Sweet dreams aren't made of cheese

On Saturday night I did leave before the taleggio was finished but I’m pretty sure I did not have cheese dreams. As if I could even tell though. I have been having cheese dreams lately even when I haven’t eaten cheese. On Friday night I dreamt I was a reindeer herder. And I was in a reindeer race. But the king of the reindeer herding tribe set me up to lose by swapping my rad reindeer with an inferior reindeer. Jib.



Once a couple of ‘friends’ told me that listening to other people’s dreams is the boringest thing in the world. I do not subscribe to this. Hence, when I have an interesting dream I tend to tell people about it.

Last week I dreamed that I was getting married but I also was a Harry Potter-type chosen one and I had to fight Voldemort on my wedding day and I had lost my powers! Fucking mind-bender, right! You can bet everyone I have told about that dream was pretty impressed. At the end of the dream I was transported to an island to fight Voldemort while a bunch of death eaters circled around chanting. Then Voldemort and I were sucked into a black sea. Everything was black. THEN I woke up. WHOA!

I told Mickey ‘Mikey Doubleword’ Blue Eyes about this dream and he told me about a dream he’d had in which he had set his alarm too early and woke up in 1918. Then he hit snooze and woke up in 1945. Other people’s dreams are boring! Pah!