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It appears to be Night of the Living Dead. Or… Undead. Or… whatever.
It’s Zombie Town on SciFi!
I was feeling a little pissed off last night at my former employers. It still happens now and then. As luck would have it, one of them has a rather active anti-fan base online, so whenever I visit these sites it makes me feel better.
I actually had a dream about my old workplace the other night. My old old workplace. Before we moved to a larger building and everyone became insane.
I was sitting on the kitchen counter one day having a cup of cereal with a co-worker. Which was actually a bit of a tradition back in the day. You know those big plastic Dixie cups? Great for cereal.
So we were just chatting and eating cereal, getting ready for a day of Bibling, when our boss walked into the kitchen area. And my co-worker stopped our conversation, turned to him and said, “I’ve been wondering: what exactly our your body measurements?”
Which caught me totally off-guard. And slightly scared me, considering how obsessive he was about his body.
My boss stopped in his tracks, got all philosophical-like, and started strutting around the kitchen, muttering, “What are my measurements… what are my measurements… what are my measurements…”. He finally stopped, turned to my friend and said, “Well Fred, you tell me. What exactly are my measurements.” And proceeded to rip off his shirt and start flexing his pecs. Or delts. Whatever they’re called.
Fred stammered some sort of guess, my boss corrected him (Fred being way low on how wide his chest was and way high on how narrow his waist was), and he then took off toward his office to start doing pushups.
Which seems like a pretty mundane dream all in all, except that happened.
I totally forgot, on the other hand, what happened in my dream.