I seldom wake up and have extensive memories of my dreams. This is probably a good thing because my life makes the Dos Equis guy look like a fucking punk-ass sissy – and my dreams are my life times about a trillion. I.e., vivid memories of my dreams would be way too much awesomeness for even me to digest.
Case in point: This morning, I woke up with a clear memory of being served a dish called "The Ethiopian Ankle Bracelet." It was made from a soft-boiled ostrich egg and earth worms. It was being served to me by an androgynous Indonesian with an unusually large head.
And that's just one small excerpt from entire good night's sleep.
Tell me that's not totally fucked up. And awesome.
