I subscribe to the school of thought that says dream sequences can and should almost always be cut from novels and movies. Save that shit for your therapist, you know? Dreams work a little better in sitcoms, usually because they’re an excuse to act out a New Gidget version of A Christmas Carol or some such wackiness. I’m pretty sure dreams are not meant to be recounted in blogs either, but man, I’ve had some weird ones lately, so here’s a quick executive summary:
1. I was attacked by a puppy that looked like a cartoon sheep. Its mother was waiting in the wings, ready to get all mama-bear on me. AK rescued me from its scary-looking puppy talons.
2. I was babysitting Jamie and Lee-Roy’s baby, Kohana. We had a great day on the town; she laughed at all my jokes. But on the drive home I realized we had no car seat—Kohana was just sitting in my lap—and I was like, “Aaah! I’m Britney Spears!”
3. I was ordering some potato skins at some sort of food court and the checker suspected me of credit card fraud. The girl behind me started dancing around saying how horny she was, how she needed a man.
Maybe the message here is that I should email my senators and ask them to pass the Dream Act? Or have potato skins for lunch?