this afternoon during my post-sunday masturbation nap, i dreamt about getting my hair cut. well, that i was getting my hair cut. only i wasn’t going to regular haircutter lady, i had to go to this giant banquet hall to pick my haircutter person.

when i walked into the hall i had my heart set on having sting (yeah, sting, life from the police) cutting my hair. i wandered around this giant hall in search of sting. finally some guy stopped me and asked if i needed some help.

“yes! i need to find sting so he can cut my hair.”
“well, here he is,” the guy said.
“sting, will you cut my hair?”

sting didn’t answer he just made his eyes real big and grabbed my hand to lead me to his haircutting chair.

once i was done getting my hair cut i went to some restaurant to meet some girl. i’m not sure who the girl was/is, but we ended up having sex on the table of the restaurant.

then i was rudely awakened by a phone call from grossguy.

oddly enough, i am getting my hair cut tomorrow. i wonder if there is some anxiety surrounding the hair cut.