In My Dreams

I'm going out on a limb here people. I know that some of you already think I'm pretty strange. And you'd be right. And I'd be flattered. But I think this blogging thing is becoming something way more than I ever thought it would be. What did I think it would be? No clue. What is it becoming? Still no clue. What I do know, is that some of you are showing up in my dreams. Yup. You have crossed the border into my subconciousness and are gettin' cozy. You're even bringing your family. Slyde and Earl were the first. I was expecting them over for dinner. And they of course brought their families and/or (shiny!) significant others. Liz was there too. Helping me to entertain. It was like a bizarre episode of The Bachelor meets The Nine. We flirted. We ate. We drank...we got up the next day and I had nothing to prepare you for breakfast. So I impressed you with our most popular morning fuel station, Tim Hortons. Shortly after, y'all went home and I was suddenly on my way to this southern aristocratic type of political rally for women. I had no clue what I was doing there, but after a moment or two the stuffy air of the place wore off and it turned into this political sort of rave where I met up with Tits and her hubby. Somewhere in between all this mess there was Mr. Novak who had a car accident and the Canadian police confiscated his car. Now the question, to which I'm sure I can already hear your mocking answers, but of which I will ask you anyway. Have you ever had a blogmare? Or am I the only impressionable freak in the room.