Mar. 5th, 2009

wavingpalms: (ming)
 I've had this weird run of dreams lately, and they're all about the bar.

The first one involved turning the school district local on Montague into a bar- Mary M.-S. points out, probably correctly, that this is my subconscious getting even with the College of Charleston for taking the Arcade away from us to turn it into the business school.

But last night's was a doozy. In real life, me & J. had managed to avoid the Miss Pantheon drag pageant, thank god- but in my dream, we'd gotten the dates wrong and it was this Friday (personally, I can take drag or leave it- with 'leave it' winning by a nose). So J. had to work and I was at the light organ- trapped in the booth, we had to watch the entire thing.

I learned that in my dreams, drag pageants are coordinated by Tristan Tzara. 
And the categories! Best I can remember, contestants were judged on these categories:

Berkeley County DSS 
Antlers!
Favorite Serial Killer
Coworker Drag

Like, refreshments were served, and it was brie en croûte. Whether that's because my awake mind has always found brie to be unquestionably cummy, I'll never know.



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May 2009

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