Dream a Little Dream

I had a dream the other night that I found this old home to renovate and flip.  Problem was it was haunted and so you had to get your work done during the day while the ghost was out.  Even more annoying, the ghost destroyed any furniture you left in the house overnight.  I was just finishing my bedroom in this lovely purple hue and invited my sister Patty over to check it out.  We had to hurry because the spook was coming back for the night.  Patty began berating me for my color choice, yelling about how hideous it was, etc. etc. etc.  I told her to calm down because as soon as I got rid of that ghost and could move in some furniture, that purple would rock!  I woke up soon after and told my mom about my vision, but she indicated she thought it might not have been a dream.

I pondered this and decided mom's right.    If people think I'm loud, opinionated, or tough, I ain't got nothing on Patty.  She used to work in the jail with my lover and could bring criminals of any persuasion to tears.  She once lectured a woman about her hygiene during a strip search and punctuated her point by flinging the panties under discussion into the trash.  She also was called on a code for a nonresponsive inmate right before she moved to Boise.  The scene when she arrived was chaotic with some deputies frozen with fear, others puking in disgust, and still others performing ineffective CPR.  Patty brushed them all aside, began barking orders, and took over chest compressions until the ambulance arrived.

I'm convinced my sis could crush your windpipe and your balls before you could even blink!  I've survived a few scrapes and can hold my own with no small amount of flair, but I would never wanna meet that bitch in a dark alley.  I secretly think she may be able to best my hubby, but only if he was forced to wear stilettos and eat a bean burrito through the match.  Seriously, she's tough!

The weirdest thing about Pat?  Her exterior:

Look at her.  She's lovely.  Plus, she's into girlie stuff like makeup and dresses.  She spent thirty minutes texting me recently about how poorly I care for my own exterior and tried bullying me into wearing makeup again.  I don't get it!  How can a spirit that is nearly perfect evil and destruction be contained by such flawless skin? 

To the common idiot, Patty is frightening, but like all arch villains, she can be killed, and I happen to know her secret Kryptonite.  What is it?  Moths.  That's right.  The winged insect that hovers near your porch light at night.  Patty called them "spastic buttholes" recently and she is TERRIFIED of them.  She can barely tolerate seeing one on the opposite side of the glass, let alone when one makes it into the house with her.  She might single handedly be able to fight a gang for turf with her bare hands, but a stupid moth will bring her to her knees!

Wait a second.  Now that I think about it, what do I have to be so afraid of?  That's it Patty, I'm not going to take your abuse lying down any longer!  I'm calling you out sista!  I'm leaving that bedroom purple and I'll get rid of that spook when I'm damn good and ready!  Just let me go catch a cage of moths before you read this post and come after my testicles...