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10:49 a.m. - January 14, 2004
Last night dreamed about Smurfs and this morning I cannot get fa la lalala out of my head. Was I reviewing a cartoon episode I once watched, or was I dreaming and should engage in some deep thought regarding archetypes and unconscious communication? [editor's note: Is a smurf ever just a smurf?] I'm unsure, but Gargamel and Azrial (spelling?) the cat had kidnapped Baker Smurf and the rest of the smurfs were hungry and there was some sort of ropes-course mission involving dangling and keys and a lot of running, and somewhere during the rescue the Seven Dwarves pelted us with fist-size diamonds. If you recall smurfs being 3-apples-high, then you know the diamonds were troublesome and I ran like Chicken Little. Far too many cartoons for one dream.

Anybody recall where Smurfette came from? Just what are the procreative processes of smurfs, anyway?

Salient part of dream: Running without a shirt, feeling the air on my nips felt good. Woke up able to cut glass.

I'm off to class like the good lil' schoolboy I am.


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