I can't help breaking radio silence for this one.

last night, zombies attacked my country home. I fled their incursion into my living room and kitchen through the windows by heading up a long, winding staircase and onto a large veranda. I escaped by leaping onto the canvas top of a passing jeep just in time to catch a dinner date with a friend of mine. in the dream, my friend was my older brother and our parents were Don and Joyce Wrigley from The Adventures of Pete & Pete.

After the appetizer, Dad decided he'd have a crack at fixing the large radio antenna in our back yard. During the repairs, the antenna was struck by a bolt of bad CGI lightning, sucking him headfirst and screaming into the aerial while I documented the scene by taking digital photos with a BBQ lighter.

It became clear to me (somehow) that wherever Dad had gone, he had been tangled in the swimming pool's vacuum hose, and the hose was slowly disappearing through a gap in our backyard fence. I dove into the pool and swam the length to the end, where I could grab the hose. Drawing myself up and onto the opposite side, I briefly stopped and thought, "Why is it always so difficult to move through the water in our dreams?"

I must have tied the hose to something to secure it, because I was called back to finish dinner. The waiter asked if I would be wanting to order from the menu, and I explained to him that no, I would be fine with my fish filet and bloody mary, and that I wouldn't be able to stay long anyway, because I had to save my father.


It seems that a lifetime of Nickelodeon and science fiction has left me deranged.