I dreamed several of us* were all at Weird Al’s birthday party. He had a meadow out back. Like a straight out of a Disney movie meadow. He would walk out and rub the squirrels’ bellies. A bird landed on his head, and he fed marshmallows to the deer.
Sean Sorrentino was there, but Weird Al just kept referring to him as the guy in the blue shirt. And he didn’t arrive with the other party guests, he was already outside hiding behind a rock when we got there. He popped up from behind the rock and all the little animals ran away. He bumped into a shelf which knocked a squirrel and a chipmunk into the pond, which annoyed the beaver.
We ate brisket with chips and salsa, no birthday cake. Michael insisted on carefully arranging the chips on our plates for “maximum salsa infiltration.” He then applied the salsa with a ladle.
At no point did Weird Al wish me a happy birthday, which is awful rude considering that if it was his birthday then it was my birthday too, yeah.
*And you were there…