So one mellow evening my friend Ross was sitting out on the porch of the house he shares with a number of my friends. He was talking with his roommate Erin as she smoked, and she was lining up those spent little Camel filters in a row on the railing like suicides poised to jump. She started flicking them off, one by one, onto the front lawn. As she did so, Ross (ever the humorist) started creating high-pitched little soundbytes for each one. The one that stuck in my mind, and the minds of everyone else who spends time at the Temple of Shub-Niggurath, was "I commit myself to the soft grass belooooowwww..." as the little cigarette filter plunged to earth.

This must be a particularly pervasive meme. While most Bellinghamsters are particularly susceptible to this sort of soundbyte-meme anyway, this one has become a favorite. It's gotten to the point where it figured heavily into a strange dream I had:

I was in a large mansion that belonged to a crime lord of some sort, and the BATF had planted a bomb, which was about to go off. I had to get out of the house before the bomb exploded, so I ran out the back door and dove into the lake behind the house. After swimming along underwater for a few seconds, I realized that this close to the explosion, the hydrostatic shock might kill me. So I rooted around the lake bottom for a moment until I found a maintenance tunnel, of all things.

I opened it up and went through, entering a tunnel that took me back into the house. Great. Back at square one. This time, I chose doors more wisely, and ran out the front door, across the front lawn and into some woods. Just as I hurled myself behind a fallen log, the bomb went off and little bits of masonry pelted the ground around me. Miraculously unscathed, I poked my head back up and surveyed the damage. The house was by and large still standing, but it was making ominous creaking noises that suggested it might fall at any moment. There was one section of the house that bore a remarkable resemblance to a gigantic curio cabinet. As it turned out, to my suprise, it was a curio cabinet. The door of the cabinet swung aside, and this is where things got really odd.

Inside the house-sized curio cabinent were about ten shelves, each of which held several ornaments, toys and statuettes. On the top shelf was a four-foot-high statue of the Virgin Mary. The statue came to life, walked to the edge of the shelf, and in a voice remarkably like the high-pitched one Ross used for the falling cigarette butts, proclaimed "I commit myself to the soft grass belooooowwww!" as she fell three stories onto the front lawn of the mansion. The curio cabinet teetered dangerously behind her prostrate form, and the items on its shelves began to fall around her. Finally the cabinet creaked forward and came crashing down on top of the whole mess.

With that, I woke up.

My brain is weird.