The dog woke me up this morning, and it was too early to get up. I crawled back into my warm bed and slipped back to sleep for an hour or so. I had the strangest dream in that hour of time. In it, John Travolta was my former foster brother and his daughter called me to ask why she wasn’t allowed to see her mother. I told her the truth, which was that her mother had a drug problem. Apparently, John wasn’t too happy with that, because he showed up on my doorstep. (In the dream, I was 17 and still living at home with both parents.)

I took him to my bedroom, where we made up, and he offered me pot. I guilt tripped him for never calling us now that he was a “big star” and he asked if he could tie me up with a bungee cord and have sex. Apparently, the fact that my parents had raised him didn’t bother him…and heck, he’s John freaking Travolta, who was I to say no?

I woke up before we could have incestuous sex.

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