Tuesday, February 20, 2007
I had a dream the other day where my Uncle told me I have to go fight an army of undead gerkin vampires. It was a tiresome chore but I reluctantly agreed. They had little bat wings and stick figure arms and legs and carried little pickle forks. As wave after wave of their diminutive green bodies flapped towards me I slashed at them with a fish; a salmon or a haddock or something, something that went good with relish. Soon I was surrounded by the bodies of the fallen and bled from many tiny puncture wounds which the Gerkins acidic juices stung. I went back inside the straw roofed house of my ancesters and had a grill cheese sandwich and went to sleep.