Dreams of Greatness

Before my internet gave out last night (right after we tied it up) Stinky and I had discussed what we wish had happened (as opposed to what actually had happened)--Because, while realistic philosophy is a great way to live, it's not the most fun in your imagination.

This led us to the discussion of Stinky's attendance at Hogwarts School of Awesomeness And Wizardry (school funding, not being what it ought to be--they had to expand their focus). Her degree was undoubtedly well earned, particularly from Professor of Badassitude: Minerva McGonagall, Professor of Being Wicked Hardcore: Filius Flitwick, and Professor of Dude...Don't Even Try: Joe Mauer (he also was Quidditch coach for Keepers and Beaters)

I went to bed and tried not to think of the imminent doom that was likely to befall us again--another nonquality start, another deficit that we had made up--but probably would not hold on to. So into feverish dreams I fell...dreams about confiscating cellphones, and toys and reprimanding delinquent children, and suddenly being in a tree top canopy, precariously perched with Bert Blyleven as we huddled together for safety, and when we fell al seemed lost, until Bert used his magic curve ball to create a forcefield off the earth, save us both and earn me a position on the Twins Broadcast team.

Then I woke up--and we won...so while my fantasies and dreams of greatness didn't really make that happen, it was far more fun than suckage.

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