I had kind of a crazy dream last night. In the dream, I went to Gregs house to check on his dogs while he was on vacation. As I walked through the garage, I gazed at the boat -- and was instantly horrified. Greg had gone on some sort of crazy spree; he had sanded off all of the paint, and on the bow he had sanded back down to bare wood. On the sides he had fabricated some sort of space-age shaped add-ons that looked like the fins from a 59 Chevy on steroids. As my eyes adjusted to the horrific site, Greg nonchalantly strolled into the garage (it was a dream, remember) and casually asked me what I thought of the work hed done.
I went ballistic and woke up. Thank God it wasnt real.
I went ballistic and woke up. Thank God it wasnt real.
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