Only I would have a dream in which my rescuer from a man torturing me (that turned into me kicking said torturer's ass) would be Jesus Christ. And I was polite but firm in thanking Our Lord and Saviour, but no, I was not interested in becoming a devout Christian, ever, despite the fact he had just saved me.
Then I got to make a grand entrance into a tavern on a Santa sleigh, wearing a chain outfit made by my darling that at this point is only theoretical, in order to get pished with Jack Sparrow and shock some poor Indian bartender by my lack of dress.
Yep. My dreams are on crack.
Fin.
Then I got to make a grand entrance into a tavern on a Santa sleigh, wearing a chain outfit made by my darling that at this point is only theoretical, in order to get pished with Jack Sparrow and shock some poor Indian bartender by my lack of dress.
Yep. My dreams are on crack.
Fin.
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