(Untitled)

[sangtheghost]

Last night I dreamed that I was working at the Holiday Inn. I was behind the counter, in uniform, and I noticed that the event for the night was my graduating class's one year reunion. So I got kind of excited, like, "Oh, I'm gonna get to see people again!" And then all my friends from high school began filing in. I said hi, but everyone just

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[mybrokenlocket]

I read the first sentence of this entry, and I was thinking, "Whoa, there... this sounds pretty crazy... you really shouldn't do drugs before bed."

Kind of like that time when I went to gym class and saw one of my girlfriends and said "Becky! Oh my God, I had this dream last night that we came to gym class this morning and we walked around the track and talked about boys! By the way..." Yeah.

Oh, and brain surgeons aren't good dream interpreters anyways. They just want to crack open your skull and poke around in there.

[sangtheghost]

Yeah, the brain surgeons might make the dreams spill out.

That's the term George, the greatest delivery driver of all time, uses to describe us at Papa Gino's. "Which one of you brain surgeons put this take out in a delivery bag?"

[mybrokenlocket]

I bet you earn that designation every day.

[sangtheghost]

I don't even need to go to med school now.

[__formyeyesonly]

I would say hi to you!

[sangtheghost]

And I'd say hi to you. And then we could go on a mosquito safari in Red Thunder.