The dry Nordic winds stampeded through NYC. Defeating the fire breathing dragon that was hovering over Manahattan for most of this week belching foul air. Sire spanky dost lay his chestnut frocked head on kind pillows.

Had a pleasant dream of running a bucolic roadside market. We specialised in jellies for mutts. Most popular was a dark cloudy maroon shaded one. Slithered one right out of the can to demonstrate it's delectability. A pack of sharpeis came out behind the curtain, telling one liners, smoking stogies, and gobbling up the jiggling goodies in platinum doggie dishes.

Woke up not worried about the the insanity gaining ground. Usurping more territory across my grey matter. The miniscule fellers commandeering the spanky nerve control center can take a break. Go have a smoke and some liquor on ice.

The question; "how many punches do you think that guy's face could take?" was replaying far too many times lately. Damn voices. Don't they have some moronic television evangelists to haunt?

"Release the bowling balls!"

Wouldn't it be cool to sit in a high tech, yet comfortable, megalomaniac throne? Barking commands to your underlings and minions. All of them decked out in whatever crazy uniform pleases you. Raging into the microphone that transmits into all their earwigs. "Release the bowling balls!" Mad cackling.

Unsuspecting villagers below racing against a tidal wave of multicolored opaque glittery bowling balls coursing down the valley. All recorded on digital video for your repeated viewing pleasure. Get blunted and watch it on a giant screen while eating raspberry and cream cheese coffee cake.

It's the small things that give me joy.

There is an update to my credo; Never chew gum and take a dump at the same time. Just think of the olfactory to taste bud mechanics of the whole scenario and you'll understand. The relative addition is; ,and absolutely never pick your nose directly after fingering your ass.