My dreams last night included a very arduous climb up a steep hill whereupon, at the top, Neil Gaiman, secretly a hit man, ordered the entire cast of 1900, all members of the Mafia, to begin shooting at me. I managed to disarm a grand total of one with a theatrical sandbag and steal his gun, which immediately fell apart as soon as I tried to fire it. I wound up back at the very bottom of the hill again. Gee, Dr. Freud, can you tell me what that means?
Posted on: Tue, 18 Feb 2014 17:14:04 +0000