HAD to share this!
My friend Dave just sent me this email about a dream a guy had. I think the whole thing is just beyond hysterical:
Now that I'm off the weed, for medical reasons, I'm dreaming more (or
> remembering more). So get this one, from last night:
>
> My wife and I go to a Dan show. It appears to be a Hilton ballroom or
> something...very small. There's maybe 75 seats. They play a short show
> (don't remember any songs) and then start a question-and-answer
> session, walking around the audience like Donahue used to.
>
> The sound tech can't get it together, though, and Don and Walt walk
> out. Everyone is pissed. The Mrs. and walk out of the building and
> start towards the car when I decide to go back in and complain to
> someone. I go back in. I try to use the bathroom but there are too
> many bugs (you know, it's a dream).
>
> Next thing I know, I'm up in a room with Don and Walt. They are being
> very nice to me. Walt's on the phone, apparently trying to get laid.
> Then Bob Dylan shows up.
>
> Still with me? He sits next to me on the couch and we start talking,
> apparently about computers, because he says to me, "You know that
> thing on the computer, with the wire, that moves around? They should
> call that a RAT!". As he says this, I notice he has a glass eye, a la
> Sammy Davis Jr. Very freaky.
>
> About this time, I realize that the wife is sitting in the car waiting
> for me. I ask to use the phone to call her. Walt is very accomodating,
> handing me the phone, which is connected to a backpack he's wearing. I
> accidently call my drug dealer.
>
> That's it. Glad I got a chance to write it down, and if you read it
> all, all I can say is, sorry about that.
>
> Noam Sane <-------------------- needs a bong
Now that I'm off the weed, for medical reasons, I'm dreaming more (or
> remembering more). So get this one, from last night:
>
> My wife and I go to a Dan show. It appears to be a Hilton ballroom or
> something...very small. There's maybe 75 seats. They play a short show
> (don't remember any songs) and then start a question-and-answer
> session, walking around the audience like Donahue used to.
>
> The sound tech can't get it together, though, and Don and Walt walk
> out. Everyone is pissed. The Mrs. and walk out of the building and
> start towards the car when I decide to go back in and complain to
> someone. I go back in. I try to use the bathroom but there are too
> many bugs (you know, it's a dream).
>
> Next thing I know, I'm up in a room with Don and Walt. They are being
> very nice to me. Walt's on the phone, apparently trying to get laid.
> Then Bob Dylan shows up.
>
> Still with me? He sits next to me on the couch and we start talking,
> apparently about computers, because he says to me, "You know that
> thing on the computer, with the wire, that moves around? They should
> call that a RAT!". As he says this, I notice he has a glass eye, a la
> Sammy Davis Jr. Very freaky.
>
> About this time, I realize that the wife is sitting in the car waiting
> for me. I ask to use the phone to call her. Walt is very accomodating,
> handing me the phone, which is connected to a backpack he's wearing. I
> accidently call my drug dealer.
>
> That's it. Glad I got a chance to write it down, and if you read it
> all, all I can say is, sorry about that.
>
> Noam Sane <-------------------- needs a bong