I don’t usually remember my dreams these days, but last night was a notable exception.

How about the dream where I bumped into friends while standing in line at a local house of prostitution? (Heya, Oznoid!)

Or the hard core drag race through the back roads of the Santa Cruz Mountains? (Sorry about your car, Jess.)

Or the girl who was making a little extra tuition money by gambling on her ability to identify different types of clouds? (Successfully. Well done, mags.)

Or when I buried four bodies in the plot of dirt under a queen bed? I had to do a lot of work rearranging them to get all four to fit.

I wish I knew what to credit such recall to. Perhaps the extraordinary east winds last night. At times, I thought the house was going to blow over!