The other day, while looking for something else entirely, I found my dream journal from five years ago...One Bad Cat
dreamt Easter Monday 1997
In a rough-and-ready lowlife bar, a semi-humanoid talking tiger tries to pay his bar tab with an IOU. The barkeep demurs, and a brawl breaks out—halted abruptly by the tiger, rearing up on his hind legs, left forepaw over the barman's mouth, right (with razory claws full extended) to the barman's throat. Give me a reason, he growls.
Bones
dreamt April Fool's 1996
I step on the bathroom scale and see that I only weigh 140 pounds. I look in the mirror: I still look to be the same fleshy hulk I ever was. "Geez," I murmur, "I guess I really am just big-boned."
