This Is Drivel

I had the strange experience of watching a rerun of a dream last night.

My Darling B stole about a trillion dollars that Jack Nicholson stole from a bank, and I helped her steal it by hiding it under the floorboards while Jack was sleeping in the bathtub. He went into a Nicholsonian rage when he discovered it was missing and ran off down the hall with an axe to find the guy who stole it from him. After he left, I pulled up all the floorboards, grabbed the money and ran off to Northern Canada with My Darling B where he buried the money in a meteor crater, making periodic withdrawals to pay the rent and buy the occasional case of Molson.

All of this was, as I said, a dream I had before. I wasn’t even the least bit worried when Jack got all mad and grabbed an axe, because I knew he wasn’t going to suspect me for a moment, even though I was the only guy around who knew where his money was.