Striking an Accord
Last night The Neighbor and I went to a very nice interfaith prayer for peace and then we went out for a very, very nice chicken creole salad, Lemon Drops and bananas flambe with vanilla ice cream. The evening ended with our usual Wednesday night activity of watching "Project Runway". (Our little snowboarder girl was eliminated last night which gave us boo-boo faces. She wasn't likely to get all the way to Fashion Week but we liked her).
I tell you all this to set you up for my dream last night, which was wicked brilliant. I solved the Middle East crisis. And not to brag or anything, but I rocked. My solution was comprised of common sense, a maternal "If you can't play nice..." system of rewards and consequences with a little Dr. Phil thrown in ("OK, Children of Ishmael. Your father Abraham sent you and your mother away because his wife had some issues. And how did you feel about that?"). The entire European community and all the moderate Arab nations were totally endorsing my plan and the Arabs were just gleeful about the win/win of economic incentives/disarming of Hezbollah/isolating-Iran-until-they-give-up-their-nukes bit. Also, the theme park (details to be released at a later date. Shhhh).
The best part of the dream was when I looked at Tony Blair and said, "Dude, you can totally be the hero here" and he looked sorta uncertainly toward Condi, who was sitting all by herself in a corner and then he looked at me, his face lit as my brilliance dawned on him, and he said, "Bloody hell! You're right!" You see, I was coaching Tony because it wasn't about getting the credit for talking sense into all these bozos; I just wanted them to stop mucking up things for everyone else because enough is enough. Which is what I told them. Condi was totally ticked off but frankly, I'm not sure if that's because Tony and I snatched whatever chance she had at a legacy away from her stupid little neo-con fingers OR if it was because I was wearing this:
I tell you all this to set you up for my dream last night, which was wicked brilliant. I solved the Middle East crisis. And not to brag or anything, but I rocked. My solution was comprised of common sense, a maternal "If you can't play nice..." system of rewards and consequences with a little Dr. Phil thrown in ("OK, Children of Ishmael. Your father Abraham sent you and your mother away because his wife had some issues. And how did you feel about that?"). The entire European community and all the moderate Arab nations were totally endorsing my plan and the Arabs were just gleeful about the win/win of economic incentives/disarming of Hezbollah/isolating-Iran-until-they-give-up-their-nukes bit. Also, the theme park (details to be released at a later date. Shhhh).
The best part of the dream was when I looked at Tony Blair and said, "Dude, you can totally be the hero here" and he looked sorta uncertainly toward Condi, who was sitting all by herself in a corner and then he looked at me, his face lit as my brilliance dawned on him, and he said, "Bloody hell! You're right!" You see, I was coaching Tony because it wasn't about getting the credit for talking sense into all these bozos; I just wanted them to stop mucking up things for everyone else because enough is enough. Which is what I told them. Condi was totally ticked off but frankly, I'm not sure if that's because Tony and I snatched whatever chance she had at a legacy away from her stupid little neo-con fingers OR if it was because I was wearing this:
Condi was for sure jealous of my little dog. No one noticed her Prada boots. At all.
Labels: Project Runway
cobbled together by Moi at 10:41 AM
3 Comments:
Hey just wanted to let you know that sling's URL has been hijacked and is linking to something I don't think you'd want to be linking to. The updated link for his new url is on on my web page.
Have a nice day...:)
And unfortunately, I figured I should check my link in case it was your end that was buggy. Thanks for the warning. Next time I'll listen to you. And thanks for the new url.
lorraine, you are so funny!
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