Weird Harold's Invisible Couch

I had this dream the other night...
I was attending a pool party in the country with people I may or may not have known, at a house I may or may not have visited before. I spent a good deal of the dream in this huge pool with a very deep deep end. But I had nothing to fear, for I was floating on... Weird Harold's Invisible Couch. Yeah, Weird Harold from the Fat Albert cartoons. Maybe he found this couch in that junkyard they always hung out in? If they could build instruments out of junk, certainly an invisible couch is no big deal. Only it wasn't really invisible, just kind of see-through. And while it floated, it wasn't a piece of that inflatable furniture that's so big with the kids these days. Just a couch... that you could see through... and that floated. Mushmouth, in all his animated glory, had come to swim, too, perhaps only to remind me that Mushmouth wears a ski cap, while Weird Harold wears something that's like a ski mask, only not. Weird.
After taking a dive -- or maybe it was a fall, or maybe... I was pushed -- into the deep end, I wandered into the mysterious house to find my high school science teacher showing Church of the Subgenius propaganda films in a narrow hallway. Afterwards she gave out ice cream. I had an orange push up. Man, those are tasty. And should only be eaten if orange.
At some point, even though this wasn't my house, I received some comics I'd bought off of eBay. Naturally, these were comics I'd neither heard of nor could recall buying. It's okay, 'cause some of them were about Thanos, the big purple lug.
Then some scary guy with a name like Nemesis Enforcer (only not) and a big sword came in and threatened to kill me or erase me from reality or whatever it is guys with huge magical swords do. I, of course, grabbed one of my cats, whimpered, and begged this monstrous dude not to kill me.
And then it all kind of faded out. Kinda wish it had faded out shortly after I used the phrase "Weird Harold's Invisible Couch."
You probably do, too.

The buyin' o' th' green

After an uneventful trip to the dentist yesterday -- as uneventful as a toothscraping with a metal hook can be, anyhow -- I wandered over to Wal-Mart with my family to have a look at whatever fun new toys might be available.
Seems that, even around here, it's hard to get new toys unless you're there as soon as they arrive. The pickings were mostly slim. I blame collectors; I saw a tubby guy pawing at the Star Wars stuff when I arrived. I was in awe of the new Gundam toys, despite the fact that tiny plastic representations of giant robots is kinda silly. I still wanted all the ones on the back of the cards that were, of course, not available. Three Gundam figures to choose from, two Lord of the Rings figures to choose from, about 20 Justice League cartoon Batmans, and a bunch of shitty Transformers: Armada toys was about it. Except for the huge pile of new Ninja Turtles toys they had. They had ONE SHREDDER, so I bought it. Can't recall if I had a regular-pants Shredder "back in the day," but I know I had a Super Shredder. Remember him? From the second TMNT movie? Yup, when Shredder got hit by ooze he turned into... a really shitty toy based on a really shitty movie. Whoops. So, I bought a brand new Shredder, 'cause it looks really cool. His swords are kind of floppy, but his big, bladed staff is neat.
Also, I bought these. Yup. Giant talking foam Hulk hands. I can't put it so lovingly as X-E, so you should read about them. They really are that glorious.
And today I went back and bought the four Turtles themselves. My mom made me. "You should go buy them," she said, "because you'll kick yourself if you wait too long and they sell out." Moms always know best. And they're great looking figures, except for the floppy weapons. Is this a safety thing? Finally some toys from Playmates that don't come with weapons made entirely of brownish-orange plastic, and you couldn't poke through a piece of fresh bread with them, let alone blind your little brother. Kids are being ripped off.
Also, the new Transformers are shitty.

Pay attention to me!

My poor weblog. I guess one can't successfully keep a weblog without ignoring it for a good stretch of time and then apologizing for not updating. Well, screw that. I don't even know who reads this. I think maybe two people have the address. And it's not like there is a whole lot going on. I'm depressed, behind in my studies, and drowning in piles of unread comics. And I can't beat this giant sandworm thing in the new Zelda game. Poor me.

Tomorrow is Thunder Over Louisville, the largest fireworks display in the country and the first stop on Louisville's "party road" that includes Thunder, the Kentucky Derby, and... well, warm weather, basically. It's a nice excuse to hang around outside all day long, eat stuff off a grill, and drink too much beer. Ah, summer.

And Rob Zombie's "House of 1,000 Corpses is out today, finally. Not that I'm expecting a cinematic masterpiece, but... Rob Zombie. Dude.

And it won't be much longer till my woman gets here for good. That should go a long way towards cheering me up. 'cause I'm pretty much going in-mother-fucking-sane here.

Yum, hyphens and infixes.