I almost never remember my dreams. And after the dream I woke up from this morning, I wish it was just never.
This time I was in New York visiting friends, except most of the people there were more acquaintances than friends, and didn't look particularly excited to see me.
I was chatting to Fry, in the pouring rain, when some black beetle sort of thing flew into my eye socket/throat (which were somehow the same orifice, attractive I know) and we spent several minutes trying to get it out. It happened eventually, but I can tell you that I am still grossed out at the thought of it.
And the most horrible part of the whole dream was that Fry had the worst haircut that has ever existed. Think bowl cut in the front, huge 80's mullet in the back. Even a hipster wouldn't think it was cool in an ironic way.
Fear not, though. I've already emailed Fry and recommended that she don't do anything of the sort with her hairstyle anytime soon.