True tales of my stupid subconscious

I almost never remember my dreams, but I remembered one I had last night, so now you're gonna hear about it. BECAUSE NOTHING'S MORE INTERESTING THAN SOMEONE TELLING YOU ABOUT SOME DUMB DREAM THEY HAD.*

Anyway, Paul, Frank, and I were at some sort of mixer/social event, dressed pretty nice and all. We were wandering around, talking to people. Then it turned out that CM Punk and Hiro were there, and that they were our friends. CM Punk kept hassling Hiro to take him time traveling (if I wrote fan fiction, this is probably what I would write), and we were all having a good laugh about it. Then Frank and I noticed that Jess was there with some other people, so we went over to talk to her, only she kept avoiding eye contact and walking to other parts of the party (the party was in some sort of courtyard, and there was an art gallery inside, whose presence I chalk up to my having read half of You Don't Love Me Yet yesterday). So Frank and I chased Jess around, when suddenly my friend Lindy appeared in front of me and wants to know how I've been, and I was trying to figure out how to get around her (because dream-me is an asshole) when my alarm went off.

So there you go. Sort of a calvacade of people who moved away, it seemed. But I think CM Punk and Hiro is a team-up the world needs in these dark times.


*(One of my favorite scenes in Scott Pilgrim is the one where Scott tries to tell Wallace and Other Scott about his Ramona dreams, only they don't want to hear about them so Scott just stammers "I... but... just... You're not the boss of me?")