I was so hungry that i started to eat

That's when I realized I had just eaten Grandpa Owls meatloaf from Topka Kansas. He totally flipped out and

asked if Grandpa Owls had the number of how many licks does it take for a totsie roll pop. But I knew Grandpa Owls didn't know that number so I started to change the subject while

he made ramen noodles. Then suddenly a tootsie pop crahed through the window and stuck Grandpa Owls in the face, causing him to drop the ramen. Then

I woke up. Thank goodness, I thought, another dream down, twenty more to go. Which sounds strange, but, you see, I knew the date of my death because

the events of my life were confined to my dreams, and my dreams were a 22-part HBO docudrama. "But maybe there'll be a double episode," my mother consoled. "Or a whole new season."

What my mom didn't know was that my dreams were part of the bad HBO docudrama. Last year I nearly committed suicide because my dreams were part of HBO's Real Sex and

nobody could explain how HBO had managed to broadcast my dreams on their show. I had to know, but the execs were tight-lipped, driving me insane, hence almost offing myself. But

then while I was scratching my head over the whole thing, I discovered a cranial probe inserted in the back of my head. Aha, so THIS is how the HBO execs stole my dreams! I yanked

the probe. I felt something oozing out, so I pushed the probe and my brains back in. So be it. I preferred that my intellect be intact. It was a no-brainer.