11/1
I dreamed that I was at home in the house where I grew up. My Aunt Fawnie came out on the porch and kissed me. “They took California off of us,” she lamented. I told her it was full of commies anyway. Then the house was under siege. Frankie was there; I tried to scoop him up in my arms and run away with him, but he escaped my clutch. I had a machine gun and was shooting men in their heads. Their brains were splattering, and I was thinking, good, another one down. This dream was all Ron’s fault, always hounding me with his political bullshit that I don’t give a fuck about.
