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Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Haunts

Darling Poppy,

It has been brought to my attention that I have been the WORST blogger in blogging history. I have been meaning to reply to your dream catcher conundrum for weeks. Forgive me for my tardiness.

Several people have offered solutions in dealing with your jinxed dream catcher situation. I have been told that you should offer it gifts. Shiny, thoughtful gifts, to remove any jaded and negative demons who reside within it. Failing that, another suggestion is to hang it over your window, so that your bad dreams do not get trapped within the webbing of the dream catcher. They will filter through it and out the window, because well, the window is shiny, and you see, dream catchers deal in the high commodity of shiny. Can you blame them?

Since your post was about your nightmares, I thought I would try to find a solution for your nightmare situation by sharing one of my haunts with you. My haunt doesn't involve bad dreams or ghosts, but the boys of Night Flowers past. I don't mean the real life ones. I'm talking about the ones that I used to day dreamed about. ( OK fine, still day dream about from time to time.)

Take for example, exhibit A. Maxwell Caulfield from Grease 2. That is when my obsession for men with a sexy accent and dressed in leather started. The first time I saw Grease 2, I was just a little kid. The movie is not a masterpiece of awesome, but every time it's on, I have to watch it. It takes me back to a time when I thought all I needed to make my world better was a mysterious boy, on a motorcycle, wearing leather pants and sporting a scrumpadoochus accent.

So, what is the point of this babble? I think you should just get rid of that demon infested dream-catcher. Pin up a picture of Hugh Jackman on your wall in its place. I reckon your nightmares will disappear if he's the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

Love ya like a crazy,
Night Flower

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