I fell asleep watching Bones on netflix last night and I dreamt that I was an assassin and I had put a hit out on the Pillsbury dough boy. I had already offed Tony the Tiger from the frosted flakes commercials and Bones had figured out that the murder weapon was a 17th century cutlass of some sort. Then Booth got a lead on me and suddenly he's chasing me though the Grand Canyon trying to shoot me with a potato launcher, shouting about how this was all a mistake and I should get back to the de-briefing room.
One of the weirdest dreams I've ever had.
DK;DC: How often do you eat cereal?
All the time. I'm surprised my teeth haven't fallen out from the sugar or that I haven't had a heart attack from all the sugar I've ingested.