The writer's strike has finally started to effect me. Last night I had a dream about, of all people, Johnny Carson. We were sitting at a lunch counter, having a burger, trading industry jabs, when the subject finally came around to money; who has it, who doesn't. I said to Johnny, "so with all your millions, people must constantly be harassing you about money." Johnny looked down, smiled, shook his head no, never. And I thought, should my company ever go public and we make a killing on the IPO, then my friends and family wouldn't ask me for money either, they'd DEMAND it. Lot's of it.
We attempted to determine the exact cause, meaning, and purpose of every single scene that played out in this dream but doing so led us down some very convoluted reasoning that had us trying to include Rev. Martin Luther King, father, Bush's tax rebates, my friend's inability to sleep, and a random side conversion at an art opening together into one coherent sentence. That being too much work, and rife with large error bars, we opted instead for the psychic services of ChiChi the Whispering Chihuahua.
ChiChi's response. It's simple. Don't drink coffee immediately before bed.
see also:
m.o.i.: chichi the whispering chihuahua
We attempted to determine the exact cause, meaning, and purpose of every single scene that played out in this dream but doing so led us down some very convoluted reasoning that had us trying to include Rev. Martin Luther King, father, Bush's tax rebates, my friend's inability to sleep, and a random side conversion at an art opening together into one coherent sentence. That being too much work, and rife with large error bars, we opted instead for the psychic services of ChiChi the Whispering Chihuahua.
ChiChi's response. It's simple. Don't drink coffee immediately before bed.
see also:
m.o.i.: chichi the whispering chihuahua
