Okay, maybe not all dreams make good stories…

The book I’m currently working on is based on an idea from a dream I had a while back.  But yesterday I had a dream that was just bizarre.

I dreamed I was talking to Roger Ebert. We were chillin in an apartment watching a movie on TV and talking about its merits.  Turns out I was back in time, because Ebert still had his jaw and could talk.  Seemed normal enough until I realized that Gene Siskel had just died.

So I’m at the funeral with Roger Ebert… aaaaaand that’s where it gets weird.  I’m trying to warn Roger about the future, the cancer he was going to get and saying he didn’t want to end up like Siskel, did he?  That’s when the body was brought out into the congregation… on a gurney.  Roger is trying to get me to shut the hell up as the priest tells everyone that Siskel wanted everyone to know that he had donated his brain and heart to science.

Then they bring out the surgical saw and open up his head right there in front of everyone, and open his chest cavity, and take the organs out right there and then.

Even in the dream I almost threw up.

What the hell did I eat to have a dream like that?

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