Pink Floyd and I are cruising in a
tour bus through Europe, driving towards
Edge City, no doubt. We stop and set up, play a set, and move on. It's always the same:
Stop, Play, Move, and
we don't know where we are. Occasionally we
rock the ghanj. I mention that I have a final at 11:30, and no one is concerned, me least of all. I
dose off...
And I wake up in a Winnebago, in Lawrence, on campus, with Terry Gilliam and the remainder of Monty Python. We all know I have a final in three hours, whick gives us just enough time for a road trip through England...
Driving as we are through post-war Europe, and we hear sirens. At this point I'm worried about the driver pulling over, but he obstructs the entire road. Eventually he comes to a stop, and the Nazi-Mobile comes to a stop behind us.
Here come the Germans
What do we
do? At that moment
Monty Python and I mobilize, and we prepare to fight them (head on) with our
searing wit. And of course they are no match, for
we confuse them with words and befuddle them with absurd ideas.
Time becomes important
'What time is it?' It is 10:30, with an hour to spare, but I'm worried on how I'm going to get back to...
My bed, where I wake up to my alarm clock blaring the fact that it is now 10:30, and I have a final in an hour (and just enough time for this node).
Surreal