I'm known for my strange dreams and I'll often tell people who know me "I had the strangest dream last night" and long ago their reply would be "really? what was it about?" (asked with real curiosity). Twenty years later it's like "yeah so what else is new". Now I'm sure these people think me to be nuts at times.
I'd like to think the strange dreams were from my days of smoking crack but no, I never smoked crack. Or perhaps from inhaling the smoke from the toilet paper I burned as a child? Oh no wait that was my mother who burned toilet paper as a child. Could it be the chemicals from the black tape I used to wrap everything under the sun when I was a kid? No wait, that was my sister Kim, who had this odd obsession with black electrical tape my father used to bring home on his work truck. I wasn't as if she just had to put a few pieces of tape on something to fix it, we're talking whole rolls used to wrap things like baseball bats and cover things like windows.
And when there wasn't black tape left (gee I wonder why?), there was trusty black paint, the old standby. Black paint here, black paint there, black paint everywhere. And then of course when she moved out of mom and dad's house, there was a nice black line left on the wall from something she had spray painted once upon a time. I suppose our little renegade didn't understand the concept of TAPING OFF BEFORE PAINTING???
Did I mention that she shot me in the leg with a beebee gun once?
What on earth was I talking about when I started this post? Does anyone remember?