First of all, I had a dream last night that I swear lasted the entire night, but felt like it only went on for about 10 minutes. See, when I started to fall asleep, I heard a sound out in front of the house that gave me a crazy thought. (Crazy thought being that I wondered if there were people showing up on my street to walk from house to house shooting machine guns at the spots on the houses where they thought people's bedrooms were - you know, since everyone would probably be asleep by that time in our neck of the woods, thereby hitting/killing anyone that happened to be in the line of the random spray of bullets.) So, I went to sleep with this crazy thought in my head.
The dream involved me being at someone's wedding...not my own, but a friend's. I don't know anyone getting mar-
Wait a minute. Yes I do. Holy shit.
Anyway, so I'm at this wedding, and for some reason I get shot multiple times in the torso area. But it's like no one noticed it happened. I'm wandering around, trying to find my fiance, and I realize after a while that he isn't there. So I call my sister and tell her. And then I try to text my fiance to tell him, but the message keeps getting interrupted by something else happening, so I don't think I can ever actually get the message sent.
Next thing I know, I'm in a hospital room, and I'm telling everyone in the room with me that I don't know what happened, but I've just been shot multiple times in the torso. (I kept saying "torso" too...which seems weird. It's accurate, though. I wasn't shot anywhere else except my chest and my belly.) Somehow, I'm still walking around, talking normally, and actually getting a little bit peeved with people as I tend to do quite often. I can only imagine it'd be allowable especially when I've got bullets in my torso.
Finally, a nurse comes into the room. For some reason, two of my coworkers are there (the guys that sit across the hall from me, actually), and they're trying to find out how this happened to me. The nurse gives me my hospital gown and a hospital robe, and tells me to change into it. I'm in the bathroom trying to close the door to change, but the one coworker is really insistent that we figure this out, and he's not leaving me alone. Finally, I'm yelling at him, "[Coworker]!! I need to pee and get changed! Please, let's continue this when I get out of the bathroom. I need to pee! I need to pee!!"
And that's when I woke up. It was about 4:50 a.m. And guess what?
I needed to pee. Love it when that happens.
The fiance and I were having a lovely conversation last night about magical jiz. This subject matter crosses so many lines it's not even funny, but just know that we think it might actually cure wrinkles, and people just haven't thought to test it out yet. I told him I'd call Lancome to discuss the matter just as soon as I find the proper time to do so. I won't tell you what else was discussed, since at the time I thought it might be funny to mention it, but now that I actually typed it out, I realized just what a sick fuck I am if I think it'll be funny to anyone other than me.
See. I do have the ability to filter. And you guys thought I shared too much all the time. Sillies...