I drive around Midtown near the DIA with the Hawk. We go into a small party store that only sells beer and pop. There are a bunch there and one of them tries to steal my backpack. I tell him I'm going to crack his skull open with it.
A blog to share my dreams. No, not my aspirations, but my actual dreams. I find our subconscious world absolutely fascinating--maybe someone can give me a bit of insight into just what these crazy dreams mean. Have at it world!
I'm at a baseball game and our seats are terrible. In fact, we're outside the stadium and we can only see the pitchers warming up ...
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