Just woke up from an afternoon nap and remembered something I meant to type in when I woke up hours ago, first thing this morning when some idiot knocked on our door and broke into my dreams.

Before I describe this dream I was having, let me lay a little groundwork so you don't completely freak. There was this movie somewhere between 10 and 20 years ago (how's that for ballpark?) where these people were taking some liquid to let them live eternally, except it didn't really; it let them appear to live, but in fact when one of them went to the doctor, her body temperature was so low the doc realized she was dead (this is all from memory, so details might be wrong... I don't want to stop and google it or I'll lose my train of thought). Anyway these two bimbos were pushing each other around for some reason on some stairs, and they both fall down and, being brittle, fall apart with their heads rolling around but still talking.

So now that you have that stupid but non-gory idea in your head, let me describe the snippet of the dream that I remember. It's about this custodian at the Fort Lauderdale main Post Office named Eddie. I'm not sure he's fictional or real, but I remember a white guy with longish hair, a little older than me so probably a VietNam vet, who always greeted me pleasantly. Well, anyway, he was in my dream. At least, parts of him were. I was with a group of people, and his head and hands were on the floor. There was no blood, but they hadn't been sliced off neatly; they had been torn off, apparently by something of immense brute strength. But Eddie was talking! So I was embarrassed by my friend Eddie, and told him, with as firm a voice as I could muster, "Eddie, pull yourself together!"

Well, that's it. That's what was so important I had to tell you. You may now return to your regularly scheduled entertainment.

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last updated 2013-01-10 20:18:12. served from tektonic.jcomeau.com