Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs (again)

I have a super power.

I smell things regular people seem to ignore. For example I can smell fear and anger. Do you know dogs detect this odor to find people buried alive after earthquakes and explosions? It’s such a nasty smell, I can’t believe others have never noticed it. It’s a bitter smell. Rancid. As if the stress is literally eating you from the inside and your body is decaying. Or something like that.

I like to boom boom pow.

I’m thinking of vlogging. There’s this meme running around where you pronounce certain words so we can all see different accents and ways of calling stuff. But since I’m concerned with my privacy, I’m looking for a mask I could use. A mask that is half-faced with only the upper part so I can talk freely. This has to be a mask that I feel represents me… It’s hard to find since I’m so hard to define as a person…

I like to boom boom pow.

Last week the competition “Live to Dance” came to an end. I loved that show! I was so rooting for that little solo girl. She was absolutely fabulous. I voted for a TV competition for the first time ever. Ha! I guess you could call this show a guilty pleasure of mine. And the shocker was that Booby was totally into it too! By the finale, when it came down to 3 contestants (a ballet couple, a young duo, and a little girl) he yelled that if the ballet dancers won he’d go on a killing rampage!

I like to boom boom pow.

If you knew him you’d totally be doing a double-take right now. He’s not the kind to watch a show like this and he’s certainly NOT the kind to care about who wins.

The other night I dreamed that the Black Eyed Peas were extra terrestials. In the dream I thought that explained a lot. I like to boom-boom-pow. Then the next night I dreamed I was hanging out with Ted Danson. Ted fuckinghugeforehead Danson! And he was hilarious. Reading a bunch of stuff silly liberal people do. Man I was laughing my face off. Which is odd because I can’t remember a single thing Ted was saying. And I consider myself a liberal so why would I laugh at us?

Then in this dream it dawned on me how my dreams were star packed. And then I thought “wait a minute, are the Black Eyes and T Danson really stars?” And then I thought about how none of these guys would go on Dancing With the Stars. And then I thought “yes, they are true stars…”

And then?

No more “and then’s”.

I like to boom boom pow.

But even in my dreams I know that real stars don’t go on Dancing with the Stars. Real stars don’t even go to the award ceremonies. They send in videos of themselves graciously accepting the award from the comfort of their own homes.

I wonder what Aretha Franklin smelled like with her flowing white dress thing she wore from her home for her Grammy’s recording?