Me: I had this WEIRD involved dream last night where I was adopted by a really smart kitten.
Me: Like, so smart it could talk, and had read Orson Scott Card.
Kei: smart, but tasteless, got it.
Me: And we had to take it to the vet, and it didn't want to go because it was worried the vet would think it was suicidal. And there was a cyclone going on. And the vet was in a, like, beachshack cocktail bar.
Emily: Orsen Scott Card lives in my town, or something. I think
Me: If you ever run into him, let him know 100% of the talking kittens in my subconscious like his work.
2 Comments:
You're posting!
Meanwhile... that dream... ah... do you need me to come down to Melbourne with a bottle of vodka?
I'm trying? We'll see how it goes.
Meanwhile, when don't I need you to come down with a bottle of vodka? (Except maybe this weekend, when we're going to Adelaide. Or next weekend, when we're coming back from Adelaide. Or the weekend after, when I'll be in QLD for my cousin's wedding. But the point stands.)
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