BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

No, not what’serface’s ex hubby. I mean the dude in the white truck with the logo on the side…You know, the company made even more famous by Tom Hanks and a volleyball named Wilson… The one that set up shop with Kinkys, er, I mean Kinkos…

Yeah, that FedEx.

And, yeah, it was a dude and not a dudette. I know because I saw him out my office window when he was heading back out to his truck.

So, what’s so special about the FedEx dude dropping by. Well, now that you ask, nothing really. However, the contents of the package he left on my porch are kind of cool.

Wanna know what it is?

Of course, since you are being so uppity, asking me what’s so special and stuff like that, maybe you don’t want to know.

What’s that?

Uh-huh…thought so.

Well I guess you should have thought about that before you said what you did. Maybe I’ll just keep it all to myself and you’ll just have to go around wondering what it is.

Nope. Won’t bother me a bit. Remember me? The guy who leaves cliffhangers at the ends of his books?…

Yeah. I kinda figured as much.

Uh-huh…Well…Okay…Apology accepted. Just don’t let it happen again…

So, anyway, now that we have all THAT settled, the contents of the nifty front porch box were none other than a bunch of promotional bookmarks!

Yeah? Well, I kinda think they’re cool.

Fine. Be that way.

For those of you who are still interested below is a scan. The bookmarks are 2 x 7 and two sided. (I know, it would be kind of hard to be one sided in a three+ dimensional universe, but what I mean is that they are imprinted on both sides…Sheesh! Why is everyone being so difficult today?)

Well, there you go. Bookmarks. I’m hoping the next package has an ipod, or something cool like that in it, but for now, I’m all good with the bookmarks.

From what I understand a lot of these will be going out to various Sci-Fi/Fantasy type conventions around the US, along with the official RGI Chapter Sampler booklets, for distribution on the “freebie/literature tables.”

A goodly portion of my newly delivered stash will travel around with me so I can give them away at booksignings, etc…

Of course, I suppose if anyone wants one and they aren’t going to be attending a convention or signing we will have to work something out. Maybe one of those send me an SASE kind of deals…Guess we’ll have to see if there is a demand.

Okay. Got a bucket of words next to the desk and it’s time for me to splash them against the paper.

Later all!

MR

Good Morning…

I need help. No, not that kind of help. I’m nowhere near as insane as I pretend to be…well, maybe…if you count that incident in…oh, never mind. I promised the other parties involved I wouldn’t talk about that outside of therapy. But, anyway…

What I need help with is dream interpretation. Now, normally I am pretty good at that sort of thing. I can tag the easy as well as the obscure. And, in this particular incident I am certain I could massage some standard interpretation to fit the events, however the bizarre info dump my subconscious let loose on me last night was so odd that I am not entirely sure it even has an explanation. So, here it is:

I’m at the local airport. Not unusual, because I spend so damn much time there anyway that it seems like my home away from home. Never mind the fact that what I know to be my local STL airport (Lambert, Intl) looks for all the world (in my dream) like the airport in Columbus, OH. (Yeah, I’ve been through that one several times, which probably explains that.)

Anyway, here I am walking through the airport when suddenly I run into William H. Macy and Felicity Huffman. Now, I don’t suppose this is unusual in and of itself, because as I recall they are married to one another. But then, that may have changed, I don’t know. I’m not one for keeping up on the break ups and hook ups in “Hollerwood.”

Of course, it wouldn’t be much of a bizarre dream if that’s all there was to it, correct? Correct. So, Huffman and Macy aren’t just standing there, or strolling along running into dreaming folks. No. In point of fact, they are in front of a newsstand taking turns jumping on an oversized, bizarrely constructed, stagger-pedaled pogo stick. (sorry if that makes no sense, but it was the only way I could think of to explain it. Suffice it to say, it was one weird looking pogo stick)…

Now, if that’s not enough, Macy sees me and motions me over, then completely ignores Huffman, leaving her to bounce around the concourse of the terminal on this pogo-contraption. Suddenly I find that we are sitting in easy chairs near the entrance to the restroom, while Huffman continues to gleefully bounce around the concourse, giggling like a little schoolgirl. At this point Macy and I have said nothing to one another, but now he turns to me and asks me what kind of books I write. I tell him. He gives it a moment of thought and then asks me if I have read his blog. (Hell, I didn’t know he had one)…I tell him no. He then asks me if I have a blog. I say yes. (Now, remember, Huffman is still wreaking havoc with the pogo stick in the background of all of this, but TSA and Airport Security don’t seem to care. They are far more concerned that my wife is a potential terrorist and are searching her luggage. NOTE: Prior to this point in the dream I had no idea my wife was even there.)…So, anyway, Macy gets up to leave without a word, stops, turns and comes back, sits down, and then asks me if my “blog is really intense?”…

Then, I woke up and the coffee wasn’t ready yet.

Needless to say, I am confused. Everything seems to be functioning properly and I do know who the president is (unfortunately), and the day of the week, etc, so I don’t think I had a stroke in my sleep or anything.

Still, this one has me scratching my head.

MR