I had another bad dream last night about having someone try and force something on me that I don't want. In this case it was a new car.
I was in the Oprah audience when she gave everyone it it a new car and I didn't want it. I simply left the title on my seat when I left and thought that would be that until some one of her whatevers called me two days later when I got home.
I told him over the phone that I didn't want it and figured that was going to be it. NoOoOo. That was only the beginning of it.
Someone came to my door. I told them to get lost and I didn't want the damned car. They wanted to know why I didn't and I simply said, "Because I don't." and threw them out.
I figured it was going to end there. Wrong.
The next day I was beset upon my a small army of reporters at my house. Quick fix. I called the police and they ordered them off of my property. However they stayed in the street and one of my friends sent me a CARE package full of chow so I didn't have to go shopping and leave the house.
The neighbors grew tired of the reporters and told them off to no avail until I PayPaled one of them about $300 and he folloewed my instructions. He armed the street Irregulars with Daisy Red Ryders and inside a day the reporters, rubbing sore asses, left.
Then another couple of calls from a couple of legal types told me to just simply accept the car and call it good and wanted to know why I would possibly refuse a 'brand new car'.
I told them it had an automatic transmission, air conditioning and power steering and I didn't know how to use those things. Of course they offered to teach me. My reply was, "Yeah, but I don't want them."
Exasperated the legal eagle asked me what I DID want. I told him to write this down.
"I want a '62 Dodge half ton stepside with an external rear fender mounted spare tire, a four-speed floor mounted manual transmission, a Slant Six engine, a heater, a manual choke, a hand throttle with a bench seat to sleep on. No radio, roll-up windows and floor mats made of old conveyor belts covering holes in the floor to drop empty beer cans out of," I said.
"Where do I get that?" he asked.
"You can figure it out and, Oh yeah. The seats should be covered with something that I can clean out with a fire hose with the seats covered with GI blankets I can pull out," I replied.
"I'll get back with you," said the lawyer.
Of course he didn't.
I see a Part Two coming soon. Let this post stew a bit. Remember it.
It's scary when you have a 2 part dream. More later.
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It's been a week and no part 2. This post has been hanging and being a pain in the ass because I have to keep bumping it on my unposted posts list.
Oh, well.
Murphy says the other half will happen soon after I post this.
Murphy is an optimist.
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