Watch Out, Fiddy!

I had a dream last night involving my mom and I eating at a crappy whole-in-the-wall Chinese food restaurant when a big black car pulls up front containing none other than Fifty Cent and Flava Flav (along with an impressive looking posse of course). However, this was no ordinary looking 50, this was a man who had recently survived an explosion of some sort and was carefully maneuvered out of the car via wheel chair. The unlucky rapper was missing an arm, and had crippled legs, but was none the less very tough looking and still adorning his signature bullet-proof vest. Flav on the other hand was perky as usual, and waltzed into the restaurant where I was eating, and had a chat with my mom and I, and then autographed my copy of Faulkner's 'Light in August'. How lucky I was! I then remember waking up and mumbling the story to myself out loud to make sure that I would remember the dream in the morning. Otherwise, it very well may have been lost in my subconscious for ever. In the mean time, lets hope that the dust bunnies around my desk don't rise up to start some kind of revolution. Strictly by numbers, they have the advantage.