So, I was in the back of this bus, and some strange man kept throwing Burger King napkins at me flirting like a 6th grader.

Then, I was transported to a swanky 70's yet late 90's viper room type lounge sitting next to Owen Wilson and some strange man who was even more sleazier looking in tight leather pants than Owen was, and they were trying to convince me to let them mine my backyard for diamonds (the symbolic correspondances even disturbed me in my dream), and I didn't want them to, but they were going to do it tomorrow anyhow.

Then they toasted with their very uppity champagne glasses and drank it down and laughed like clowns.

Owen Wilson's nose still looked as messed up as it normally did before.

Then I woke up moaning in pain, my favorite red sleeping tank top with orange trashy edges was covered in grody salt water, and I am certain I am either dying or getting the flu for sure. Maybe this dream was better than the last dream I had where I was a mermaid that Rush Limbaugh was trying to rape. I'm not sure how he could hold his breath underwater for that long, but he could swim a long time! Maybe it was all of the Oxycontin. But those underwater lesbians who saved me were cool. Plus they found my engagement ring that got lost in the shuffle with Rush in the underwater pursuit. Ug. What is wrong with my brain?

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