If dreams really did come true...
12 February, 2004 :: 10:57 a.m.
So I've had two dreams this week about the president...in one, he visited the place I worked, which was some weird giant corporation that was evil like walmart, but it was a massive complex with a store on the bottom level and offices and living quarters for employees above in some sort of skyscraper and it was run by some horrible Martha Stewart-type person (I need to stop falling asleep while watching Fox News)...anyhoo, Bush was there campaigning and talking about how the Democrats wanted to increase taxes and weren't committed to protecting America and her interests, blah, blah, blah...so I walked up and started shouting at him that he was full of shit and an idiot and he quickly made a retreat.
In the other dream, I assassintated him. He was campaigning again in some outdoor area and I was a suicide bomber (we can't be arrested for our dreams yet can we?). I was seriously depressed with the lack of direction in my life and feeling rather hopeless so I decided that if my life wasn't going to mean anything, I would at least make my death count for something, so I made it through a line of people to shake hands with Bush...I reached out and took his hand to shake it and revealed to him that I was wearing a bomb. He tried to pull his hand away, but I pulled him right up tight to me and blew both of us up. And then I woke up and the jackass was on Fox News yet again. He's in Harrisburg right now, but I did not decide the dream meant I was actuallly supposed to act it out. For one thing, in my dreams the Secret Service were always mysteriously absent and for another, I have no idea how to build a bomb that I could hide on myself until I was close enough to act...