return of the feminine

Well, it’s finally happened – my wife and daughter returned from Nepal after a 3 month vacation. They’re epically failing to adjust to the local daylight schedule, having slept through most of their first 3 days back. It seems there’s rarely an hour of daylight in which all of us are awake. The trip has turned my whole family into extreme night owls!

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Lemur Dream

I had a dream this morning. I was a lemur, and there were a lot of lemurs in our kingdom. More lemurs than food. The king called us all into an underground tunnel for some ceremony, and as we all filed down I saw the piles of dead lemurs who didn’t get up to follow.

Once down there, I guess we had whatever ceremony and were coming back out. I was first. On the way out we saw a giant blue cushion in the passageway. It filled the hall all the way across and all the way down, and I knew that it contained the bodies of all the lemurs I’d seen up above. It was the king’s way of handling the problem of disposing of the dead bodies. We were not impressed. The thing looked like it was made of Cookie Monster fur.

Anyway, we walked over it and around the corner to leave, but all we saw at the end was a cement wall. THE KING HAD SEALED THE PASSAGE AND TRAPPED US ALL! I realized that this was also the way he was going to deal with our whole group. I became depressed, but then I noticed that the cement was still fresh, and part of it was flaking off, so I dug into it with my fingers and was able to get through to someone digging in from outside! I cleared an opening and saw a guy looking in at me. He told me that the king was planning some kind of selective breeding program, and he had to get rid of a lot of male competition.

I went back to the ceremony chamber, when someone yelled and the king ran past! He had a secret way into our chamber! We chased him, but then I realized that his bodyguard was following him, so I tackled his bodyguard. As I was struggling to remember what to do in a fight, that’s when I woke up.

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Posterity

The best way for critics to earn enduring fame is to lavish their worst criticism on the best art of the day. Later generations will remember them as examples of sheer boneheadedness.

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