I have been away from WiFi for over a month…long story, my dad died and I was tied up dealing with a very difficult situation which I will write more about later….maybe.
I received a comment to the previous post by supposedly a young, very young, woman that she thinks Ryan is hot as a vampire and that “he’s got her vote.” Because I was not able to approve it or reply to it in a timely manner due to the above, I will simply state that I sure hope her raging hormones means she is a minor and too young to vote.
You do not vote for a political ticket because you think the candidates are HOT. To what I hope would be most of us, this is obvious. Unfortunately, I fear this attitude is more prevalent than it should be. Need I state that this is not a beauty pageant. Too many people, I am afraid, are going to be voting against their best interests because they think this liar is handsome.
Oh, and as far as a vampire? He has the widow’s peak, but he doesn’t even rate. He’s what we would call a “who bit that one?” type. To Stan and I, Paul Ryan looks more like a Chicago gangster from the 1930s. (Welcome Dustbowl 2012) We nickname him “Mugsy.” I actually felt a bit guilty vamping him up here because it’s an insult to vampire-type guys. But I thought the suck metaphor was appropriate.
I had the looniest dreams the past few nights. I guess that means I’m sleeping for a change, eh? Here’s the one from last night: Stan and I were traveling, possibly in Denver. I think we were outside eating, maybe with some other people. There was a guy there who seemed gay, who I think knew the people we were with. They invited us over to his place. It was an apartment, but it was rather large and seemed like a multi-level or split level house. It was extremely neat and organized to the point that it didn’t feel like a home. I was talking to him and he seemed to get very flustered talking to me, and it appeared he seemed attracted to me. I did not find him attractive at all. I can’t remember too well what he looked like…30s, white, curly blond hair, odd glasses, geeky…it wasn’t so much what he looked like but how he acted, which was a sort of no-eye-contact monotone talking. Then I realized that what I took for Gay tidyness was actually an Asperger’s obsessive compulsive symptoms, which explained why he was attracted to me (he was hetero, not gay). It disturbed me a bit and I wanted to leave. I think Stan left because he had to go be with his dad who was in the hospital (his adpoptive dad has been dead for 13 years) and having another hip operation. We were going to get together later, but for now I had to find a way home with some other people who were there, one of whom was someone I used to know in High School. IRL I was taller than her, but in the dream she was taller than me. I couldn’t figure out how that happened. I was following her outside at night, but she kept trying to lose me, even though earlier in the dream she had been very friendly to me. It seemed like we were around the AG Clark building @CSU. I also remember something about Clint Eastwood and Anthony Bourdain. Wish I could’ve remembered more of that part than Mr. Anonymous Asperger Mumble Mouth.
This dream I had a couple nights before: There was a guy (biracial, medium-length tight dreadlocks, 20s) who was in the same room as Stan and me. Stan was busy and this guy was trying to seduce me. It was extremely cheesy because he was wearing fake vampire fangs. Like the kind you get at the costume store for Halloween. I even said something like “Oh please!” And I implied I was too old for both him and his silly Teenage Vampire wannabe stylings. He said that “Stan works all the time” and that I needed someone else. Then he pinched my breast. I was trying to ignore him, but then later came back and grabbed him in a sexual way. Here’s the funny part: right as I was about to get naughty with him, I was awakened IRL by Stan’s cellphone ringing. It was his job asking him to work. The irony. “Stan works all the time.” Because we really, seriously honestly had a lot of stuff to take care of that day, Stan had to decline the extra grueling hours on his day off. I’m glad that the cellphone interrupted that dream…it was silly. Stan doesn’t *always* work, take that, Mr. Silly Vamp.