Bummed on Crack

Like humans, dogs too dream. Often my dreams are affected by the things I've seen and done earlier in the day. Last night was no exception.

Earlier in the day I'd had to have a plumber come out and repair a leaky faucet in my bathroom. Like all plumbers, this one was clothing challenged as evidenced by a hairy butt crack. I had been thirsty and was going to drink from the toilet until I saw the plumber’s derriere. I tipped him an extra $25 and told him to buy some Velcro to keep his pants in place.

Then later that evening, T.T. called me from the airport to say goodnight. He always does that when he flies out of town and can't take me along with him. He was waiting at the gate for the flight crew to arrive so they could board the plane. While talking, he noticed a young woman bend to sit down. Her jeans were very low cut and T.T. remarked that he could see quite a large chunk of her butt crack. T.T. then remarked that that was her better side, as her face looked like a mule sucking on persimmons - which is T.T.'s way of saying the young lady should not be trying out for America's Next Top Model.

All of this combined to affect my dreams last night. In my dream, I was flying. Snoopy, another, though slightly less famous, beagle of Peanuts fame was my wingman. We were flying high near the clouds looking for that cursed Red Baron when Snoopy catches my attention. Pointing with his left ear, Snoopy indicated an object flying much lower beneath us. I nodded and we banked to intercept the bogey. Upon drawing near, I realized that it wasn't the Red Baron we were stalking, but a flying T.T. Maybe flying is an exaggeration...he was mostly floating and bouncing from treetop to treetop.

When he noticed us, T.T. waved and indicated he wanted to fly along with us. I was afraid we'd stall out as we couldn't fly that slowly, but T.T. managed to push off from a tree limb and began to swim through the air. It was funny to watch T.T. doing breast strokes. When he would get tired, he'd slowly float down to the earth, catch his breath, and bounce back into the air with us. Watching him fly was like watching a bumblebee. With T.T.'s big gut and flat ah...butt it should have been impossible for him to fly, but dreams often defy the impossible.

After awhile T.T. challenged us to a race. He shoved off from a rooftop and began swimming as fast as he could. It was at that point that I noticed how the wind was pushing his pants back over his rear. Another butt crack!

It's a dream, and anything is possible in a dream, so I dreamed that I pulled a credit card from a wallet I don't have and from a place that doesn't have pockets, and I swiped it down T.T.'s crack. Snoopy cracked up when he saw me do this, so then he pulls out a quarter and drops it in the crack. Not to be outdone, I reach into the front seat of Snoopy's plane and produce a putty knife and a can of putty and proceeded to caulk T.T.'s butt crack. Whether it was the shock of the swipe or the weight of the putty, T.T. lost his equilibrium and dropped like a bomb, plowing a furrow through a freshly-tilled Nebraska corn field.

I awoke at that point, images of hairy butts haunting my waking moments resulting in a not-so-slight headache. I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at T.T. again without thinking about his butt crack. Some people get high on crack; I don't see the attraction.