This is getting out of hand

So I had another dream about our President. Oh, hey there Barack...

In this dream I was helping the Obamas pick out bathing suits. He and Michelle were looking at matching swimsuits (the pattern on his board shorts matched the pattern on her elegant one piece). 

BHO was worried that his shorts "looked like hammer pants."

I said, "Well, they kind of do...but in the best way possible."

BHO wondered, "Is there a good way for my shorts to resemble hammer pants?"

Then Michelle, Barack, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Then I woke up.

I am considering changing the title of this blog to "Transcripts of weird dreams about the Obama family".

Get out of my dream...and into my car

I had another dream about my favorite president, BHO.

In this dream, my father (my actual dad, not Obama) had been accused of a crime he did not commit. And I think I was still in high school? Maybe? This part is a little fuzzy. Anyway, my dad was falsely accused of some heinous crime that I believe involved stealing gasoline, a car chase, and someone running over a police officer. Anyway, I was just APPALLED at the idea of going to school the next day, because everyone would think my dad was guilty, and I had more important things to do, like clearing his name. This was obviously a busy and stressful day, so when I finally had time to check my phone, I had three missed calls. Two were from Barack Obama, and one was from Jeff Goldblum. In this universe, this was totally normal because I was not phased at all to have these people in my missed calls. I knew BHO would help clear my father's name, so I immediately attempted to call him back. Unfortunately, I accidently dialed Jeff Goldblum's number. He answered right away and informed me that he had called because the studio was releasing a special edition dvd of Jurassic Park and they wanted the stars to do a commentary track (Apparently, in this universe, I had also starred in Jurassic Park, which is totally awesome and in my top ten movies of all time.). I was like, "Great, Jeff Goldblum, I'm kind of busy right now," but he just kept blabbing on. It was like, come on, Jeff Goldblum, mechanical dinosaurs ARE awesome, but I have to call back the leader of the free world, and save my dad...

I woke up before I could call back Obama, so I guess I'll never know if my dad went down for a crime he didn't commit.

Dreams of my (fake) father

Last night I dreamed that I was the oldest Obama daughter.

Obama was totally a Harrison-Ford-in-Air-Force-One-badass president and we were riding in a jeep to some do some top secret (most likely badass) mission.

Because it was so top secret, we couldn't have any secret service with us, so Barack had to infiltrate the enemy head quarters solo while I distracted the evil government officials from Some-Other-Country-istan.

But because my father, Barack Obama, did not want me to be unsafe, I did all my secret agent-ing from the back of a highly trained, extremely effective security elephant.

Sadly, I woke up before I found out if our mission had been a successful one.

Reason #9,642 not to wear clogs

When I got back from class today, I could not find my phone anywhere. After panicked-ly ransacking my room and swearing a great deal, I found my phone.

It was inside of my clog that had been in the same pocket of my backpack as my phone.

Now my phone smells like foot.

Don't let the patriarchy get you down!

This is adorable.

I may have slightly teared up when I watched it.