Dreamt I was sent by invisible gods to a small but dense town surrounded by a wooden fence. I was given a skinny, two-storey wooden house. But I was afraid to go in there because the electricity didn't work, the walls and floor were covered with faeces and other bits of garbage, and in its little halls lit by shafts of sunlight through the slats of wood, there dwelt a naked daemon girl with claws.
So I hung around town, mainly outside the Del Taco across the street from the house. But I was afraid to enter the Del Taco because I felt like I used to hang out there a long time ago, before my daemon-girl house had been built.
I guess it wasn't really a nightmare. I was just afraid.
Last night I watched The Grass is Greener starring Cary Grant, Deberah Kerr, Jean Simmons, and Robert Mitchem. It was good, although not near as clever as it thought it was. And I really can't buy that a woman would even think of choosing Robert Mitchem over Cary Grant.
After decades of playing Americans, here Grant was given opportunity to play an Englishman. But he wasn't able to shake his odd not-quite-English-not-quite-American accent anyway. Still love him, though.
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