My dream last night was pretty spotty. For part of it, I was in the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, except more ghetto, and Will Smith saw his mom's boob and that caused all sorts of mental problems. Then I ran off to a gas station somewheres and all of the people in there were dressed like it was freakin' 1957 or something. So I was like, meh, must be like an acting troupe or something. That or hipster. So I ask the guy at the cash register, "Do you guys have any, like, fruit cocktail kinds of things?"
Best part of the dream. Right here.
This guy. This. Guy. Fat. Beard. Wayfarer glasses. Hair combed all like John Travolta in Grease. Freakin' button up sweater, alright? Yeah. I'm leaning towards hipster, too.
Then he says, "Wait, I'm really hung over, what's a fruit cocktail? Oh, yeah! You want one of these?"
*gives me fruit by the foot*
I'm like LOL sure, kid.
Then I woke up. :)
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