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Last night I dreamt that I shot Paul Martin in the side of the neck, but he didn't die. He wasn't even hurt. He just kept on making sandwiches.
I was just sitting there, watching him, wondering 1) why he didn't die, and 2) why I'd stuck around after shooting him, when the cops showed up. I could no longer remember actually shooting him, but I knew that I had, and that the physical evidence was overwhelmingly against me. I woke up before I was charged with anything because the phone rang. When I woke up I was trying to figure out what I should admit to. If I told them I blanked out, could I get off with temporary insanity?
I told Phil, who was on the phone, about my rather unsettling dream and he laughed, "I guess you're not voting Liberal!"
Now that I'm awake and have thought it over, I think PM didn't die because he was a cursed, immortally undead pirate.
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"The mind of the thoroughly well informed [person] is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, and everything priced above its proper value."
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