This should definitely win the "Most Random Photo EVER" contest.

What. The. Fuck.

I had to share. Marvel at its randomness.

This is why you should never drink before bed

So, I’ve been having some weird dreams lately. I need to get two of them off my chest. I had these a few nights ago.

I’m in a room. It’s white and padded like in an institution room you see in the movies. I’m just standing there chillin’—kinda wondering why the hell I’m in this room to begin with. All of a sudden, a woman that I work with (this is pretty much the ONLY woman I talk about, so if you know me, you know who I’m referring to, but you never know if she knows about this blog so I’m not naming any names) says, “Hey stupid! Over HERE!” I turn around and there she is. And man, she is MAD. Like, beet red, huffin’ and puffin,’ MAD.

So I say, “What the hell is YOUR problem?” And she says, “You KNOW my problem. Let’s fight it out.” And then she holds up her fists. I’m about as confused as I can be at this point because I have no idea what she’s pissed off about and since she has a few years on me, I tell her I’m not going to fight her.

“You WILL fight me! You WILL!” she screams. “And I want the FIRST swing!”

So, what can I do at this point? I say, “OK. I’ll stand here and you get the first swing.” Well, she swings and I dodge it all Matrix-style and shit. She falls forward. I repeat that I really don’t want to fight her.

“I will try and kill you then! HAHA!” she screams! And comes toward me again all deranged.

So, I punched her. Square in the left eye. I mean, shit—I had to defend myself, right? She falls backward and is out like a light for a few minutes. I sit down and wait for her to come to, because in this dream, I apparently had nothing better to do.

She wakes up and is more upset than ever. She says that I got a “lucky hit” but that it won’t happen again. We both get up on our feet and I insist, for the third time, that I don’t want to fight her.

But she ain’t takin’ no for an answer.

She charges toward me—like I’m a matador and she’s the frickin’ bull. I wait for her to get close and as soon as she does, I step to the side. She crashes head-first into the only unpadded section of the wall and knocks herself out.

I say out loud, “This is shit. I’m outta here” and open the door of the room to leave. I then enter another white room exactly like the first. And then I find my ex-boyfriend “R” in there and he’s all pissed off and pickin’ a fight with me, too.

Little does he know that I’m more than willing to fight him and I then proceed to completely kick his ass. It felt great. I kinda hate him. I don’t much care for my co-worker, either—but it isn’t the same sort of hate I have for “R.”

Yeah, "R." You know who you are, you motherfucker.

Anyway, that was one of the most recent dreams. Any dream interpreters out there?

I then had another dream the night after. This was even weirder. I’m in a field of daisies and I’m frolicking in the field like I’m in the fuckin’ “Sound of Music” or something. I mean, I’m happy as a pig in shit for some reason. And then, the next thing I know, the field is COVERED in pears. Not whole pears, either. Like that shit you get in a can. I mean, you couldn’t even see GRASS. There were pears up to your knees. So, I start rollin’ around in the pears and kid, I’m LOVIN’ it. Like, at the time, in that dream, there was NOTHING I wanted more than to just roll around in these canned pears forever and ever.

That’s it.

I think I should stop drinking before bed.

Random thoughts.

Everyone's so fucking happy lately. That shit's gotta stop. Kidding. I just need to get happier. I'm happy for all my friends who are happy, though. It's all good.

I'm sorry I've been drinking too much, y'all. I need it lately, though. Jesus said it was cool. Besides, it'll make me happy again! ;)

I've been having weird dreams lately. I'll write about them tomorrow. I'm just chillin'. Don't remember doing anything wrong. But everyone's mad at me in them. What else is new? Fuck 'em.

I'm going to go work and eat cheesecake now. With wine.