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Yow. I just had a complicated dream involving Pee Wee Herman, a series of really bizarre quests ("Find the grave of the Bicycle King!" "Kill the marauding Darklion!") me being an occasionally-disembodied ghost who was supposed to be helping Pee Wee, a male romantic lead who was short, blond, rangerish and missing part of his soul for unexplained reasons, and a few really hot moments (yes, I did blow off finding the grave of the Bicycle King in order to get laid. I have priorities, and if you're only occasionally embodied, you gotta take advantage of your corporeal moments.)

Just as it was building nicely--"I'm off to kill the Darklion! I'll come back for you!" "Woot!"--and it looked like we'd get the final apocalyptic battle scene, Pee Wee would slink back to his playhouse in disgrace, and possibly there would be celebratory corporeality afterwards--there was a knock on the door.

I woke up, staggered out of bed, signed for my new iPod, realized that I was never getting that dream back, and got up instead.


I recall the dialog being really romantic, but what I recall of it specifically was just completely nonsensical, which leads me to suspect that romance in dreams is like art in dreams--your brain is not generating either great art or romance, it is generating the sensation of having been exposed to it. Which is an interesting thought.

And now I have to go play with my iPod for awhile.

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. . . Rangerish? Like, PARK rangerish, or wear-a-brightly-colored-spandex-suit-and-make-robot-tyranasaurs-to-fight-evil-SPACE-robots rangerish?

Like D&D class, light armor, track & field, pick-a-favored-enemy ranger.

I got it as a D&D class right away, but now that aysquid pointed it out, I'm going to have a hard time not picturing rangers in game as having little badges, off-green forester hats and really funky white space boots.

Next time I play a ranger, I'm totally going to demand to see someone's catch record. "Now, sir, you realise that killing more than twenty kobolds in a day is illegal? Besides, that one was NOT over 24 inches - you should have thrown it back."

*snorts tea out nose*

I'm afraid as my groups resident ranger, I'd be the one most likely to be over limit.

Well, except for when our bard pulls out her morning star. Yeesh, you give a halfling a morning star and she thinks she's a barbarian.

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