happier news, I share with you all the piece d' resistance from the Ghettopoly session, linguistically speaking: "Wizzench."
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o.O
What.
The.
Fuck.
Is.
This.
Shit?
What kind of asshole stomps people to death? What kind of sick fuck has their subconscious throw shit like that them?
Serves me right for getting the healthiest thing on the menu (thai chicken lettuce wrap).
In happier news, I share with you all the piece d' resistance from the Ghettopoly session, linguistically speaking: "Wizzench."