I had a procedure a few days ago to improve nasal breathing.

There was some pain, mostly just discomfort from a nasal splint stitched into my nose.  In any case, they prescribed vicodin to me.

I barely feel any different after taking a pill, but it wildly affects my dreams.

I don’t have serial killer, crazy dreams.  They just go off on insane tangents.  Here’s last nights episode.

Four of my fraternity brothers and I are riding on a flatbed train.  We are informed that we have 48 hours to build an oil rig, using the parts and equipment on the train.  After taking inventory of everything, we realize we have no torches for cutting and no welding tools.

One of the guys I was with jumps into a lake to swim back to his truck to get his acetylene torch. We decided to play checkers and wait for him to get back before we got started.

There Will Be Blood, Part 2?

I could probably stretch that storyline out two hours, if anyone in Hollywood is interested.