I had a dream last night that the house was overrun with wild boars, and I was having to wrangle the things or wrestle them whenever I needed to get a door open. Whew. Despite the fact that wild and/or feral pigs are dangerous, canny, clever, tricky beasts, lethal in a fight, protective of their young and mates, possessing finely honed senses, and capable of legendary feats of strength and ferocity when cornered, y’ever notice that nobody ever says “Yeah, my totem animal’s the wild boar!” And how many boar “fursonas” do you see roaming around?
Then again, I suppose if your totem really were the wild boar, you probably wouldn’t be flaky enough to randomly proclaim this fact to total strangers, being more a strong, silent, private type, right up until you ripped someone’s leg off and ate it.
I also had a dream t’other night that I was attempting to assemble a rifle, which led me to realize that A) I have no idea how to assemble a rifle, and neither does my subconscious, who evidentally thinks it has a spiral squishy grip and loads through the muzzle, which hasn’t been done since those big musket things, I don’t think, and B) one of these days I oughta learn, because despite my inherent pacifism, it was bloody humiliating, even in my head. ‘Sides, you never know when civilization will collapse and I might need to shoot small fuzzy meat-bearing animals with one. The dream then segued into a bit where in order to hide from the police, I disguised myself as a water buffalo. Why I thought the police would be less likely to notice a water buffalo than a nondescript white chick, I can’t even begin to guess, particularly since I seemed to be in Billings, Montana. I chalk it all up to watching a couple episodes of the Superfriends t’other night, an exercise in raw pain and plot holes unmatches in personal experience. (I mean, for god’s sake. They put Giganta in a little wooden pallisade. An OPEN wooden pallisade. She could just go “Gronk!” or whatever she does, and wear the damn thing as a thong! But no, this derailed her complete. And don’t get me started on when Aquaman and Apache Chief got chased by a bloody apatosaurus intent on eating them. I can’t even begin to express what all’s wrong with THAT.)