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Last night I had a real headtrip of a dream. I was walking along a street in Glasgow when I saw Margo MacDonald run past. She is a former member of the Scottish National Party who left the organisation following claims of bullying by senior party members. As far as I know, she is standing as an independent candidate in tomorrow's elections to the Scottish Parliament.

As I saw it, there could be only two reasons that she was running:

1 - She had done something bad, and was running in order to escape the scene of the crime.

2 - Something very scary was coming after her, and she was running in order to escape being eaten by a large, ugly, possibly purple monster.

In either case, the prudent course of action seemed to be to run quickly in the same direction. So I did. I followed her into a restaurant. Nothing happened. I stood around until two guys in suits approached me and asked me to leave. I headed to Central Station to catch the train home. While I was waiting for the train I met a cute, dark haired English girl. I bought her a hot dog at a hot dog stand which does not exist in real life.

When I got home I decided to take a bath. I went upstairs to the bathroom and started running the hot tap. When I turned around I saw myself in the full length mirror fixed to the wall. As I moved closer to the mirror my reflection changed. It seemed to be getting older. When I stepped back away from it I saw the reflection revert to a younger version of myself, back to when I was a little kid with short hair.

This left me severely freaked out. I stepped right up to the mirror until I was almost touching it. My reflection appeared to be in its early 30s. My hair was longer and I had a beard. My clothes were worn and stained with coffee and pizza stains. I had become a walking hacker stereotype.

Then I woke to the smell of pure caffienated goodness.

I was leaving my mom, and armed with my camera I was ready to take pictures in a club. Jump from home to the city.

The lighting was warm inside and most of the colors are red, so I knew I had to push the film good. However, I can't read the film settings, and the batteries are shot! Nonetheless, I schmoozed with the people - most of them I know. Everybody looked like they're dressed in shades of red. I passed by Quinn Lemley, the Rita Hayworth impersonator - pretty nice woman, but I had more people to meet. I walked downstairs to meet Mary Cleere Haran, one of my favorite singers. I kissed her hello, but that wasn't enough. I kissed her on the lips, and they were inexplicably pink. I kissed her more.. and I tried to slip her the tongue, but I didn't. She turned away to make out with some other guy - a white guy, older than me. She was wearing a satin cream-colored gown, and the shine was cut through by the man's tuxedo as he wrapped his left arm around Mary. I knew I had to go. I didn't even take a picture.

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