So last night I go through my usual ritual before hitting the sack and I noticed that my 40 wasn't where I thought I left it. I found it in the living room on the table, so I picked it up and placed it in the night stand where it usually sleeps. I was having an SMS convo with Larry about holsters and my sleep aid took over and I was down for the count really fast. About 11 oclock, I rolled out of the bed and landed really hard onto the floor. I remember saying thos little furry ba$#&rds under my breath as I got up to go take a leak and get back in bed. I dreamt that I had gone up into the attic to pull down some heaters and a baby squirrel and skunk had my 2 favorite handguns pointed at me. Squirrel says to the skunk, "should we drop em?" Skunk says, "lets!" They both shoot at me and I fell out of the attic opening, narrowly escaping the flying lead. That's when I hit the floor. It's a darned good thing those critters are piss poor shots because I hardly ever get visitors and my corpse would probably go undiscovered for quite a while because of the cold weather. I have no idea what that dream meant, but I'm not taking any chances. Anyone want to volunteer to climb up into my attic? LMAO
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