I woke up at around 12:30am and was surprisingly hungry as hell. My dinner was not huge but by no means did I pick. So I figured if I were to go to bed I would need to grab something fast because I would be up for the rest of the night with that all too familiar feeling in my tummy. Of course, Caesar heard me walking around and immediately tried to convince me that it was "morning" and time for him to eat as well. So much for sucker-free Caesar! It's amazing how dummies think they can outsmart others so easily. But I can't help chuckling when Caesar does this pseudo-jedi mind trick thingy, especially the looks he gives you. Caesar might not be the smartest pooch in the world, but he is my Caesar-dawg!
So, of course, I had company when I went to the Frigidair. Yes, I know I am a cretan (sp?) but I do stand there with the door open while I try to seek something out. It used to annoy Melissa but I cannot help it. I know I should know what I want to get and then open the door and get it but I can never make up my mind without gazing at the choices I guess. Caesar likes to help me look and would be more than happy to help himself if he had thumbs, but not in this life buddy-boy.
Anyway, out of the choices I had I settled on some left-over chinese. I saw about a third of a pint of shrimp and brocoli, half of a pint of beef chow fun and about three-quarters of a pint of vegetable fried rice. With my hand on my tummy as if I were trying to muffle the gripes being directed at me, I thought to myself, "two tiers and a bucket...!" I'll heat up the hole mess.
Now I know what you are thinking. That's one hell of a midnight snack, right? And you're right, but I was thinking economically. Not only would I be able to get rid of my hunger but I would be able to clear out the frigidair a bit as well. Ha, I'm actually getting chores done too! LOL But at the time my hunger was the clear and present danger that needed immediate attention.
So I heated up my masterpiece, headed to the couch and propt myself between the coffee table and couch indian style, and flipped the remote letting my plate cool a bit. As Caesar sat there three feet from me at attention staring at my plate I could only imagine what could be going through his doggy mind. I'm sure he was probably thinking what the hell is this shcmuck doing not eating that delicious food. But you see dogs have no sense of food temperature as I have learned.
One summer I was barbequing and, of course, had Caesar by my side all the way as burgers, hotdogs, and other assorted goodies made their way to the grill. As Caesar sat there and gave me little audible growls that sounded like, "Hey man, how about a frank, dude? Half a frank?? I'll take dumps strictly in the mulch pile from now on..." I could not help but feel for him. One thing I try not to do is feed him from the table or from the grill because this could cause him to develop annoying habits. It's not like we are talking about a yorkshire terrier or anything. Caesar is a rotty and anything annoying he does is only compounded upon by his sheer size. But I thought, what the hell, let him have a frank. So I grabbed a frank with the tongs and before I could place it to the side to cool it dropped on the patio. Of course, starter pistols fired in Caesars head and he quickly pounced on the frank. But the frank was, indeed, pretty hot! So I got to watch Caesar repeated pick up of the frank and then spit it back down on the patio followed by what I can only describe as a Daffy Duck-like spitting/raspberry sound. I laughed my ass off as Caesar kept at it pausing intermittently to give me the "scratching one's head" look.
So seeing Caesar watching my plate of Chinese made me laugh a bit in reflection. I ended up watching a movie called the "The Last Minute" as I ate. From what I could gather, the movie was about this cockney dude who makes it big somehow and enjoys quick fame only to see it start to crumble around him. He manages to loose a total shag of a girlfriend as well as run into all sorts of trendy-ass characters in night clubs, photo shoots and interviews. He was obsessed with cranium size, too. Weird little cunt as the prats would say!
One scene that was particularly striking was where he and his girl go to this ultra-ultra-exclusive club made from a converted meat processing plant. Basically, the decor was kept the same with the usual onslaught of DJs, half-naked dancers, body piercing and tattoo booths and macabre groups of people including these two bull-puffs who stayed inside of a freezer and shoved it into each others show the whole time until the party broke out. The highlight, however, was when one of the chemically tweaked owners head-butted a bloke and then proceeded to burst into a live show tune medley. Gotta love the Brits and their story telling style. The punters sure make interesting cinema!
After I was done eating and felt better I decided to lay down on the couch and finish watching said movie. Of course, I fell asleep before seeing the whole thing which will make me watch the movie again. I look forward to this actually because I think the movie was pretty weird in a good way. Thought provoking if you will. Well, it must have provoked my dreams as well because I had one hell of a strange ass dream-bender!
I was driving to my friend's gated community where he rents a town house. I show up at his house and see all of the other people who live there a out in their yards and in the street playing, runing around, walking their dogs, etc. completely naked. The grounds looked like something out of the Teletubbies. So I get out of my truck and look around and two shags run over to me and ask me [enthusiastically] if I am moving in. I look them up and down and before I can answer them they start helping me take off my clothes. One of them pinches me on my ass and then they run off. Now I am naked beside my truck with a picnic basket in one hand and a beach ball under my other arm. I walk up to my friend's door and walk in. Now his house is not layed out like his house anymore, it looks like his office building, but not quite. I make my way further inside and put the basket on a dining room table and drop the beach ball. I hear laughter and thumping around so I make my way further inside. Next thing I see are two more naked shags soaking wet running from my friend (also naked) who is spraying them with an old-school style seltzer bottle. They make a few loops in front of me and finally my friend runs over to me and says, "hey, did you bring the ball?!" I say "yes" and he tells me to come on. So him and I chase the girls around the house until I find myself with one of the chicks in the kitchen. She's now holding a tulip and sitting on the counter. She asks me to cool off with her for a minute and pats a spot on counter next to her...
And then I woke up this morning to the sound of the neighbor's snowblower as Sean was doing the rounds clearing my driveway of snow. Now the funny thing was the fact that the dream, other than the naked people, really wasn't sexual at all. I didn't wake up with a hard-on or anything. Weird f&@#ing dream, indeed.
My neighbor Sean is real industrious. He must have made nearly $400 bucks last blizzard doing peoples driveways with his grandfather's snowblower. That's a lot of change for a 14 year old kid! He was at my house this morning at 8am sharp. He's a good kid. I'm glad he woke me up when he did because I do not like to over sleep during the week, especially on Fridays when I do running around.
So even though there is no scientific evidence, I guess I should stick to tamer foods like PB&J for a late night snack en lieu of Chinese...