At least he didn’t have a heart attack.

Last night I dreamt that I was travelling somewhere in a big green 1970’s panel van. The van had station wagon wooden sidepanels, and for some reason Dick Cheney was in the back seat of the van.

He was trying to explain to me the intricities of why we invaded Iraq. For some reason, I was whipping out my good English for Mr. Cheney and I tried to make a point about how tenuously related Saddam was to the real reason we started the war. He said “that’s EXACTLY the point.”

So I pulled over the van at my sisters house and Dick and I helped them move a mattress out of their basement, which looked like the creepy basement of my rental house in Macomb.

I have no idea where the different elements of this dream came from, but they certainly combined into a good one here.