As I paddled my rickety rowboat — I was on a rushing river somewhere — a couple of humungous alligators came up underneath, flipped me over and started biting my feet.
I’ve always hated that about alligators.
It was 2:14 a.m. and thankfully only a dream. I tried going back to sleep, but the alligators were waiting to finish me off so I turned on the TV and listened to four yippy dogs disguised as political commentators discuss the current crisis of the day.
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