Furry Rememberings

Last night I dreamt of browsing in an open-air market full of redheads, then sprinting off and performing an amazing parkour run at top speed. Actually, this isn't true. I dreamt this about a month ago, but it sounds a lot better to begin something with "last night" than "about a month ago."

I recently removed a great deal of mold from my apartment. It was growing out of control, secretly festering behind furniture all along my rear wall. My initial discovery of it was slightly terrifying, a glimpse of green...a closer look...and the nightmarish discovery. The removal of it was no better, like peeling diseased skin from the flanks of a rotting beast.

This shit was growing inches from my head, could it have affected my dreams? And, if so, was it for better or worse? I must say, of late my dreams have not been nearly as pleasant. I would much rather be dreaming of open-air markets full of redheads.

Redheaded women have always held a particular fascination with me. I've no doubt this began in elementary school, when I tried to win the affections of one Katie Locke. Naturally, she wanted nothing to do with me--I was all about climbing trees and drawing dinosaurs, (I do remember offending her once, when complimenting her on her red hair, she blew up, shouting, "It's not red! It's strawberry blond!") But the seed was planted.

Years later, Gillian Anderson as Dana Scully and Milla Jonovich as Leelo would go some way to magnify my fiery thirst.

I think part of the appeal lies in the rarity of these women, it's as if they're from another era, or an island destroyed long ago, like some kind of redheaded Atlantis...then again, brunettes, blonde's and Asians are pretty hot too. Hell, I'm practically living on an Asian Atlantis right now...what the fuck am I doing blogging!?