Wahooooaaaa. Freaky freaky dream last night. Out of the blue, I dreamt that...hang on, I’ll start at the beginning.

Some of you well-read, updated, general-knowledgable ones might be aware that a few days ago, the chairman (or some equally big-shotted big shot) of Taylor’s College died in a horrendously horrendous car crash. A terribly un-nice thing to happen to a very (apparently) nice guy. I should know. Had a very in-depth conversation with him once. It went something like this:

Him: Congratulations.
Me: Thank you.
Him: You’re welcome.

Anyhoo, last night, I dreamt of him. We were in a room, and he was holding up two suits. He asked me, “Which suit do you think I should wear to the funeral?”

Come again?!

“Which suit?”

Alriiiiight. S’not everyday you get to help someone pick out his clothes for HIS funeral. So I helped him choose one, and stood there wondering if I should let him know exactly whose funeral it was.

Hurrr…not your everyday(night) dancing-bunnies-on-the-sidewalk dream. In all probability, it means absolutely nothing and is just me being more of an ass than I usually am.

All the same, I’ll be sleeping with the lights on tonight.

Categories: Misc [t]

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» Gaston (60.217.232.67) on 2010-09-02 02:57:45

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