So last night I dreamed
that I was doing the back stroke through pink, vanilla-flavored frosting, only
stopping to take a bite now and then. Colored sprinkles were like flotation
devices, and white, fluffy cake resembled a trampoline.
Then my alarm went off and reality hit like a giant trough of unflavored oatmeal. Bye bye frosting. So long sprinkles (or jimmies, or hundreds-and-thousands, etc.).
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