Delerium

I can't remember ever being this sick. The fever won't quit and the cough is merciless. And now I can't talk at all. All that comes out are throaty squeaks.

A combination of the fever and some groovy cough syrup have made for some tripped out dreams. I've been trying to tell Jethro about them for two days now, but my lack of vocal ability has rendered it nearly impossible.

The first was kind of funny. It actually involved Jack. It seems that I deleriously dreamed that he met a Bank Robbing Bitch. She talked him into quitting law enforcement because it wasn't lucrative enough and she made him buy her tons of stuff and she didn't put out. I don't know why I was aware of that, but somehow the information was made known. The blogosphere was inundated with comments from Trashman and all Jack's friends trying to convince him to ditch her, but the more fuss people made, the more stubborn Jack became until he was totally broke. He tried to get his job back and they said they'd consider it, but he still couldn't give up that woman. It was really kind of terrible.

The second dream was much more paranoid and had nothing to do with bloggers. Jeth and I were in the middle of a war zone in a place that was a cross between the U.S. and Haiti. Due to our recent political activities, we were on an assasination list. We had to give the girls to his cousins who were going to take them to Vancouver to hide. Jeth and I went on the run. It was a god-awful dream. We tried to get away together, but we were too easy a target and we knew we'd have to split up. We were in this crazy hotel and we heard Them coming for us. Not to be cheesy, but we made out like crazy in the lobby bathroom, before we split. I woke up sweating and crying. I think those psychos who pushed me into traffic frightened me worse than I thought.