I Kicked Kevin Costner's Ass

Monty:

I'm not sure how thoughts make it into rem sleep, but last night I kicked the Kevin Costner's ass - the Tin Cup version. That was probably my last Costner film.

In the dream, I was drunk at the time and Kevin was putting the moves on Susie. Yep, Susie and Kevin Costner cozy in a bar's corner booth. I'm not sure exactly why I was angered - Susie and I were not an item in the dream - and I sobered up later in the dream to regret the joy I felt in bloodying Kevin Costner.

(Note: After I woke up, I tried to transform Kevin into Tom Brady, but it was clearly Costner).

The Bible tells me not to get drunk. So perhaps it was god speaking to me yesterday after two classes of really good wine.

Or, perhaps the 6-week countdown to baby #3 is giving me the baby blues. I doubt that, though, because if that were the case my dream probably would've centered around me at Woody's in my tighty-whities.

Perhaps I can get some monday morning psycho-quarterbacking on my affliction.