![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Last night was pretty strange. After my usual evening workout (chest day, arrg!), I got in, and finally applied all the changes to my Bongos install for Warcraft. That took another hour or so. I then read emails, surfed the intarwebs, and read while vaguely watching/listening to the second broadcast of The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report. It's now roughly 2am, and time for me to sleep.
I go downstairs and hop into bed. Bill is sleeping on my side of the bed, making it rather difficult for me to get in. He then proceeds to toss, turn, snore, and mutter throughout the night, each time, waking me up (I'm a light sleeper). When I *do* finally get to sleep, I had a very strange dream.
I was in a small house, living with one of my co-workers, who in this case, may have been a brother, along with a parent, or some other authority-type figure (like in Peanuts, never actually seen, but their presence was felt, and we did interact). The odd bit was the fact that I returned to this "home" after a few days of being "away", only to find out things were a bit odd. I later find out that a serial killer has had my "family" hostage for days or weeks, and was in fact, in the other room. He didn't want to be seen, so when I went into the other room, he was a little taken aback. He looked like something out of the 70s, dirty blond hair, a bit shaggy, and very oily. He wore those horrible fade-tinted aviator glasses, and an oily porn 'stache. He was clearly bonkers. So I played along, and went back into the other room where the others were eating breakfast. I sat down and made smalltalk, while scanning the area for anything I could use as a weapon. I had to leave for work, so I got up and left. It seemed the serial killer wanted everything to *appear* as normal, so as to not alert the authorities.
Instead of going to the office, I stopped by a friend's house, and picked up two handguns, and a large flashlight (the kind you can beat people with). When it was the appropriate time for me to return from work, I went back to the house, armed to the teeth. I went back into the room with the serial killer, who proceeded to go all Charles Manson in his speech, typical of many Hollywood films. I nodded and went along with his crazy talk, then immediately drew one of the pistols. Again, much like in Hollywood films, he proceeded to tell me how I couldn't possibly kill him, that I didn't have the guts, etc.... before he could complete his tirade, he had 2 bullets in whatever was left of his head, and 4 in his chest. The white walls of the room were a mess. It would take me days to clean that up.
I go downstairs and hop into bed. Bill is sleeping on my side of the bed, making it rather difficult for me to get in. He then proceeds to toss, turn, snore, and mutter throughout the night, each time, waking me up (I'm a light sleeper). When I *do* finally get to sleep, I had a very strange dream.
I was in a small house, living with one of my co-workers, who in this case, may have been a brother, along with a parent, or some other authority-type figure (like in Peanuts, never actually seen, but their presence was felt, and we did interact). The odd bit was the fact that I returned to this "home" after a few days of being "away", only to find out things were a bit odd. I later find out that a serial killer has had my "family" hostage for days or weeks, and was in fact, in the other room. He didn't want to be seen, so when I went into the other room, he was a little taken aback. He looked like something out of the 70s, dirty blond hair, a bit shaggy, and very oily. He wore those horrible fade-tinted aviator glasses, and an oily porn 'stache. He was clearly bonkers. So I played along, and went back into the other room where the others were eating breakfast. I sat down and made smalltalk, while scanning the area for anything I could use as a weapon. I had to leave for work, so I got up and left. It seemed the serial killer wanted everything to *appear* as normal, so as to not alert the authorities.
Instead of going to the office, I stopped by a friend's house, and picked up two handguns, and a large flashlight (the kind you can beat people with). When it was the appropriate time for me to return from work, I went back to the house, armed to the teeth. I went back into the room with the serial killer, who proceeded to go all Charles Manson in his speech, typical of many Hollywood films. I nodded and went along with his crazy talk, then immediately drew one of the pistols. Again, much like in Hollywood films, he proceeded to tell me how I couldn't possibly kill him, that I didn't have the guts, etc.... before he could complete his tirade, he had 2 bullets in whatever was left of his head, and 4 in his chest. The white walls of the room were a mess. It would take me days to clean that up.
