More Dreams/Letter 25

I know that I said I don't remember my dreams very often, and that is true. But the dreams I have mentioned here lately have all been real. The one in the current letter was one of my favorite, mostly because it was so inexplicable. And though the discription of the dream is breif the dream itself seemed to last forever.

Letter 25:

Dear [adult swim],

Last night I had another very weird dream. I dreamed that I was part of a band of rebels fighting against an oppressive regime which had been over run by a sect of hyper-motivated fascists threatening apocalypse. And my job was to drive around the country in my Chevette, a car which I've never owned, and to assemble giant entertainment centers, desks and bookshelves, as much as four or five times their normal size, out in the middle of nowhere. I'm not sure how this aided in the resistance, but I know it was an important job, and I was constantly in danger of being caught.

When I awoke from that dream I thought of this horrible pick-up line:

Baby, if you were mine I'd erect a tower in your honor.
A flesh tower.
I have a life sized model in my pants, if you're interested.

It's not exactly a pick-up line. It's a pick-up three lines. So the speaker will have to do some entertaining to keep the lady listening. I don't know. I was never good at that kind of thing.

When I was in the shower I thought that Quagmire, from the Family Guy, might say it this way:

Baby, if you were mine I'd erect a tower in your honor. And by honor I mean vagina.

Michael
March 19, 2007