Acid Trip

Just a quickie, here (snicker). My mind is very...unique. It's a strange combination of super fast thoughts combined with total randomness, spiced with my own blend of cracking myself up. An equation of it would look like this:

my mind=v(c)+ k{(yrd)}

where v= the magnitude of the speed of my thoughts at the point time

c= the velocity of light in meters/second, so we get a cube of velocity because I'm not afraid to push the boundaries of theoretical physics, in theory

k= randomness constant, approaches infinity at times

y= sarcasm quotient   

d=inverse of the inherent hilarity of the situation

I calls this Susan's Theorem of Crazypants, or SToC, and the units are mJ, or mind Joules. Anyway, before I lose control of myself and start inventing physics for everything (hey, there, real life blog reader who has already witnessed a fairly crass equation!), the point of this post is proof of the theorem.

Last night I had a dream. My dreams are insane, not like just weird, but incredibly outrageously weird. I'll spare you the agonizing weird details of how weird my dreams are. But as an example:

Picture it:

I was in this hotel-morphing-into-animal-shelter in Florida (it just had that Florida feeling, you know, fucking ugly). A whole bunch of random shit happened, and then my mom and I started looking at the newest shipment of animals (it's in the animal shelter permutation here, if you didn't get that). My mom was simpering over a cute dog, but I was looking into the stack of cages that just arrived at a mini-donkey. It had bright patches or stripes all over its back. We asked the animal shelter lady what was up with that. She said, tut-tutting,"Oh, that's Brian Orser's donkey. They took it from him because he won't stop coloring on it." We also tut-tutted, because coloring donkeys is wrong.

That was my dream. How in the hell is that analyzed? A brightly painted donkey, an 80's figure skater, a morphing Florida venue. I don't really want to know what this says about me. I think it says that my inner donkey needs adopting, and that I feel oppressed by a gay figure skater, and that Florida interiors are often ugly. Or maybe something more sinister, like that I hate donkeys and am glad that Brian Orser is so mean to them in Florida.

I don't know. Ideas, anyone?