Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Just continuing on the vivid dream kick, I dreamt last night that this girl I went to school with (kindergarten through high school), who is now (or was at one time) a police officer at the US Capitol... this sentence got confusing. Damn. Anyway, Jessica Gissubel, that's her name, in my dream adopted a baby from Dunkin' Donuts. It turned out to be a really crappy baby, kind of like Problem Child. And she was all mad about it, but I told her that it was a bad idea to get a baby at Dunkin' Donuts. I was kind of just like, "Shoulda just got a chocolate frosted donut. Can't go wrong there. They're not really known for their babies." I don't think I said that exact line, but that was the gist.

Anyway, last I spoke to Jessica she was working as a cop at the US Capitol Building. A search of her name brings up CNN transcripts and such. Last time I saw her, she showed me her gun. That was pretty cool.

And speaking of guns, when I opened up my mailbox today, I found out that I have been accepted as a member into the North American Hunting Club. I don't know why I've received this package, but it's pretty damn funny. I feel like someone sent it as a joke. Other than seeing Jessica Gissubel's gun and my dad telling me when I was a kid not to ever touch his gun, I don't have much experience with guns. Although last time I played Big Buck Hunter, I got two triple bucks. Maybe someone from the Hunting Club saw that and were like, "We need that guy.

I just don't think I'd be much of a hunter. I'm not all about saving animals (I eat lots of them and have run over a few), but I don't see the need to go out of my way to kill them. If this was me in this picture, here's what I'd be saying:

Um, OK, now what do I do?

The kid in that picture is 11-years-old. You should go read his story. It's inspirational. You'll say to yourself, "Well, if an 11-year-old with a rifle can kill a wild boar, then surely I can do anything I put my mind to! As long as I have a gun! And as long as 'whatever I put my mind to' is actually a wild boar!"

Anyway, I think I might get into this whole hunting thing. Check out this cool shit they sent me. They gave me a bright orange wallet type thing that I can put my member card in. Look how hunter I look! I even already have kick-ass hunter glasses. I bought them because they made me look like a child molester, but now they make me look like a child molesting hunter! I'm gonna feel me up some bunny rabbits!

The front of the envelope they sent me says, "Please keep what you learn here to yourself." So I'd best stop talking. They also sent me some return address stickers for me to use. Those are actually pretty nice. They have my address and pictures of bears, eagles and deer; all beautiful things that I could be killing right now.

I think the reason I really never wanted to hunt was that episode of Silver Spoons where Ricky goes hunting with his British grandpa. Then Ricky starts crying when the grandfather tells him to lift up the gun and aim for the heart. I don't remember if he actually shot the deer or not. I think he did. But the message was that hunting is bad. Fucking liberal Hollywood!
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