I dreamt that I ran into Tom Brady and told him that he looks just like the guy who makes the best homemade sausages.

I dreamt that I ran into Tom Brady and told him that he looks just like the guy who makes the best homemade sausages.

I dreamt that I was a giant mound of mashed potatoes.

I dreamt that a group of kids had sticky orange goop on their right palms. With right arms outstretched, palms down, they were sticking glass soda bottles, caps first, to their palms. It was a contest to get the most bottles stuck to your palm at once. The boy in the lead had nine crowded-ly attached.

I dreamt I was a jelly donut in one of the racks at Dunkin’ Donuts and I was looking out at customers placing their orders and thinking, “Don’t pick jelly, don’t pick jelly.”

I dreamt I tried to make a cup of coffee with my Keurig, but I couldn’t get it right, failing maybe 100 times, for example, I used apple juice or cocoa instead of water; the mug and the whole base of the machine went missing; and I added rice or frozen corn instead of coffee; and I added orange juice or ice tea instead of half n’ half. I never got it right.
I dreamt that I was standing at the bottom of a giant, wavy snow slide with three runs. One female cousin of mine was on each of the runs, all three riding down side-by-side on sleds while throwing strawberry jam in their own faces. When they ran out of jam, they started throwing wheat at themselves which stuck to the jam on their faces.
I dreamt that I was in a Turkish tee-pee helping volunteers sort donations into boxes labeled for different age groups. I hadn’t put a single thing into a box yet, because my first item was a bouquet of lollipops and I was hesitant to go with the obvious “children” box as adults and elderly can enjoy them, as well.

I dreamt that Tom Brady was hoarding cream cheese.
