Having fun wears you out. Having a cookout on the hottest day of the year and then lighting fireworks for two hours? Even when you stay properly hydrated--
(It was the hottest day of the year at the time. Today broke the record, so today is now the hottest day of the year. But yesterday, today was tomorrow and hadn't happened yet.)
I may have had just a touch of heat exhaustion; or perhaps it was just "whee I had a lot of fun and now I'm extra-tired!" exhaustion. I don't know; what I do know is that I postponed my therapy appointment until tomorrow so I could say home and sleep, because my entire skeleton hurt and I didn't want to move.
So I slept, basically all day.
That was absolutely fine, but when I woke up around 9:30 it was from a dream about me being in a motorcycle gang which was fighting against this weird psychic vampire. See, this guy's eyes would project these crystalline spears, and when he'd look someone in the eye from about 2-3 inches' distance they'd spear the other person's eyes and then sink in. The vampire wouldn't have eyes for a few seconds while the crystal spears sank into his victim's eyes (without a trace) and once they had, the vampire would blink and have eyes again, but his victim was completely under his control.
Once this was accomplished, to all inspection the victim was in a coma. The vampire would put the victim through all kinds of (virtual) hell and absorb the psychic energy emitted by the victim as he suffered. The victim would slowly die of this (over the course of a few days) and the whole cycle would repeat.
I was watching this and thinking, "Gee, this is actual horror, not just a splatterfest." And then the vampire started going after young boys, having developed a taste for them; be finding that they were too agile for him to devour, he set his eyes on one of my friends, which is when I got involved with trying to stop him.
Somehow a bunch of motorcycle guys ended up forming a posse to hunt this thing down and kill it--and having spent a night bivouacking at someone's house, we now were heading out to do battle.
I had to hit the can. As I was closing the door I heard one of the other bikers say to a third party, "He is a man to be reckoned with!" And while I was in there I was looking at myself in the mirror, admiring my nacho sombrero, and saying, "Yep! I'm a man to be reckoned with, and I'm wearing a nacho sombrero!" ...and that's when I woke up.
"What," you may ask, "the fuck is a 'nacho sombrero'?"
It's a hat, damn it!
...the top part is heated and is essentially a nacho cheese fountain. (Like a chocolate fountain, but with cheese.) The brim contains tortilla chips. Someone who wants nachos picks up a tortilla, sticks it into the flow of cheese, and eats it. That is a nacho sombrero. Please try to keep up.
Anyway, I was disappointed that I'd have to take my nacho sombrero off in order to put on my helmet, so it's just as well that I woke up just as the dream achieved maximum awesome.
* * *
The socialization of America is economically impossible. Socialism is always economically impossible. It doesn't keep people from trying, of course.
The article presents an interesting idea: that socialism is a symptom, rather than a cause, of societal collapse.
* * *
...the hamburgers I grilled yesterday? Perfecto. The cooking method was the only difference from how I usually make them, but that was the only thing missing that kept my burger recipe from being perfect.
And even when I've taken one that sat in the refrigerator overnight and heated it for 30 seconds in the microwave, it still tastes great.
* * *
Liberals being hypocritical? NAAW! That never happens!
Yes, the very same people who were all up in GWB's grill because of Guantanimo Bay are completely silent when it comes to Barack Hussein doing exactly the same things.
No, it's not even remotely surprising. "Surprising" would be if they did excoriate their boy for the same things for which they excoriated the hated Republican.
* * *
Sailor V--wanting me to come over and ride my dirt bike while he rides his ATV--generously offered to loan me the cash to buy the cylinder, piston, and etc lot from Ebay that I was salivating over a few days ago.
...he's on disability, he lives with his mom, and his primary expenses are food and WoW. He doesn't exactly have money to burn or anything but he's got more income than I do, and all involved know I'm good for it.
So, next week or so I'll be hauling the dirt bike back inside to take apart everything I just put together. Further, the job I did with the exhaust stud ends up being totally unnecessary.
But if it means the damn bike will perform properly, I'm all for it.
Still have to find the service manual for the dirt bike. I seem to have put it in a safe place. Unfortunately, I can't remember where that is. *sigh*