During a nap today, I dreamt about catching WWE superstar Daniel Bryan, buck naked and corpse pale, with a crew cut and three kitchen knives stuck in the right side of his face, passing through a commercial kitchen on his way to confront Triple H and Stephanie McMahon on stage at a performing arts centre.
I recently began logging my dreams, or what I can remember happened in them.
Previously in Jon's dreams:
I am trapped in a time loop, and a cloaked figure busts down the door of my hotel room and shoots me in the sole of my left foot with an arrow, which tunnels through skate shoe, flesh, and bone to create a glory hole.
I am at a school for invisible people, dabbing paint on my head so that it can be seen. I then pick up Chinese take-out from celebrity chef Susur Lee.