Wednesday, January 25, 2006


I had kind of a weird dream. It was actually a feel good dream, I think what made it good was that it was completely illogical and fantastic. It was the middle of the night and I was coasting on a bike down Foothill Blvd. with my stomach on the seat and hands on the handlebars, as if I was Superman, but on a bike and no cape. I also had a stack of books with me for some reason, but they must have been balanced on one of my legs because my hands were tied. Anyway I was heading home when a pack of cyclists pass me, all women in usual cycling get up. They turn down the street, and what do you know, they're headed to my house. Don't worry this isn't turning pornographic, my alarm clock woke me up before that happened. I arrive right after they all do and they're running around drinking water from my hose and tidying up my yard. They don't really notice me, I guess the riders are in a hurry, maybe they're in the middle of a race. At this point I probably paused to comprehend things then look around again but they were gone, vanished like fairies. Nothing left but three beat up Winnebagos parked in front of my house. I though maybe they went in there, but that can't be cause that where the gypsies live.

So while I was showering I was thinking about how that can be, surely someone would have woken up with all those bike shoes clicking on the cement. And it was the middle of the night, how can they not be cold? And what are we all doing riding in the middle of the night? Where was I riding from?

Maybe I ate something weird, but all I had for dinner was steamed crabs. Maybe the crabs ate something weird.

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