I had a crazy dream last night about being on a plane that was about to be blown up by terrorists. Then I was outside the plane, in a creek under a highway overpass, with a whole bunch of other people, watching a duck swim around. It turned out the plane (no longer shaped like a plane, but a plastic hamburger) was inside the duck, and if the duck vomited it out in time, everyone would be saved. This was an act of great heroism on the part of the duck, because once it spit out the plane it would die. The air was buzzing with suspense. The duck started retching and spasming, and the plane was halfway out but then the terrorists must have tried to blow it up, because before it got completely out of the duck’s beak, the duck blew up completely. Nevertheless, the terrorists had disappeared along with the duck, and everyone else inside the plane was saved. I felt sorry for the poor duck, and also amazed that it knew to do something so self-sacrificial.
By the way the terrorists were a bunch of skinny, sexy Indian girls. Wonder what that means.
[This post was imported on 4/10/14 from my old blog at satsumabug.livejournal.com.]