okay, so i just woke up to an unpleasant realization:
it's a bad sign when your dreams involve selling biker acid at DEF CON to Donald Sutherland, who is an FBI agent, being taken to Nellis AFB for debriefing, escaping, and bursting into the keynote address at DEF CON stumbling to the podium and announcing that strawberry ice cream is what the aliens are really after.
sorry for the punctuation up there. anyway.
so apparently my subconcious is firmly stuck in 1994 and i can't even manage to dream about getting laid. lame.
it's a bad sign when your dreams involve selling biker acid at DEF CON to Donald Sutherland, who is an FBI agent, being taken to Nellis AFB for debriefing, escaping, and bursting into the keynote address at DEF CON stumbling to the podium and announcing that strawberry ice cream is what the aliens are really after.
sorry for the punctuation up there. anyway.
so apparently my subconcious is firmly stuck in 1994 and i can't even manage to dream about getting laid. lame.
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but seriously, your dreams approach and sometimes overshoot the weirdness of my own. that makes me feel a little better in some odd way. kudos and stuff. heh.