Yesterday the doctor put me on some morphine-based medicine for a sinus-infection and it did nothing except give me the most entirely fucked-up fever dreams. The last one though was quite funny so I thought I’d write about it today because I dreamed that someone was trying to sell me those tiny easter-egg-ish containers “for storing your extra puddings” and I was all “Who the hell has extra pudding?” But then when I started to write about it I realized that the pudding easter eggs storage-containers don’t actually exist in real life and suddenly the whole thing seemed rather pointless, but my mind keeps going “Oh! Don’t forget to write about the puddings” and I have to keep reminding myself that it’s redundant (at best) to write a post making fun of the idiocy of someone who only exists in your dreams, and also that I need to stop taking morphine so close to bedtime.
What you missed on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle:
- 8 million people yelled at me last week when I admitted that I had blown off an interview with Sportacus so I went back and actually did one. You people owe me.
- I’ve left my boot-print in the minds of our youth.
What you missed on my sex column (which is satirical and vaguely safe for work if your boss isn’t a complete douche-canoe):
What you missed in my shop (tentatively named “Eight pounds of uncut cocaine” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):
What you missed on the internets:
- I somehow made it into the finals in the 2011 Bloggies for Most Humorous, Best Writing and Blog of the Year. It’s okay if you don’t vote for me though because I plan on claiming that I won anyway. No one ever double-checks that shit. Just like last year when I won for Best European Blog. It was a real surprise, let me tell you.
- I was in this month’s issue of The Printed Blog, which is not really safe for work because of the incredible number of nipples in it (six).
This week on Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:
This week’s wrap-up sponsored by The Committee to Stop People From Becoming Tremendous Douchebags Who Are Hell-Bent On Making You Feel Like Utter Shit For Seemingly No Reason What-So-Ever. I don’t know if it actually exists or not, but it totally should.
103 thoughts on “It was really funny in my head”
Read comments below or add one.
Last night I had a dream that someone covered my entire car windshield with hot glue. You came over and you were all like, “Don’t worry Whitney, I’ll buy you a fruit roll-up.” It was strawberry.
I actually have a Jell-O snack-pack pudding in my lunch today. This is somehow related.
In other news: Yes, I’m 12 years old.
Well, I wanted to be the first comment so I thought I would actually comment before I read the post. But then, I accidentally started reading about morphine dreams, which by the way, are usually nightmares so I was impressed that you dreamt about extra pudding.
But mostly, I wanted to say that I can’t stop thinking about time share ponies and it’s driving me mad(der) and I was thinking that we should be pals cuz you remind me of me (which is awesome) but then I realized that I could practically be your mother so I was all like NOPE, guess not friends so…perhaps I could be your mentor except, I don’t really even like pudding.
I volunteer to chair the committee.
Two nights ago I dreamed that my boyfriend and I had a 7 year old boy that was sick (we don’t have a 7 year old kid, sick or not) and that my boyfriend/baby daddy tied a boot around his neck (loosely, he’s a good imaginary parent) for the kid to puke in. Because the boyfriend calls puking “booting”. So the kid was booting in a boot. Even in my dream I found this hilarious.
I once had a morphine-induced dream that Luke Skywalker had tied me to a slab a la “Frankenstein” and was force feeding me tapioca pudding until I threw up.
This whole morphine pudding dream thing cannot be a coincidence.
Someone on my Face place said they had a dream ABOUT Face place and then polled the Face place crowd all, “does that mean something?”
What I’m saying is: At least your dreams are imaginative.
Hi! The other night I dreamt that I “lost time” while waiting in line to meet Journey. One minute, I’m in line, wearing an awesome Journey t-shirt and a light brown leather blazer, and then the next minute, blam! I’m standing in an emptying wharehouse type place. And I felt jipped and confused. “Wait, did I meet Steve Perry or not?” I kept muttering over and over. Not as good as your dream, but tell me, Jenny, is this normal? No morphine involved at all, so I don’t even have that excuse. I mean what’s the point of creating an entire dream construct just to have the main part skipped? I distinctly remember looking to the head of the line, to the Journey table and seeing Steve Perry there. Fantastic hair and all. OK, then.
You made it into the blog finals, because you are so damn funny…. Duh….
On another note, I need to meet the person with extra pudding, they can’t exist…
Last night I dreamed my female personal trainer posted pictures of me in sheer lingerie on her website without my permission. At first I was mortified, but then realized I looked much hotter than I really do in real life. I felt better about the pictures after that.
I was totally sober when I had that dream. Maybe I should try morphine.
You mark my words, you’re going to be referring to this as the best. sinus infection. ever.
Or not. Who knows what Morphine’s hidden agenda is?
UM, if it’s butterscotch pudding, hook me UP!
And on an unrelated, yet related note, I’m a suck up and voted for you in every catagory your blog appears in for the Bloggies.
I always enjoyed my morphine dreams, but then so often they featured Kelly Ripa, which was totally awesome for me, but more than a little creepy for Kelly Ripa when I wrote to tell her about it. That’s what her lawyers said, anyway.
I had a nightmare last night that Justin Bieber was 40 feet tall and coming RIGHT AT ME. It was terrifying. For this reason, I have no plan to attend his new 3-D movie.
Stoppit dammit! I have a miserable cold and laughing out loud causes me to have horrible coughing fits. Where’s the damn morphine??????
Whoo hoo! I’m number 14! That’s my favorite number.
No really, it is.
Ok so I’m normally on like 4 different mental health meds that give me the weirdest most fucked up dreams ever. But now I’m off them because I’m pregnant. Only now I’m having pregnancy dreams which are actually really kinda just as fucked up, come to think about it.
FYI, Cymbalta, Geodon, Trileptal and Lunesta are a potent combo for some weird dreams. Just in case you run out of morphine.
Since you brought up pudding I felt it was my moral duty to ensure that you have, in fact. experienced the pudding joy that is Giga Pudding (if this link doesn’t paste properly, just search for Giga Pudding on YouTube) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9sEI1AUFJKw
After I blogged about why Jenny should absolutely be in a Bond movie with panda-car stunts and panda pyjamas and panda astronaut boxer shorts, I needed another fix. So I did a hit of some Bizarro/Piraro comics and found one about a big top circus act with nothing but reptiles and then I was all wired about just exactly how long it would take for 11 feet (that’s like 3350 cubic millimeters roughly) to go through a flaming hoop. So I timed it. And filmed the whole thing. And stuck it on Youtube.
And I don’t even have morphine.
Or leftover pudding.
But this is why I’m meeting Treelobsters tonight for dinner. Woo hoo!
Sinus Meds make me have LSDish fever dreams too. I can’t take it anymore. One time I had 5 horrifying dreams within a dream. After the 5th one I woke up and forced myself to eat crackers to make sure I was in the right reality.
I admit it: I have extra pudding. And I need containers for it. Many small containers, like the ones that hold the gum eggs at Easter time. I always used to get those in my Easter basket and I love them so much even though now that I have a big-person-sized mouth I can fit all of them into my mouth at one time. And they lose their flavor fourteen seconds after starting to chew on them. And then they turn into rubber in your mouth. But I still love them. On an unrelated note, I have weird dreams and nightmares like that all the time, when I’m not on anything. It’s when I am on drugs that the dreams finally become somewhat normal.
Now I feel like an addict but let me clarify, I don’t abuse drugs; I just take them when I have a prescription for them. Like Lortab.
Was that convincing?
I don’t even know what to say except that the pic of Sportacus, or whoever that is when you googled Sportacus nipples, is FUCKING HOT!! OMG! I want that guy to take my panties off with his teeth!
Still no panda costume dammit. I again find it much easier to take you seriously in your panda costume.
The only way numbers of nipples are incredible is if the number is odd. If there were seven nipples, I would be totally intrigued. As is, it’s just, “meh, nipples.”
Morphine-based sinus medicine?
I got prescribed Nasonex.
That’s it. I’m switching fucking doctors.
I’m not saying anything but I MIGHT just feel a sinus headache coming on. If only I thought I could cope with any more weirdness.
Also, Kinder Eggs, they could be cases for extra pudding, you know, for those weirdos who leave pudding. Not that they deserve a cool egg-shaped container when they go round leaving stuff willy-nilly.
Funny. I’m on cold meds and had the weirdest dreams last night/this morning too.
I’m with moooog. I’ve never had a sinus infection. But I want the kind where you get morphine for it. Can you please tell me what words I should use to describe my sinus infection so that my doctor will believe that I have one and then give me morphine-based medicine for it? Thank you.
I gotta meet this doc. . .
As an aside, it seems totally necessary to have storage for extra puddings. I’m just sayin’..yanno. Otherwise it escapes and raises an entire pudding army and then wtf do we have for dessert?
….N/M. Don’t need the morphine after-all. I have issues on my own.
you DO know that the soundtrack to mr. blow-up was actually the beginning of Paul Simon’s “boy in the bubble,” from his Graceland album. don’t you?
i like my freaksih dreams brought on by medication. i think i shall write a novel based upon them all. it will make no sense whatsoever and probably be a best seller.
love you! hope you feel better!
Strangest dream I ever had took place at the Duane Reade by Rockefeller Center and featured Courtney Love looking for pantyhose sold in those plastic L’egg eggs. I told her that they didn’t sell them in the eggs anymore because it was better for the environment that way. She looked at me, in a way that only Courtney Love can, and asked me if I was running for fucking office.
I need a new doctor. I get nothing but a hard time when I get a sinus infection.
Morphine, cocaine and a sex column! We were meant to be together lady 😉
I always have weird dreams and bad sleep with pain meds, too.
But last night I was not on pain meds and I had a snip of a dream wherein I was telling someone, “Those are my pregnancy beads. I keep them in my vagina.”
FTR, I am not pregnant, cannot get pregnant, don’t know WTF pregnancy beads might be and I do *not* store anything in my vagina.
When I was pregnant and visiting friends, I had a dream I was hanging out in Jane Fonda’s basement with some rappers and I said to them, “my feet are so big I call them yards.”
I had a dream that my oldest and I were locked in a basement, out of food, and the zombies were about to break through the door, and I had a gun with only one bullet in it, and I had to choose to kill my son so he wouldn’t suffer or use it to kill the first zombie that broke through but be screwed as the others would still get us. Worst dream ever.
Also, morphine makes me act like a major bitch. Which can be kinda fun, as I am prone to letting people walk all over me. I should be on morphine all the time!
No one in their right mind has extra pudding.
Now, if they were all hopped up on Morphine, maybe they’d be all delusional and have a closet-full of pudding.
I want your doctor. Sounds like he dispenses the good shit! Hope your sinuses feel better. And that you find some pudding.
I wish you hadn’t included after your would-be sponsor the disclaimer, “I don’t know if it actually exists or not, but it totally should,” cuz I was about to pick up whatever “The Committee to Stop People From Becoming Tremendous Douchebags Who Are Hell-Bent On Making You Feel Like Utter Shit For Seemingly No Reason What-So-Ever” was putting down.
Thanks……. now I want pudding and its snowing too freaking hard to go out and get it. Fuck.
I know EXACTLY what you mean by the weird dreams while under the influence of morphine. When I had hip surgery, I had this dream that I was myself, but was locked in the body of Humphrey Bogart….. I initially noticed that I sounded like the dude and when I saw my reflection, I looked like him. When I woke up, or at least thought I had woken up, I was so doped up that I sat there for an hour trying to figure out if I was actually asleep and dreaming or if there was a Humphrey Bogart movie on the hospital television. I couldn’t figure it out, but have since come to the conclusion that it was a dream. Being under the influence of morphine or hydromorphine in this case is a pretty strange climate.
@rene – That is fabulous. I’m envious of your dreams. My weirdest dream to date is a tie between the dream where a ufo landed that was inhabited by a race of Elvis impersonators, or the dream where all the houses on my street came to life and were talking to me. Freaky shit when you’re only seven.
Last night I had a dream that a motorcycle fell on my daughter and then Alan Jackson sang her “Hush little baby” so that she wouldn’t cry. I have no clue where they came from.
I always like your ‘shit-i-didn’t-come-up-with’. that light show on building thing was super cool.
Hello, morphine! The last time I had anything that potent, I was trying to evict a small-ish human being from my womb. Your doctor is obviously awesome.
I was sleep deprived all weekend and last night I had the weirdest dream. The funny thing was, it was incredibly boring and routine. I went grocery shopping (which I usually love) and ran other errands. I woke up exhausted because mentally I had already done an entire week’s worth of shit.
You always crack me up 🙂 Even on Mondays!
So what did you do with the extra pudding? If it’s chocolate, I want it. But if it’s rice pudding? What am I supposed to do with THAT stuff?
Sorry you got one of the bugs floating around. But looks like you got a great shirt out of it anyway. I’ve been lucky and seemed to have avoided all the crap that it seems everyone but I have had. It must be good karma from the busload of nun and orphans I pleasured last year.
Why would that Sportacus guy make you find your own picture of his nipples?
It’s quite possible that your doctor lied to you and really gave you a pill laced with PCP and called it morphine. That’s what I’d do if I were him, only because then I’d know it’d give you some crazy dreams and your blog would be even a little more outrageous than usual.
Maybe your doctor doesn’t read your blog. Or maybe he DOES.
You are not overrated, you are totally hysterical, and us mere mortal bloggers can only aspire to becoming 1/4 the blogger you are. That is why you are…da-da-daaaaa…..THE BLOGGESS!
I am not worthy!
Oooh, it just hit me: You should call your online shop “Stop Snorting Cocaine, Asshole.” Because then, not only are credit card bills more amusing, but they’re also impromptu PSAs.
Yeah, I know. You’re welcome.
Ahhh, the weekly wrap up…morphine (just a little), pudding (lots and lots)…..the only problem is that I can see that I will not be making dinner or feeding the pets or….
So long as the extra pudding didn’t then grow arms and claw your eyes out, I’d say you got off easy. Medicine-induced dreams can be brutal.
I voted. You’re welcome.
I tried to watch the whole video of the building but I got bored. Maybe it is the raccoon hormones that my new doctor gave me. Probably.
Maybe you should talk to your doctor about using raccoon hormones instead of morphine? It could clear those sinues up so well that you will be smelling dumpsters that are blocks away.
Gawd, I’m such a Gleek.
Morphine makes me constipated. Which is why it’s OK to take before bedtime.
What the fuck kind of doctor prescribes a MORPHINE based sinus med???
PS: Can you get me some, too?
PPS: I call “The Committee to Stop People From Becoming Tremendous Douchebags Who Are Hell-Bent On Making You Feel Like Utter Shit For Seemingly No Reason What-So-Eve” The Free Range Stupid. It’s shorter, easier to remember and has a better acronym. (Yes, I have trademarked TFRS, but you can use it if you want.)
PPSS: You’re right, who the hell ever has extra pudding? Geez.
Hang on wait, what sort of pudding are we talking about? The bready, bread and butter puddings, cakey like chocolate self-saucing, tapioca/sago, pudding cup pudding that has the consistency of a Snak Pak yoghurtish dessert? Because only some of those are worth making egg-shaped containers to store extra for later in.
On a side note, I have a file on my computer called “Pancake influenza dream” (it’s quicker to type dreams you remember than scribble them down on paper). A part from another dream:
After I do something I end up choosing to walk into the queer bathroom (there’s all different bathrooms including a pink Hugs one and a “The Rest” one that looks the most normal). It’s a pretty amazing thing but it’s so damn confusing due to the brightly painted walls and the mirrors. I yell “I know it’s a bit conventional, but some freaking signs on posts would be nice!” and people agree. It’s some sort of thing where there’s not only a bathroom but other sort of respite things like lounges etc.
This is from the person who once dreamt about entering your house through an already broken window or something equally stalkerish though…
I have been dreaming about Oprah like for the last two weeks. Weird Oprah dreams about Oprah and I being friends, me working for Oprah and me trying to get on the Oprah show. For what? No idea. Sometimes when I wake up I’m kind of sad because me and Oprah being pals was a pretty fucking cool dream and then I’ll say something to my jackwagon husband about my Oprah dream and he’s all “were she and Gayle doing it in your dream”? And then I have to flick him hard in his ‘nads because he totally ruined the innocence and sweetness of my Oprah dream. *sigh* I’m not on morphine sinus meds but I am a little drunk. Just sayin’.
My dream trumps your dream in three words. Disapproving.Kim.Kardashian.
What in hell I could have possibly done to earn her disapproval, my concious mind has mercifully blocked out.
Also your pain makes me sad, while your writing makes me happy. I know we are not in a relationship, so you should probably stop toying with my fragile, fragile emotions.
Sportacus is going to have to change is name to Boring-Pedanticus, because that is what he was in that interview.
As a chairperson elect for that commitee we would like to thank you for your ongoing support.
I first read that as you interviewed “Spartacus” which totally made sense because there’s an ancient S&M sort of themed sex toy/ porn shop called Spartacus that’s been in Portland forever. But they may have gone out of business and been replaced by a lewd doughnut shop. I’d be happy to look into that for you.
I had no idea there was more than one Sportacus, however. How many Stefanys?
I’m not sure how you got into the finals of the blog contest thing….but then, I’m not sure why I keep coming back. Must be something addictive hidden in here somewherel
As other commentors have said: “Your doctor gives you morphine for a sinus infection?!” Clearly, your doctor rocks! Can I have his number?
(And I know, a bad sinus infection really can be as painful as to require something as strong as morphine. Believe me, I feel your pain. Unfortunately, most doctors are not so forthcoming with the pain meds. Erf!)
Pudding in an Easter Egg! Better then pudding cups because you can rinse out the egg and use it for the holiday next year…just refill with your extra pudding. And what kid wants jelly beans and money anyway? You could enjoy a pudding in an egg any time of year. Remember “Sheer Energy” and Leggs pantyhose? I would need to use that size for pudding. Not the little eggs. And a shiny silver egg filled with chocolate pudding? It’s blingy, yet filled with pudding-y goodness.
We are just finishing our antibiotics for sinus infections. We were not offered any type of morphine based medicine. We had to rely on Nyquil slushies.
On another note, our blog post today was a follow up to the Christmas giving you inspired. Feel better! Thanks again. 🙂
The YouTube shit was hill-arious.
So, I’d really like to buy a t-shirt. Specifically, the “Feeling Stabby” one, because, well, I feel stabby. A. Lot. Unfortunately, I am what I like to call, “a big girl.” Now, I’m not saying that fat girls are into you, but I’m bettin’ I’m not the only 3X who feels stabby. Think you can do something about that?
I regularly think of that post of Allie’s.
GENIUS! Those plastic egg thingies are *perfect* for pudding. This is so way more than Martha! Also, Random’s dream guy tying a vomit receptacle/boot around the kid’s neck is awesome. Thanks for the tip!
Also, thanks to all you Commenters for posting some crazy funny blogs yourselves!
There is no such thing as “extra pudding.” There is only “pudding I am about to eat.”
Hey!!! I have a sinus infection as well, and all I got was a rotten package of amoxicillin.
I’m totally putting that on a t-shirt.
And, yes, it’s true. Not the t-shirt part, although I just might do that. For money, not fun. Because we both know sinus infections are anything BUT fun. Especially when you only have a lousy pack of antibiotics.
The shit you were doing when you weren’t here has taken me on an emotional rollercoaster of laughter, awe, stupor, horniness, and depression, so now I must drink and binge eat. And look for morphine.
I was worried when I counted seven nipples in the Printed Blog.
But then I realised one of them was just my reflection in the computer screen.
My mom had crazy narcotics dreams after her ankle surgery. One night she dreamed that little gnome-like people tied her down and enclosed her leg in a cast. She woke up in a panic and thought, “Thank God, it was just a dream.” She flipped back the covers and saw her leg actually was in a cast. Then she flipped her shit. She doesn’t understand why I find that story hilarious.
Do you know how lucky you are that you aren’t just dead to the world when you’ve had morphine-based products? I can sleep for days on morphine but I can’t do anything else.
Maybe the worst thing to realize on Easter eve is that plastic eggs actually have tiny holes in them, something clearly intended to keep anyone from making jello shots in them. Maybe the best thing to realize on Easter eve is hey, look. Vodka.
The Sock Monkey is my favorite. And the Homer Simpson sex tape? Absolutely wrong. Not just wrong but creepy.
Excellent as usual. Sorry you’re sick again. You’ve had a bad winter. Glad that stupid rodent predicted an early spring. On a separate note, I second the request for extended sizes on the “stabby” tee shirts. We big girls probably feel stabby more than most people. Just a guess.
Ah, now that’s something I need to add to my New York to do list: find out exactly what pudding is in America.
If the The Committee to Stop People From Becoming Tremendous Douchebags Who Are Hell-Bent On Making You Feel Like Utter Shit For Seemingly No Reason What-So-Ever doesn’t exist, you should totally create it. It’s an important issue that must be addressed in this world.
Glad I’m not the only one with effed up dreams, though I have no medication to blame them on. For the last week or so, I’ve had a recurring dream that I’ve had a heart attack and begged my husband to revive me. So either it is a sign I need to start living better, or sleep with one eye open to make sure he isn’t going to off me while I sleep.
Not sure if you meant to misspell “meant” on your t-shirt about couples balancing each other out. You have “ment”.
I enjoy your blog. Hope you are feeling better.
My last round of hallucinogenic dreams involved lesbians, pierogies, and Sandford and Son. Not all in the same dream, silly. That would be weird. The lesbian got her own dream.
My God, I love you people.
PS. If you want the Stabby t-shirt in a larger size just click on the “choose color and style” button and it’ll let you put it on anything they have. The girl shirts go up to 2x and the unisex shirts go up to 4x.
I think a dream about left over pudding is pretty tame, though I think Freud would insist that you have some sort of penis envy. Or sperm envy. And while he’d say that about any dream, it’s just funnier when you’re dreaming about pudding.
Let’s see…the number of times I was prescribed morphine-based medication for horrific pain…um…yeah…NEVER! I love you Jenny and you’re doctor too.
PS- I hate pudding
I hate typos too…YOUR doctor.
Just me again…
So, the light show you posted in the last three links? I have friends in Mesquite that went to one in the Dallas Fort Worth area. Apparently its an annual thing that they do in August/Septemberish. If I can get a hold of my friend Violet for the exact info, I’ll pass it on, if you’d like to actually go to one someday 🙂
I don’t like Bill Cosby type pudding but I like tapioca. (she says helpfully).
I would totally donate to the Committee. And then we would have a party at a drugstore where we would take all the douching products off the shelves and name them after all those horrible people. And then we’d feel guilty, because we really aren’t that asshole-y. Damn morals!
Did you ever get any money from those Printed Blog pinch pennies?
I thought you said the doctor had put you on a morphine based medicine for an *anus* infection. Made my day.
As a small child, while enjoying a bowl of tapioca, my grandmother informed me that the “pearls” in the pudding were in fact FISH EYEBALLS. Having been skeptical at first (and enjoying my treat) the bowl was already half gone by the time she’d really convinced me. *Would your MeMe make that up?*
I remember tapioca and Coolwhip trickling down my chin as I cried for the poor blind fishies and the horror of what I’d done.
Pudding. Ruined. Forever.
For me I think I would have to customize a shirt to say mister fuck it, as apposed to mister fix it, because I will fuck anything.
UP, I will fuck anything up, not I will fuck anything as in anybody. But fuck, as in anything up, I have that shit covered
My favorite weekend activity….your wrap-up!
Dude! You obviously have never been in possession of tapioca pudding, because if you have EVER seen it you’ll know it looks exactly like fish eyes and glue all mixed together. Like the way I imagine haggis looking/tasting. Don’t even think about eating tapioca. It’s nasty. And that’s why you’d need those egg containers. For all that extra.
ok how does one even GET morphine? bc i’d sign up for extra that, and put it into mini egg containers. i’d sign up for the extra pudding too come to think of it. in nyc you can go to rice to riches and order rice pudding to go. in to go containers. google that shit. it’s real.
Dream logic is a funny thing. As crazy as everything gets you never really question it because that’s how it is, but then you wake up and go, “Wait… What?”
I voted for you, so I want an honest Bloggie win. Unless you lose, in which case I’m happy to spread the lie that you won. Just let me know. (I’d also dearly love to win European blog next year so could you fake-win another category in 2012? Thx.)
morphine or not, you’re not funny… do you work hard at beng this crap?
You should post a list of shop names, i think that would be amazing and then when someone uses one, you get paid!!! 🙂
I had a dream where I was looking for a hospital, wandering around, couldn’t find it. I asked someone if they would call 911 for me. They said no, but let me use their phone and laughed at me and said “do you know the number?”
Never had anyone tell me a joke before while I was dreaming. That I know of.
Jen! I am just happy the you interviewed Sporticus. . . And I am excited that I owe you!! Sweet Dreams!!