I had a very bizarre dream last night. Kiki and I were sitting at a table on either side of Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and all three of us were listening to a long-haired crazy-looking Slapshot-but-20-years-later Paul Newman laugh himself silly over a poem he'd written about Kiki's smile. We were eating French toast cake. JDM used a deep-fried hockey puck to slice the cake. It was delicious.
This is what happens when crazy people are made to watch triple overtime when Stanley Cupcakes are running low.
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