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| Musings |
| It was about this time that I knew I needed to wake up. So I went into the bathroom, made sure nobody was around and locked the door. I started my usually routine of mean faces in the mirror followed 10 minutes of strenuous shadow boxing to get the old blood pumping. I scored some serious hits but had to deduct several points from my score for some low blows. My shadow beat me in a split decision. |
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| Check out the authors of the reviews on this page. Return of the Wooden Indian returns! |
| I had this dream last night. I was huddled in the woods with some soldiers. It was night and very dark. We were on top of a hill overlooking some mansion. The North Vietnamese were all over the place patrolling the woods looking for us. Suddenly, we heard a noise and turned around as Curtis enters our small clearing in the trees. He whispered to me, and I take off down the hill. Once near the mansion, Cohen lets me inside and tells me where to go. He is betraying the people in the mansion. They think he is a friend. I head off through one well-lit room after another until I come to a long hallway. There�s a long glass coffee table down the center of the hall and people are sitting around on their asses eating and drinking. There also is live music coming from somewhere. Suddenly I hear footsteps approaching rapidly. They�re after me. Who they are, I do not know. However, I do know that I kick really well for some reason. Everyone is expecting me to kick him. I look down to the end of the hall, and their atop his toilet throne is Doug. To his immediate left is Nick. I know it�s now or never, so I sprint and jump into a flying kick. I soar down the hall, over the table and all the food. My foot is flying right toward Doug�s face. But before I connect and land my boot across his mug, I lose momentum and fall just a few feet short. I fall through the glass table and land right at his feet. That�s all I can remember. |