Last night I had some weird dreams. I think it was because I was hopped up on candy and soda (I know, I’m such a party animal these days). The only one I remember clearly was about me chasing down my brother’s dog Bitamus (a giant Great Dane) through my old neighborhood, because some people wanted to kill him? Capture him? I don’t know. Anyway, at some point I found out that Bitamus was actually a hologram or something, and was inside a laptop. So I had to protect the laptop. And then I meet the bad guy, right in my old front yard. He’s got a gun and is about to shoot me. At this point my neighbor, Joan, mother of my two earliest friends, Mark and Doug, walks slowly down her driveway, smoking a cigarette. She doesn’t seem to notice that I’m in dire straits, which is somewhat frustrating. I don’t know how, but I manage to get behind the bad guy, but I’m on the ground, and he’s standing over me with his back to my face. So I, not shitting you, grab the guy’s ankles and kick him in the taint as hard as I can, multiple times, while shouting at Joan to for the love of god call the police, and the guy starts shooting at me from behind (why he didn’t just shoot my leg or something, I’ll never know). And that’s when I wake up. At 3am, full of fighting energy.
So sue me if I slept in today.
