I had a weird dream last night that was partially set in the Florida Panhandle. It involved two post-Katrina friends, the Typist and CR. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. Did I just call the Typist innocent? There’s a first time for everything…

The Typist was driving a MG midget with the top down. He picked me up to go to a party at CR’s house. I was excited because her husband is a restaurateur so I knew the food would be good. We arrived at a high-rise apartment building. I was puzzled, CR lives in a house. The Typist told me it was her Florida home. Whatever.

We spent some time on a balcony, never saw CR, and ended up in a bar. I couldn’t tell if we were in Pensacola or New Orleans, but I was bombarded with unsolicited advice about what to write next. Suddenly, I found myself cruising up Allen Toussaint Boulevard in New Orleans with the Typist. The end.

That last bit was the only part of the dream that made any sense. Allen Toussaint’s music is featured in this week’s Friday Cocktail Hour and Saturday Odds & Sods.

Let’s try and make some sense of this nonsensical but vivid dream:

CR and the Typist figured in the dream because the 17th Katrinaversary approaches.

The MG midget was inspired by my new favorite teevee show, Antiques Roadtrip as well as by memories of a high school friend’s car that I dubbed the Tightmobile.

I suspect the dream was inspired by a conversation Dr. A and I had about her friend Dr. F. Dr. F went to college with Ron DeSantis and informed Dr. A that she’d shared my Top Gov post with people she knew when. Neither Doctors A nor F were in the dream.

One more weird Florida dream note before I get to the weirder Florida politics part, this was its soundtrack:

That makes sense because of the Paul Simon Dozen. Also, CR loves Simon’s music. It’s unclear if the Typist loves MG midgets.

After all the Florida stuff in my dream, I sat down at the computer to read TPM’s Morning Memo. It’s how I start most days. Guess what? There were two weird Florida politics segments.

Since it’s Florida, we’ll slice them into segments like an orange. Try not to get any pulp or your computer or smart phone screen.

Good vs. Gaetz: COVID whistleblower and DeSantis dissident Rebekah Jones, hereinafter RJ, won the Democratic Congressional primary in the Florida-1. She will face off against the Pensacola Pervert DBA Matt Gaetz in the general election. Despite Gaetz Gate, RJ is expected to lose because that district is red, red, red.

I’m still excited by this matchup because it gives RJ a chance to troll both Gaetz and Florida’s Duce Wannabe. What’s not to love about that? Matt Shuham has the details at TPM.

One more thing. Here’s RJ’s opening shot at the Trumptastic twit she’s challenging.

I wish I’d come up with that. Good on ya, RJ. Good luck with the Gaetz and DeSantis bashing.

Sore Loser Loomer: I’d never heard of this nutter before so I’ll let TPM’s David Kurtz do my work for me:

The far-right, conspiracy-trafficking, anti-Muslim internet personality Laura Loomer lost to incumbent Rep. Dan Webster in the FL-11 this week, and it wasn’t even particularly close. Webster won 51-44. But Loomer, in fitting Trumpian fashion, is refusing to concede in increasingly unhinged ways.

 

Loomer declared Thursday in a rambling and vaguely threatening statement: “I actually am the Congresswoman in Florida’s 11th District, and everyone knows it.”

 

Loomer is alleging without basis all kinds of corruption and voter fraud that led to her defeat, she’s going “scorched earth” against Webster and the Republican Party, and she is excusing her loss with Big Lie style misdirection and misinformation.

That’s what the late Greg Peters of Suspect Device fame called “lazy quoting of better writers.” I trotted that out because Greg knew David Kurtz. He said that David was nothing like Kurtz in Heart Of Darkness. I was relieved to hear that.

I wonder if Laura Loomer knows her way around a loom? She’s clearly a member of the Loomatic fringe…

Florida, man.

When I was growing up in California, we held the title of the weirdest state in the nation. It came as a great relief when Florida grabbed the weirdo crown, ran off with it, then sank it in a swamp somewhere. Thanks, Florida.

The last word goes to Patty Griffin: