It’s stupid that movies should impart bad dreams. Maybe it’s just coupled with the familial stress from my current circumstances (I’ve just cancelled my first shows almost EVER). Whatever it was, I dreamt post-apocalyptic dreams, of looting and survival-oriented improvisation. There was a lot of thinking in my head about where to pull people too. The school down the street? The house? Some place further out? I met a lot of freinds while scavenging at a Best Buy/department store. I tested lots of baseball bats before I found the one that was going to be MY defensive device (till I found something better…) I ran across Audrey, and her sister. Rick survived, John didn’t. It was a frightening dream, perhaps spawned by salsa, the Sum of All Fears, and that Y2K episode of Family Guy. My brain feels battered.
Obviously, these Western Pennsylvania flies want to get out of this town – a place that exists simply because you can only go so far on a historic route (40) before there has to be SOMETHING. So the flies have built, labouriously and at great cost to themselves, this tollhouse… unwary travellers, like ilyAIMY, pull over in the hopes of learning something new and exciting, and the flies jump in the car. It is a dashed cunning plan, but we caught on to them, shooed them out and hightailed it back to the highway.
At least, that’s one theory. And you may feel it to be somewhat unlikely, but I do believe that it’s more of a possibility than our OTHER theory; that they had misinterpreted the sign and thought that it referred to a giant Tollhouse cookie… if only for the certain fact that flies can’t read.
