Signifying nothing

I just woke up from three consecutive dreams: 1) An old girlfriend and I are having dinner in my childhood home. Out the kitchen window a hearse passes by. We start up from the table in shock, only to see that an undertaker who looks like Jim from The Office is knocking at the door. 2) I am conducting a cake walk (with a giant white cake as a prize) for what I think are washed up 70's TV stars. It is difficult to tell because every time I try to get a good look at them, I fuck up the record player and they all sit down quickly. The music is a variety of Guy Lombardo, The Smiths, and unrecognizable generic 70s pop rock. There is a little person competing in the cake walk and he swears at me. At one point, I decide that I hate the record I am playing and look for another in the cabinet beneath the record player. I find a broken copy of a Guy Lombardo 78 which I apparently purchased on eBay. Tired of waiting, Farah Fawcett grabs the cake and runs out the door. 3) I am on t...

So I'm standing across from my abode waiting for the bus to go downtown to the Depot to see Apples in Stereo and a car suddenly pulls up. I'm thinking that it is someone visiting the grandma who lives by the bus stop, but no. Out of the car pops a regular looking joe who asks "are you a blogger?" "Uh, yes," I reply flicking my cigarette, feeling slightly self conscious about smoking, feeling that this fine upstanding citizen does not need to see me smoking. "Theorris?" "Yes." "I'm Capital Carnage . I recognized you from your picture." The wookie picture? Oh wait, I've posted various pictures of my fine visage over the years, I guess. How odd, I think, wondering about the logistics of this chance happening. A car. A person waiting for a bus. A person driving a car. Said person notices a fellow blogger. Said person pulls over. It doesn't necessarily add up, but I'll go with the flow, particularly since I'...