She wants to be sure,cause you know sometimes

wonder if the songbird is real, or it's just the fruit of my imagination? Is everything around me real? Or - am I dreaming for such a long time, that

I have become a butterfly who was dreaming that he was a man who dreamed that he was a man dreaming that he was a butterfly dreaming that he was naked at the high school

dreaming that it was a low school dreaming that it was a control mechanism dreaming that it was a creature dreaming that it was a man foaming at the mouth dreaming that

it was a mouth foaming at the man dreaming that it wasn't he but his sister dreaming she was the previously mentioned creature dreaming it was NOT the man foaming at mouth dreaming

of his sister. I know exactly what you're thinking. Why include this when we could be talking turkey? But I insist. If the man foaming at the mouth dreamt that his sister wasn't fo

rensically interested in him from her side of the grave, it didn't seem like a good time to review his insurance options. He became less agitated and wiped his frothy mouth with

the frilly hand towel hanging by the nearby sink. Whoops. Was he not supposed to wipe his mouth on that? Maybe it was decorative. Also, he left a large, green, gooey goober on it.

He threw the towel into the washing basket and walked downstairs into the kitchen. In the kitchen was a large dog sitting at the table with a

poker game starting with his buddies. The Saint Bernard handed him a cigar, shoved a beer in his hand, while the beagle dealt. Before long, all his troubles were forgotten.