  I've been conducting an experiment wherein I'll fill my head with thoughts of dogs right before going to sleep in order to encourage canine dreams. It's not working. The other night, I invented a new kind of soy milk that was pre-packaged with cereal. The dream kinda fell apart when I couldn't figure out why the cereal was still crunchy. Still, that was more coherent than the one where I got invited to a taping of the Clint Eastwood Show. It was more dinner theatre than anything else and Clint wasn't even there. Instead, I sat next to Matthew McConaughey and tried to convince him that I thought Reign of Fire was a legitimately great movie. "No, really ... when you jumped at the dragon with the axe! Man, that was heroic. " And then everyone got up and started line dancing ... I felt pretty excluded. 
