I had a really fucked up dream last night involving Rick the Psycho(tm) and my ex Frank (moderately psycho but mostly just a lying shiznit) getting kicked out of my house (when Frank told Rick he could crash there in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping) killing my 4 year old aunt, trying to burn my beach house down, getting attacked by guerilla mercenaries and then taunted by a guy covered in blood walking like gollum smacking a severed human head against the walls in front of their shared cell in a roach coach, with a large Plexiglas door.
Somewhere in there, after sneaking out of the house through an underground tunnel, I rolled our 67 Impala down our sandy/grassy hill into the ocean, leaping out of the windshield to catch the attention of the beach lifeguards and the people swimming to help me take down the two crazy fuckers before they killed my grandparents and house guest in addition to my 4 year old grand-sister. In the end after they were put away and going to the chair I hung off our back fence playing soundtrack music from my head (some weird 80’s tune that talked about dreams) and slowly rolling myself down a rainbow to get the best view of the roach coach as it drove away.
I haven’t pooped in four days. Maybe that’s it.