I dream....
I dream of my beer while I sit through the unbearable stack of papers at work. I dream of
an ice cold Icehouse beer. I dream of eating a pizza with that beer and frolicking through
some meadow with an old girlfriend, or with my bosses wife, wait he’s divorced.
I dream of taking a sledgehammer to work and destroying every damn computer that they
tell us to “just reboot” while at the same time executing the center manager and all the
girls who turned me down.
I dream of telling my parents that I smoke a pound of marijuana every week and that I
sleep with at least 13 girls a week and that I shot heroin at least 5 times a day.
I dream of kicking my brother 1 million times in the ass. Then 1 million times in the face.
And finally 1 million times in his balls. (if any)
I dream of killing the following bands and musicians: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Brittany
Spears, Christina Aguilera, Garth Brooks, 3 Doors Down, Eminem, Dr Dre and a bunch
of other evil music people that make crappy music.
I dream of riding the bomb, while it falls with an unbelievable force towards the President
of China. (Yeee-haaa) I dream of stealing a car from Jeff Gordon and taking it for a joy
ride in down town Atlanta. I dream of breaking in to the locker room of the Pittsburgh
Pirates and threatening them with an AK-47 to play better damit.
Finally I dream of going back to the woods and killing Bambi, since I already killed and
ate his mom for lunch. I dream of killing some endangered spices out there that the
environmental groups would get pissed about.