So I had another dream last night. And if there's one thing people LOVE to read/hear about, it's other people's nonsensical dreams! Yes, you're just that lucky!
I was watching The Colbert Report last night (it's really the only thing I do) and Stephen's guest for the evening was "America's Hottest Ugly Man" Michael Phelps. So I guess I had to dream about him out of principle or something.
For some reason I was racing around London with a gang of ne're-do-wells on a scavanger hunt of the utmost stupidity. I ran into Mr. Phelps (who had put on a few pounds since we last saw him--like 50--perhaps put on from running a halfway house in London instead of swimming his brains out), mostly because we were looking for him as part of our hunt. I had to get his name down on paper to get credit, so I asked him what his full name was.
(Winking at me) "I go by Michael Phelps but my real name is Bob Carol."
"OK, Michael Carol."
"No, BOB Carol."
"NO, BOB Carol."
"Oh, BOB! Got it. Bob Phelps." (Because I'm incredibly retarded in every dream I've ever had)
"OK. Bob. Carol."
And then he winked at me again.
If I ever meet Michael Phelps in this life, you can bet your can of beans I'm gonna call him Bob Carol while winking madly at him. I'm sure he'll totally get it.