Dreams will be the death of me.
[Ed.: NS for anywhere that does not dispense Thorazine and straight jackets.]
So I am crawling into a bed somewhere. Someone is already there. It’s Ruth from back in college. Big tits, big mouth. Hasn’t aged a day. Why is SHE here? I don’t really care, because: topless. Boobs in dreams are the best. But sweet alabaster-skinned Jesus, this is about to get, uh, strange.
No, BAD strange.