bull-shit to holy-shit

I am very pleased to have people reporting tales both media-related and non; most of which are much more exciting than any of my own. My next inclination is to stage re-enactments of the dreams, and the following would be a top candidate for such a project:

I had this dream which i recall only in odd fragments, but I'll try to make it coherent. I dreamed i was at a press conference called by coca cola in response to criticism from labor activists around their recent policies in columbia. to placate the activists they sent, as spokespeople, 3 large rat-like figures, who stood about waist-high. They wore their hair in long braids at the back and bonnets, and long smocks. they carried baskets with long handles full of spices or other farm-grown things. They looked like some kind of characters from lord of the rings or some other fantasy film. they carried themselves with quiet dignity, like quakers or something, the intended effect being to convey a sense of humble origins, as if Coke were deeply connected with the agrarian roots of their (non-unionized) workers.

the audience saw through this transparent ploy immediately and began heckling the rats, chanting "bull-shit, bull-shit" as soon as they walked in the room. this went on for a while until the rat nearest me began to faint (at this point my empathy for the rats grew, and I felt torn between my commitment to the labor activists and my sympathy for the unsuspecting rats), and finally he crashed to the floor and began dissolving, his skull crashing in and his fur shriveling up. there was obviously evidence of some kind of incredibly destructive virus or something.

the audience began chanting "holy-shit, holy-shit" and a sense of panic rose in the room. then I woke up.

Sam Binkley - New York, New York