Delusions of guppiness…

A little more than groggy, but not quite bitchy;

A little more than drowsy, but not quite somnolent;

Verbal, but P.C. filter on override.

Yep… joeguppy is just out of it.

 

For all intents and purposes, I have let go of sleep, but sleep has not quite let go of me.  As such, real-life events become the inspiration for my brain to take leaps and bounds of dream-like inspiration in a split-second.  Welcome to the surreal world that is the guppyman’s overactive brain!

 

First thing this morning, my husband forwarded an email to me, adding a two-word commentary of his own at the top simply stating, “Any thoughts?”  “Yes.” I confidently concluded upon reading these words.  “I think that Glenn Close was absolutely robbed of the Oscar for her role in Dangerous Liaisons.”  Yet, I do not believe that this was actually what my husband meant… so I asked for further detail.

 

Long story short, Paul was asked to be a speaker at a church.  One of the local churches is having a somewhat difficult time over the whole issue of gay marriage.  They are having a panel on human sexuality this weekend, already have a conservative speaker (quel surprise!), and wanted a mature, rational, and educated speaker for the other side.  Frankly, Paul is the single best choice.  Yet, upon gleaning this information from the email, my brain once again sped forward in a way that makes sense onto to the guppy.  “How so?” you ask.  Picture a courtroom, with the guppyman in the witness box…

 

“Yes, your Honor.  I am here to testify on behalf of Paul Cook-Giles. 

 

Yes, your Honor, he is my partn… I mean husbea… I mean husBAND.  Sorry… trying to get used to the correc…

NO! your Honor.  I have NEVER known him to commit an act of violence previous to this alleged accusation.  In fact, he is usually a very gentl…

No, your Honor, it is extremely out of character for him to become so flustered by a conservative speaker as to break a chair, throw over a table, and bitschlapp the other speaker until seven men dragged him away.  In fact, he…

No, your Honor, I cannot even imagine him saying, “Die you pomposterous Swaggart-wannabe, DIE!”

Yes, Your Honor.  That is a photo of us from a couple of weekends ago.

No, your Honor.  I do not consider dressing in 16^th century Elizabethan to be the same as dressing in drag for the weekend.

No, your Honor.  The only man I know who wears makeup on the weekend is our former King.  But, that really is another…

Yes, your Honor.  I know this all sounds a bit weird but…”

 

Well… you get the point.