was I visited by Mr. Funny in my sleep?

The other day I woke up with the phrase

"Hors d'oeuvres: tweets from the chef!"

repeating in my mind in a
we're-all-happy-aren't-we-kids
I'm wearing suspenders and some sort of plaid
desperately cheerful rollercoastery
sort of voice. There might even have
been a little soft shoe involved.

It was quite confusing.

I miss you, chicken lady.

I heated water on the stove instead

OR why I murder bugs
please note: this device is not plugged in