Monday, 1 March 2004

Sweet Dreams and Heroin

Here's a point-in-case about how lame my dreams are. Last night, I dreamt that my sister was in town so we were going to go out for drinks. Before heading out, I discovered that I had the on-call phone and it wasn't my turn, so we were going to have to go to New West to drop it off first.

Yippee! Dangerous! Exciting! Never before seen on TV!

Now one of my co-workers dreamt last night that I suggested we shoot smack and go mountain biking. So up we went, all smacked up and on the hill. Then we were hanging out with a bunch of people, one of which was an undercover cop. Everyone knew he was an undercover cop except me. People were asking him 'are you an undercover cop?' and he'd say 'no, no.'. When he was walking away, I was so confident that I sparked up a jag. So he noticed the smell and came back apparently as I had a needle out. So, clever as I am, I stuck the needle behind my leg only to stick myself. At this point I handed the skag to my co-worker just in time for the undercover cop to catch him with the shit and arrest his sorry ass.

See *that* is a dream. Not the stupid "oh, this is what's going to happen in a few weeks" crap that I always get.

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