Eerie
No sooner had a written the title of this post did I hear a door creak open down the hallway. Dammit. I had two children in their beds, supposedly sleeping, but obviously one was just lying quietly for long enough for me to get comfy in a reclining position with the crack pipe ready to roll.
So now he is watching Madagascar, and I'm back, with my own special kind of crack. That is, you my dear readers.
Unfortunately for you, today I'm a total waste of time. All those good ideas for writing things I usually have in the night were replaced with sleep, and sweet sexy dreams of Damian Christie.
They don't really make for good reading (except for Damian, and since I didn't really have them he'd have to put up with stories of real dreams of twisted corridors and bitten nails...).
7 comments:
Can you lot stop this? Please? Now?
Stephen, on my honour I would never write about a dream I had.
Touché.
The thought of DC in the same context as sexy dreams was causing involuntary internal bleeding, is all.
:D
Ha ha ha ha nice one. I think if I was given the choice of marrying either DC or DPF, I'd fucken kill myself. Problem solved.
(can I swear on this blog? Hmmm...)
I actively encourage swearing on this blog.
That's such a shame, I'd hoped my sweet sexy dreams of Stephen might be mutual...
You really should try dreaming about me Stephen, I'm really quite an amazing dreamlover. It's reality where it all comes apart at the seams.
Stephan doth protest too much, you know what THAT means.
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