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I fell asleep this afternoon and I dreamed this:

I was in a supermarket, the kind that used to be around when I was little, where the supermarket itself was connected to a department store and you can take your cart full of clothes and sneakers and toys and proceed right into the frozen food section. There was a security guard stationed between the two parts of the store, and he checked your bags before you went from one to the other.

In the dream the security guard was looking into my bags of canned beans and personal hygiene products. He told me two things. One, that I should buy some extra clothing and two, that I should call my doctor and have them increase the doseage of my Paxil.

He said I would be nervous in the coming days. His exact words were "not nervous like wedding nervous, not even nervous as when you approach a big test. I mean nervous as in....scared."

I already am scared, I told him.

You don't know what fear is, he said.

He then stapled my receipt to one of the paper bags and waved me off.

Have a pleasant day, he said. And he laughed.

And I laughed.

That weird kind of laugh, you know?


You must be absorbing the vibes Pres. Bush is giving to Saddam. Like a giant bomb is gonna come down on his head if he doesn't pull his exec jet onto his runway and get into it real soon. You must be resonating with it like a tuning fork. You must have honed into that wavelength somehow. Well, don't worry about it, Michele. Pres. Bush has been incredibly gracious and has given that bozo plenty of time to put his private jet on the runway ready to go. Sadly, it looks like Saddam came to believe his own pr hype and believes he has magical powers.

That's odd. I had a wierd dream about a new reality tv show, where people thought they were traveling on a train, but it was really a stage coach/semi-truck combo, made to look like a train. And the announcer said "Our guests THINK they're riding on a train, but we have secretly switched them onto our combo car" or something like that...but it was the same was as those old adds for folgers crystals or something like that. And it was all funny, until people started dying...

I just attributed it to all the meat I ate yesterday!

Ok, you people have dreams that are just too fucking contemporary and note-worthy...

I had a dream last night where i was discussing the relative merits of drafting Jim Kelly and Dan Marino in the '83 draft, and whether the Superbowl appearances of one offsetted the league records posted by the other.

Personally, I always liked Jim Kelly. The big flashing talking sink in the corner of my room i was talking to wasn't convinced. You can never dissuade those darn dolphins fans, especially the enamel ones.

Darn, I really need to quit with the hallucinogens already, bub...

Michele, I already told you my dream last night... ya know, "plastic"!