Dream land is were I am suppose to be right now. Women prancing across an open field, nude, flowing hair; searching for the lions den. Instead I woke to the sweet sounds of a growling stomach. I looked at the clock and to my surprise it read 5:30. I rolled over and tried to slip back into REM to continue that dream, that one dream that makes the world seem right, nah. I'm too fucking hungry.
Telwink, Franks grill, mamas hash browns, bacon, sausage, ham, Texas toast, coffee and orange juice.
I took all the breakfast meats diced them up and stuffed them into a perfectly rolled three egg omelet. Today my friends is the day we feast like kings! I shredded the potatoes, cooked the breakfast meats, poured the eggs out of the box. (egg beaters, tried to make this breakfast healthy!) Placed a slice a cheese ever so gently on the meat filled masterpiece! I ate only half, damn I should have just slept. So I did what any other adult over the age of fifty would do at that time of the morning after breakfast and coffee.
Watched the news, got depressed and changed the chanel to animal planet. Leave it to the Real Beavers was the title. As I sat there thinking of my next move on the business, Beavers became an all to familar joke and the young boy came out. I heard when the beaver gets angry, the hairy beaver, the beavers hair serves a disticnt purpose, and the one that left me in tears, a mature beaver can wreak havoc on the innocent farmer! I couldnt help myself i rolled laughing, so hard that the coffe and greasy food crept upon me like vietcong in the jungle, swift, dangerous and without warning!!! It was though the oil had lubed up the large instestine causing the coffee to act like a flowing river pushing debris to the mouth of the ocean.
Tomorrow morning, bowl of ceral minus the coffee! I wasnt thinking much this morning but I learned my lesson.
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