Daydreams About Night Things All Afternoon

Daydreams About Night Things All Afternoon

Once upon a time in a huge metropolis called Danville, Va. there was a farm owned by Farmer Green. Actually, that was his nickname because it was the color of just about every crop he raised. On that farm there was everything you’d expect to see on one. There was a huge orchard, almost ¾ of an acre in diameter where he grew every kind of crop imaginable. Yet the most impressive thing about his farm was all the animals who lived on it. Each one had their own special thing they did which contributed to Farmer Brown’s welfare in their own special way. His children were all grown up and moved out and his wife had parkinsin's disease which she had recently acquired so she was no help to him. Farmer Brown dreamed of the day when his grandchildren would become old enough to help him with his chores, but the oldest one was just 4 years-old at the time. It seemed like Farmer Brown had it made with a simple lifestyle which he loved.

Then came the day when everything went haywire. It started early in the morning when his rooster woke him up. He couldn’t afford an alarm clock so that was what got him up each morning when the sun appeared over the horizon to wake up each animal and person there.

Yet on that day something odd happened. The rooster was crowing, but he was singing a new song the poor, startled farmer had never heard in his life. It also had a literal melody. When he went outside to hear it, the darn thing was actually singing a song in English to the tune of Happy Birthday To You. It was singing, “Good morning to you! I hope you’re not blue! This song is quite silly, but now it is, done? No! That’s not right! Sorry, Mr. Green! Well I see you’re wearing jeans! If my singing makes you green with envy, I will just call you, 'Mr. Green Jeans!' You can punch me if you like because it’s, ‘a punch-lin!’ Pardon the punch, I mean pun! Excuse me if my sense of humor is, ‘the deep-end,’ (over your head). I’m on a role! Call me, ‘Butter!’ By the way, you had, ‘butter’ get those chicken’s eggs before they will, ‘chick-in’ to a hotell! That is, ‘egg’-zactly what they’ll do! Don’t let it, ‘scramble’ your brains too much sitting on your front, ‘poach’ each morning to get your, ‘sunny-side-up!’ That’s, ‘egg’-zactly what you need! Now, ‘white’ this down, don’t be, ‘shell’-fish, or the, ‘yoke’ will be on you! Your son, Lester's flat broke, but you can’t call him, ‘Lester, ‘Flatt,’ since he’s always picking his banjo, but if you want something to a toothpick, you’re out of luck because he just, ‘picks’ his banjo with Dina since she’s in the kitchen, you know, with someone strumming on the old banjo. Neither of them know any words so they just sing, ‘Fee-fie-fiddley-eye-oh,’ strumming on the old banjo. They do that during their breaks from working on the railroad all the live-long day to pass the time away. You don’t need an alarm clock since that whistle blowing will wake you up. If that doesn’t do it, the captain will do it while yelling, “Rise up so early in the morn!’ Then that grumpy, old captain will be shouting, ‘Dinah! Blow your horn!’ It’s an important job since it’s not fake, it’s actually a, ‘rail’-road.' Still, working is a hard way to make a living, unless you want to marry somebody who’s rich, if you want to marry for money, which is not cool, but the name Merry, like my best Friend’s mom’s name means Pure. Regardless, I’d rather, 'guard' the whole guardian from critters who will steal all those veggies, they’ll always try to, 'rab-it' without paying a cent for them, which really stinks, that’s the, 'scents' I’m talking about, although some of those farmers don’t have a lick of, 'scents' because they just use dollars, but those who’s job it is to make dolls can really make, “ ‘doll’-ers’ by selling them for a prophet because it’s always great to have a, “prophet” around to prophesise which is better than paying a medium to look into her crystal ball since they’ll usually tell you to go have a 'ball,' so long as the temperature is set on, 'medium' heat. You can have a ball, especially if your name is Cinderella. Just remember to drop your slipper so the prince can find it, which means he’d have to look for your foot, 'prints' in the dirt. He would more than likely start off by calling a, ‘toe’-truck to pick her up, that is if she’s down. If that’s the case, we’d have to get, 'down' from a, 'duck,' which is what he would do when the peasants throw things at him, thinking he was just a peasant with his magnifying glass, if the villagers didn’t mistake him for some, ‘pezzant’-under-glass” if the prince is a baseball fan cause if that’s the case, he’d be interested in how fast his girl would, 'run,' but if she could really fly in bear-feet, that would really, 'bug' him, especially since he would prefer the person he married to not have, 'bear-fee,' rather people feet, since that would really be quite a, 'feet' to see somebody like that, since in that case, somebody would have to pick her up in a, ‘toe’- truck. That might really cause, 'the agony of, ‘de-feet’ to happen pre-'maturely' if that occurs when the person in under 12 years-old and considered a minor, but if he works in a place which drills for gold or oil and gets lucky, he would, 'strike' it rich as easy as, 'striking' a, 'match' if he can find a couple of things which look alike, although some, 'miners' can become quite wealthy if they strike it rich when they uncover gold. If the old girl named Lady-Luck is shining on him at that point in time, she will let him find some gold ore, although some people just want, 'gold or' nothing. Some people just have to make money the old-fashioned way, that’s earn it, although if they must, “urn” it all in a Grecian urn by a man named Benny who met up with a geni who said he could marry a girl if he didn’t shave off his beard because if he did that, he’d be turned into a Greesian urn. Yet the girl he married didn’t like his beard because it tickled her face when they kissed so she said if he didn’t shave it off, she’d leave him. Forgetting about the deal, Benny shaved off his bird and was instantly turned into a Grecian urn. That just goes to show, “a Benny shaved is a Benny, ‘urned.’ ”

He had other dreams as well. Like Joseph in the Bible, his dreams really meant something, like Ferroe's dreams did to him. The problem with dreaming is at some point the dreamer will wake up, and if it’s a girl, she’ll want makeup. God allows us to have dreams to keep our brain muscles strong, even when we sleep. At any rate, the next night he had another dream, only it was about some black horse. You could call that a, “night-mare.” Some authors and poets get their inspirations from a certain kind of experience that happened while the person was asleep.

The next morning when Farmer Green woke up, he quickly wrote down what had happened in his dream then later he added some more of his own thoughts and ended up writing a national best-seller. In retrospect, you could say he got paid for sleeping. Although the night after that he had a bad dream about riding his horse, but it turned into an elephant. Then the herd that was behind him got spooked by some kind of spaceship which landed in his orchard which caused a stampede which leveled his guardian and crushed all of his animals. That caused him to let out a really deep, long whale of despair, although no sooner had he done that when 4 giant killer whales came up close to his farm and rolled their tremendous bodies across the beach and onto the tremendous orchard which he’d worked for several years to get straight. That would have caused him to wail even louder, but there was no point because the wails had already destroyed the entire farm that he’d worked most of his life to reach that point. His daddy had originally started working on it after he had inherited that property from his rich uncle who had passed away and had no other relatives to inherit his immense fortune to, other than him. Yet now it was ground into pulp by that humongous herd of stampeding pachyderms which had just leveled his entire inheritance. Now he had nothing to show for all the months-worth of work he had put into getting it to the point where it could be made into the awesome farmland it was when his rich uncle was in charge of it, although he had his wife, 4 suns and 3 daughters to help raise it up to be the best it could be, even though most of the machines and tools he worked on were solar-powered, run by his boys when they got to be old enough to help him with his chores. In other words, he used the, “sons,” that he, “raysed” along with all the, “sun-rays” from his mamma who got him started into using all-natural things such as drawing water from the well. That was made easier by his daughter who was an artist, so she was an expert when it came to, “drawing water” to help the whole family stay, “well,” since that was a really, “deep” subject for such a, “shallow mind,” which was how most of his children turned out, although they, “turned out” the lights which put their parents in the Dark Lady Shair sang about in her song. Actually, nobody knows why she got that name since she was really pretty selfish and wouldn’t, “Share” her things with anybody else, even when the days had always been quite, “Sunny.”

Then tragedy struck. They had no rain from May all the way through August, which is the time of year it’s needed most. Some people said it was inevitable because of his last name, since that was the color of all his crops. Because they didn’t grow, his brother did the grass which was what some of the animals counted on for their food. All of his chickens had to go, “chick-in” to a hotel somewhere else where they were sure to get fed and would be quite scared because after all, they weren’t called a, "chicken” for nothing. The hens wouldn’t even lay eggs since they were afraid of their brains getting, “scrambled” while sitting on the front, “poach” because things definitely did not come, “over-easy” which made it really difficult to keep their, "sunny-side-up and keep their dirty side down" like the c. b. truckers would say. Farmer Brown was so upset he wanted to beat somebody who didn’t have a, “beet” to the music. That was the worst drobt in all of redemptive history, that's even though, “history” was exactly what the whole farm would be unless they got some rain in the immediate future. That was a farmer’s worst nightmare, to have his crops shrivel up and have his animals die from dehydration. Things were really looking bleak for Farmer Brown and his farm, including his animals

As he went to feed the horses, they frowned at him as he got closer holding their food in the tremendous bucket.

By then the daddy pig, named Oscar, or as some people would call him, “Mr. Myor,” was mad since nobody could, “bring home the bacon.” He kept telling Farmer Brown, “If you don’t feed me better, so help me, you’ll end up being sewed! In other words, ‘seweyed!’ I’m not just trying to, ‘ham’ it up either! All of you farmers are a bunch of, ‘male chauvinist people!’ So you’d better just, ‘pork’ it right there! Nobody likes to hear us when we’re grunting, ‘sow’ loudly! We'll. 'poke' you like the Braves, 'chop!' "

The goats were especially grumpy. They told Farmer Brown, “Not getting fed on time really does, ‘get my person!’ That’s a, ‘ba-a-a-a-a-ad' way to make friends!”

Farmer Brown said with his hands up, “I’m sorry, you guys, things are really tough all over the place! But, but,....”

“Huh!” snorted the goat, “I’ll give you a, ‘butt-butt!’ Now, you’re a, ‘ba-a-a-ad ’pain-in-the-neck!” Then he came charging at Farmer Brown with his head pointed down towards the ground and snorting all the way as he came charging at him with mall thoughts on his mind.

Fortunately for Farmer Brown, he was right close to the fence which meant he could jump over it. Meanwhile, the goat, who was still charging at him full-speed, crashed into the fence, getting his horns stuck in the big beams. He let out a wrath of obscenities, only in goat-language which no other animal could understand, which was lucky for Farmer Brown and his verjin ears. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the goat continued to cuss, so he finally sneaked away, leaving the grumpy animal there by himself.

Yet Farmer Brown was trying his best to feed all the animals in turn. Yet he already had a hand full of vegetables he’d just picked and was on his way to put them down then go feed the goat, except he said, “Please don’t get mad at me! I try to feed all of you guys, but, but,”

“Ha!” snorted the goat, “i’ll give you a, ‘butt-butt! Now you’re a, ‘ba-a-a-a-ad’ little pain-in-the-neck!” Then he came charging at Farmer Brown with his head pointed down towards the ground and snorting all the way as he came running. It was obvious he had mal intentions on his mind for the poor farmer who was trying so hard to please all the animals.

Luckily the farmer happened to be right near the edge of the fence at the time so he jumped over it. That meant the charging goat, who had his head pointed down to the ground, couldn’t see where he was going and smashed into the hard board fence, getting his horns stuck in the wooden beams which held it in place. That caused his horns to get stuck in the boards so he couldn’t get out. That made him commence to cussing in goat-language. Fortunately for Farmer Brown, he didn’t speak any foreign languages other than French, Spanish and German. He wasn’t bylingwall enough to understand what that grumpy animal was trying to tell him, but judging from his tone of voice, it wasn’t exactly, “Thank you for everything!”

When Farmer Brown was through with his ordealish experience, he was beet, and hadn’t gotten to take care of the beets or any other crops. He felt like he'd worked behind a used car lot, meaning he was, “exhausted.” He struggled to get on his plow to work in his guardian, all of a sudden the most amazing thing happened which would eliminate all of the problems he’d had that day with those hard-to-please animals he had. As he reached back to pull his chair up closer so he wouldn’t have to go so much as an inch further, he woke up! It was all a crazy dream. As he hopped on his horse to take a ride around the field, suddenly it hit him. (An idea, not the field). He had been riding on his, “night mare.” His, "punny" dream was over.

The end.

By, Cuz Roye.