Truly Outrageous!

 Last night I dreamed I was a space rock star. I had a sleek, silver space shuttle and a lovable group of misfits that I collected to make up my band. There was an androgynous J-Pop star, a German Death-Metal lady (they had a romance sub-plot), an android made of glowing blue nanobots who was trying to understand the connection between math, music, and love (guess who I had a romance sub-plot with), an adorable Latina urchin girl who was an undocumented immigrant – lots of hijinks around sneaking her aboard my shuttle, because once she was on the shuttle, it was considered inter-galactic space-space, and she couldn’t be deported. Rounding out the group was my shady agent/manager, who knew how to get awesome stuff done on the cheap. He was either Kenyan or Nigerian. That confusion was a plot point for some reason, but I can’t recall what the reason was.

We flew around a lot in my spiffy shuttle, though I was not a very good pilot. We caused a lot of chaos that seemed to be a problem at first, but it ended up improving people’s days — like when I crash-flew my shuttle through the space-port, which caused it to close down and give everyone a much-needed day off.

I don’t recall that my space rock band ever got around to playing any music. And I have no clue why my brain decided to dream in the genre of Saturday Morning Cartoon.

8 thoughts on “Truly Outrageous!”

  1. A Humble Offering

    I have recently stumbled upon your journal as I have excess free time to wander about this website. (I was looking up those with Gilbert and Sullivan musical interests when I came upon your journal.) I am afraid I have a long lived love of them.

    I am sorry for intruding into your journal but I have a few questions. Why does someone who is a self-proclaimed ninja lover go about doing such hard work for political candidates? Would not your work be more suited to subterfuge and skullduggery. (I do so love using that word.) Your passion is very misguided if you do not mind me saying so. And you do this for free!?! Bah, I, The Fangdango, Dr. Fangdango, would not only pay you for your very Kitsune/Ninja abilities but offer boarding in my humble home within the mountains. In exchange, you could do work for me that I assure you would find pleasing. Please, think it over. I might be able to create an opening or two within my organization.

    Dr. Fangdango

    1. That’s pretty pretentious. In high school I knew a girl named Anastasia Nastasia. She was gothy and cool and at the time I thought it was the most awesome name ever. Now, I feel kinda sorry for her, even though I still secretly think it is the most awesome name ever.

      Luckily for my little hypothetical Ava (as the family will call her, although my pet nickname for her will be AK-47), by the time she is in school the weird name trend will have backlashed, and all her classmates will be named Jane and Emily. And if she ever gives me grief, I’ll tell her that she’s lucky I didn’t name her Muad’Dib, which is a bitch of a name to try to put into a scan-tron, cause they don’t give you any bubbles to fill out for apostraphes.

      Okay, it is the bedtime for me before the crazy really takes over.

      1. I think it is a GREAT name! And the nickname of AK-47 has a very warm spot in my heart. I wanted to name my hypothetical daughter Cirocco after the heroine in John Varley’s Gaean trilogy

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