"I'm no artist, but you do like it?..Here, have a whiff of my flower". If you can name this movie, a tip of the cap to you sir/madam. Anyways, I usually take Advil PM to help ensure that I'll actually go to bed. I don't feel like getting back on Ambien because if you don't give yourself 7 hours ahead of time, it's bad news. So I fall asleep around quarter after 11, and that's when the carnieness ensues. First, I have a dream that I'm at this abandoned collision shop, and I get into to some dude who supposedly works there. Nope, instead he tells doesn't like to fix cars, but rather hanging people, gutting them and pissing on them while they die. Quite a different scenario from my personal likes of booze and broads, but to each his own. So I find a box cutter and nail this motherfucker across the forehead, which of course does nothing, and like a complete dumbfuck I end up dropping the cutter as I go to attack him again.
I probably got pissed on or something, who knows...I woke dry so maybe I kicked in the nuts or something. I Wake up, and then get welcomed to a new fucked up dream. This time I'm on vacation or something with two of my buddies in some old little fucking shack by a lake. This time it's there's not a killer; the fucking shit ass shack starts collapsing on our heads. Turns out the entire ceiling is rotten thanks to a shitload of bees, kinda like this, but just imagine like millions and millions. They were indeed sting crazy, and our firearms were useless against them.
I don't even remember the third one, but I'm sure it probably sucked. But when it comes down to it, I guess I really don't have a choice. Either no sleep, or hope for the best with dream that has Jenna Jameson in it and I usually wake up with a cigarette already in my mouth.
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