I can't remember if I entered the bus from behind or not...

Last night, with my belly full of bbq ribs and some mac and cheese, I slept curled up in my nest. I can't see myself when I'm asleep, but I imagine it was a pretty adorable sight. During my sleep, I had a pretty unusual dream. Before I start on the dream, I'd just like to go ahead and say that I have already turned over my testicles to the proper authorities. Apparently, I won't be needing them, according to this dream.

So I was on this bus. I was just minding my own business, but there was this guy a few seats in front of me playing some kind of hand-held game really loudly. I could see people getting pretty pissed off so I went and sat by him and said something like, "Hey man, there are people trying to study. Could you turn it down a little? You know, before they get mad?" Pretty diplomatic, I thought. He turned it down and I went back to my seat. Then this woman sat next to me. She said, "I really like what you did there. Will you walk me home?" I said ok and we made our way to the front of the bus. I figured she was either going to kill me or touch my dong. Both were fine since I was going to do one of the two to myself anyway. As the bus stopped and the doors opened, I glanced at the driver. It was Mrs. Carouthers, my school bus driver. I hadn't seen her since high school about eight or nine years ago. I said hi and she kind of frowned. I was puzzled, but moved on 'cause...you know...the dong touching thing.

So I get off the bus with this woman and she looks at me and says, "Will you carry this beehive?" and she hands me an empty glass jar. Makes no sense, right? It's a dream. I don't get it either, but I carried it. We walked down the road for a little while and we eventually came to this huge beehive with a door. I know...no fucking clue. She invites me inside. Once inside, she starts taking her shirt off. That's when I looked at her and said, "You know, I really should go back and tell Mrs. Carouthers thanks for all the times she took me home. I don't think I've ever said thanks."

And that, my friends, is where the dream ended. Apparently I would rather tell a 60-year-old bus driver thank you for doing her job than have crazy honeycomb sex with some dream lady.

I woke up shortly after. It was a little after 5 am. I was pissed and perplexed all at the same time, but I needed to go home today to get some more of my stuff, so I went ahead and left. When I got back to my hometown, I passed by my old school bus, but Mrs. Carouthers wasn't driving. It was some other lady. I don't know what all this means. Is Mrs. Carouthers still alive? People I know from home, can you find this out for me? In the meantime, I'm going to look at naked lady pictures just to make sure I haven't turned into a homo.