i was listening to my media player playlist. which includes, but is not limited to days of the new, the new rob thomas stuff, jon oliva, fuel, tool, and trans-siberian among others.

i like bands whose names end in an ool sound. so if you're in a band, make sure your name has the ool sound at the end. i'm sure to love your music then.

and i remembered this dream i had so long ago. i dreamt about jon oliva, that he was in the rehab hospital and i had visited him.

see, i used to live in this house on hilltop road in toms river, nj, that must've been built over an indian burial ground. cuz all sorts of strange stuff happened there. i'll get to the rotated tires and the buck through the window dreams later on down the blog road.

as i learned later on, near around the time when i had this dream, one mister jon oliva had actually spent time in rehab.

i don't know jon. he's not my friend. though i do adore him. i met him once at a bar before a gig. he was very nice to me. as beautiful in person as he is in his music.

then the other night i had an eery dream where i woke up unsure if it was real or not.

i was hangning out with a hot blonde girl. i reached my hand to her chin and gently turned her head so i could see the left side of her face.

she said, are you trying to kiss me?

no, i'm just trying to see if you're hurt, i said.

and then we kissed.

sounds like a political dream to me. dream indeed.

why can't that one be one of those psychic dreams?

fucking, stupid, useless brain of mine.