Backstory on the Newton de-skulling the skellie in a cemetary pic… this morning I was awakened by a gentle bippity-bip of a Newtie paw…somehow that got integrated into my dream of walking through a graveyard. In my half-awake stupor, I envisioned him hopping, predator-bunny like, from tombstone to tombstone, smacking the long-bleached bones into tall piles of shiny white that fall with the sound of wind chimes (or maybe gamelan and xylophone tones). It occurs to me that the skeletons should’ve been buried in the ground or at least had some tatters of clothing on, but that simply wasn’t the case… most of them were sitting crosslegged, or even standing on top of the different plots, leaning on the headstones.

After talking with my brother last night, I’ve got Bali and its music on the brain, which might be where the gamelan sounds came from… but the boneyard was very western, “almost a boot hill” style. The bippity-bip completely overwrote the rest of my previous dream memory.

Is chocolate-bubble gum a good milkshake flavor? I rather lean to mint-chocolate chip or pineapple/blueberry.

Well, I’ve slacked enough this Lazy Sunday…time to reboot and take a shower. see you later, dear journal.