Indiana Joanna (khakipants) wrote,
Indiana Joanna

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How much do pirates pay for corn?

My dad is in the next room, singing "The Ballad of Doovid Crewcut", which is- as far as I can tell- essentially the same as the ballad of Davey Crockett, but is limited to the phrases "Doovid, Doovid Crewcut", "The Buckskin Buccaneer", and "Killed him a bar when he was only three."

My family is strange.

There is a new installment of the recent series of dreams in which I am in a gigantic, confusing maze of a place with everyone I know. You will perhaps recall my disturbing space station dream and my confusing college campus dream. Last night's took place in a huge maze-like shopping mall. Naturally, everyone I know was there. But I was hanging out with people I barely know, while the people I know the best were only there in the background. The person with whom I spent the most time was not a real person at all, but a sort of conglomeration of all the cute blonde guys I've ever known. And he was wearing a pillowy winter coat. It was green. We walked around the mall and ran into lots and lots of folks.

Thrilling, no?

No. Probably not. Eh. Oh well. It's time for the plan I mentioned in the previous entry to go into effect.

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