Is it weird that this morning, of all mornings, I had a dream with Ron Paul in it?
First time a politician made it in.
He was driving a van, I was in back right behind him. We made a stop, to pick up the black girls kids, she was sitting next to me. We picked up kids, as well as adopted some animals. One of these animals was a Furby, except a live Furby. I held it, it was docile at first, but as we drove down the road, it went berserk. I accidentally threw it forward instead of out the window, where it assaulted Ron Paul. 'Well, there goes my chance at an autograph' I thought.
If I were the kind to put merit in dreams and their symbolism, I'd say the dream was telling me that even in the face of a Furby onslaught, Ron Paul can still keep the van on the road. Where obviously the van is a metaphor for the country.
But I don't.
Anyway:
"Ok we aren't such things and birds are pretty advanced. They fly and shit from anywhere they want. While we sit on our automatic toilets, they're shitting on people and my car while a cool breeze tickles their anus. That's the life."
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