Ugh, crazy dreams! The first round, The first set I guess, could be described as being stuck in a Twisted Metal competition. Followed by being int he shoes of a Bart Simpson that died and ‘went to hell’ kind of like episode of the Simpsons. After that I woke up just a bit after 0830 local, so I went back to bed. Then imagine being trapped in a house with a bunch of whiny losers! Having to climb a chair, stick your head up in the attic, and climb up to search for supplies; convenient as some form of military sirmish outside resulting in everyone getting pumped full of holes over mistaken identity. After calling down “is everyone dead yet?”, as somehow expected it was only a moment until bodies started lifting themselves zombie-like off the floor and trying to climb up. You gotta hate it when the shotgun shells are replaced by bb’s!

Honestly, the only time my dreams worry me is if they make logical sense, instead of being strange and weird.