In My Brain While Sleeping… When Nature Attacks (Because You Didn’t Drink Beer)
The dream started off normal enough.
I was hanging out with a group of friends at a bar, drinking, when all of a sudden, one of my friends was launched into the air by a wooden stool.
It kind of happened like this:
We rushed to his aid and helped him up. Somebody checked the stool and there was nothing remarkable about it. He said he was fine, so we continued drinking. Rather than trusting another seat, my previously airborne friend opted to lean against the wood-paneled wall. He chose to be sober that night, so he asked the waitress for another glass of water to replace the last one he spilled.
That’s when the wall blasted him across the room somehow, even though its surface remained in tact.
In a blood curdling whelp, he begged the question, “Why?” That’s when a creature that looked like this:
…except meaner explained everything.
When you choose not to partake entirely in the sacrifice that nature has made for your enjoyment, it is an insult to the remainder of nature you have used.
Tonight, we, the wooden chairs and wooden walls, have lashed back because you refused to honor our fallen hops and barley brethren.
So the moral of the dream is this: DRINK.