Sorry, Dave...I don't know where you were this time, but he came back in my dreams again. Yeah, it was him...Michael Buble. I don't know why I have dreams about him, but I certainly don't mind...he's pretty easy on the eyes dontcha think? Well, you probably don't think that since you're a dude. Whatever. You know he's handsome and has a voice that even our son can pick out. (One time at a restaurant, a Michael Buble song came on and he started yelling his name over and over...yes, I know son, it's him.)
But why does he show up in my dreams? No idea. This time, he was playing tennis by himself. He was really getting into it, hitting the ball against the wall and it would spring right back to him. But as all my dreams do, well, maybe not all, but a vast majority, they turned really weird and hard to explain. Like, for instance, in this dream, dinosaurs were trying to get onto the court. I was just watching him play, and I knew who he was, but I didn't want to bother Mr. Buble since he was having time to himself away from crowds. But those dinosaurs were trying to get in! I had to warn him or he was supposed to save me or something.
I wish I knew what happened, but then I heard a door shut very loudly and the pitter patter of little Peamite Alpha footsteps. Oh well, maybe he'll show up again one day and I'll know what happens. Or, I'll just forever wonder what happens like I am with my other dream I had about him. S'ok. Maybe I'll have enough dreams that I can just piece them together one day and have a heck of a story for ya. ha.
Ok, so if you didn't know this already, you definitely know now, that I am indeed a little weird. I may have scared some of you away, and I apologize. Please come back, and I'll try to be a little more normal next time.
Oh, and I'll leave you with one of my favorite cartoons depicting what really happened to dinosaurs.