Ali Larter Put Roots On Me!

Let me tell you, sweet readers, about my very unusual Thursday evening and please tell me if I should hop a flight to LA to kick this Ali Larter chick's ass or not, okay? So here's what happened.

I was getting ready to cook dinner, and usually I like to have music or a movie playing in the background while I slice n dice n saute, so I went to check out what was new to watch on Netflix. Lo and behold, "Obsessed" was there, and I figured, "Cool. Let me finally see this train wreck, err, film so I can make fun of it."

CHIIIILLLLLDDDDD, first of all, this movie was so DUMB and predictable, I didn't have time to make fun of Beyonce. The writers were my target this time around. Just plain LAZY...giving the audience old recycled plotlines and devices and shit... OOOH I hate a lazy screenwriter! By the time I got to the part were Idris passes out on his bed I shut it off- I already knew where this was going and if there were any doubts in my head the trailer helped me relieve them. TIRED. RECYCLED. PLOTLINE.

After I gave "Obsessed" the big thumbs down on Twitter, I tried to watch "The Way We Were" but the computer started acting up (as it's BEEN doing in its old age) so I was like "UGH! FORGET IT!" and shut down the whole damn thing, finished cooking dinner in silence and decided to sleep off my aggravation with a sweet little evening nap.

MISTAKE!

Apparently me shutting off the movie upset that crazy heifer Ali Larter because not only did it make my computer crash, but I had the CRAZIEST dream + hallucinatory moments! This dream, mannnnnn, CRAZY!! In it, I was taking K to a concert but I couldn't take N because she was too young. So I got a room next door to the venue (don't even ask on what planet this makes sense because hell if I know) in which to stash her while K and I were at the show. When we arrive, no one is on stage yet, and Eb the Celeb is there to inform us the main act isn't performing until at least 10PM. I decide to head back to the room and stay with N until that time.

In this room, which actually turns out to be a rustic cabin (again, I don't know WHERE the fuck we're supposed to be at this point in time) and there's this Russian woman in the room with this baby, as are my mom and her Church Lady Posse. They tell me that this Russian woman is hiding from some people who want to take her baby away so I need to help them protect her.

All of a sudden these big ol' Russian Mafia dudes burst in demanding the baby, and we're all like "GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! YOU CAN'T HAVE THE BABY!" and there's grabbing and snatching and fighting and finally, we get them to leave and keep the Russian woman and her baby safe. Then my mom is all, "We're gonna move her somewhere else. Stay here while I get the van."

Next thing I know, a certain gentleman caller pays me a visit (same dude who "could get it, no commitment necessary" from yesterday's post) and we start making out on the couch (my kids were in the NEXT FREAKIN ROOM with the Russian & her baby). Things got really hot and heavy and clothes began to come off when suddenly we realize we don't have a condom. Which makes sense because at the start of the dream I was taking my child to a damn concert- why would I need a condom for that, right? My question is- why didn't HE have one if he knew he was coming to see me? See, y'all men are triflin... but I digress...

As we're getting dressed and cooling off, Mari shows up, and we're all acting casual as if we weren't all butts out and shit, and she's like, "You know the girls can probably tell he's your boyfriend" in that school marm way she has of talking to me, as if she's the older sister (that's right- I SAID IT!), then I realize my hand is all ass-grabbin and the K&N are looking RIGHT AT ME. So we decide to distract them with these balloons that suddenly appear in the room!

Did I mention that in this dream N is a toddler, walking around in a diaper and nothing else? Well, she is.

So there we are, blowing up balloons for N and she's toddling around in the cabin, insisting on jumping in this mud puddle IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM when my mom shows up to collect the Russian woman + baby.

WHAT.THE.FUCK.

As if that weren't enough to question my sanity, at several points throughout this 3-hour-nap-from-hell I woke up to check on the babies, asking them on three separate occasions if they ate dinner and if it was tasty, AND I sent out some tweets from my Blackberry phone. How do I know? Because K was like, "Mommy, you already asked us that THREE TIMES" and I saw my twitter timeline after I woke up.

*sigh*

I don't know about you, but I'm starting to think Ali is a witch or something. If y'all see her in the street...RUN THE OTHER WAY!

*smooches...scared to go back to sleep*
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I've never had such a crazy dream that included lucid moments that I didn't recall...should I be concerned about my brain?