When I awakened from this subconscious adventure, I was left with echoes of one question:

Where the fuck did this dream come from?

The star of this nocturnal transmission:

I don’t watch The View, but I’m constantly aware of it.  If it’s not featured on some random website, then Joe McHale skewers it somehow on The Soup.  But I watch that show on Wednesdays.  I didn’t have this dream anywhere near Wednesday…

Anybabawahwah, I should at least be flattered by my subconscious.  It was her birthday and she was hosting a party, The 50 Most Invited People.  I was one of the 50 most invited.

But so was one of my nondescript associates (it was someone I knew, but I don’t know who).  This person’s idea for a birthday present was to buy her scratch off lottery tickets.  This person’s reasoning:

You know, it’s a gift that could keep on giving.

I was wracking my brain while sleeping.  What do you get a woman like Barbara Walters for her birthday?

Then it hit me – donate to her favorite charity in her honor.  What was her favorite charity, you ask?

*tree thing