My dreams sure are the dumping ground for my brain.
Last night I dreamed George Harrison - only he wasn't a Beatle, he was a cowboy - was at my parents "new" house - only the house was not one I have ever been to - for a neighborhood party. He was hitting on me - I didn't mind since I wasn't married - and he gave me his belt to hold, only some kid took it while I was working the cotton candy machine and I chased her all the way to her house in the city to get it and then drove back to the ranch where George was giving riding lessons - three levels of difficulty all at once.
It got muddled after that. There was a fence I had to climb over and then my mom wanted something but George was busy...it was weird.
This is me and I have NO idea where some of that came from.
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