I was thinking of something funny the other night; That an injured, blinded, animal will lash out at everything around it.

Well, that isn't funny. What was that funny thing I was thinking of then?

Maybe it was one of my dreams. I enjoy dreaming, it is one of my hobbies. One dream I remember vividly...

I was sitting at home and the doorbell rings. I go to answer it, but no one is there. What is there is a large brown box. I check the address; it's to the right house. But I haven't ordered anything from anywhere! Out of curiosity I open the top flaps. Like an S&M Jack-in-the-Box, out springs this midget. She is clad in some kind of leather bikini thing. I recognize her from the Howard Stern show (which I had seen part of before I fell asleep that night.) She looks at me, smiling expectantly and I just gape at her, goggle-eyed.

There had to have been some mistake. I am certain I would have remembered ordering...her.

I check the return address and it is from a Fascinations-type store that actually isn't too far away from where I live. In a flash of genius, I decide to carry the box, midget and all, back to the store to clear up this whole mess. So I trot down the street carrying the box with Bridget (her real name) sticking out like some perverse Oscar the Grouch, just looking around and waving at people like she is really enjoying herself. I turn into the parking lot of the adult shop and step into a war zone.

There are protestors everywhere. Helicopters are buzzing overhead and every news channel from 6 to 60 is there with reporters on the scene to cover a mass protest by various groups against the newly-opened adult store. I nervously pick my way through the crowd towards the entrance of the place. As I am about to step inside, all the cameras zero in on me and a phalanx of microphones is shoved into my face. Bridget keeps smiling and waving. There is a droning silence. I blink furiously as I am blinded by bright lights. A bead of sweat trickles down my face. It seems an eon before I finally manage to utter weakly:

"Um, she isn't mine."

Then all Hell breaks loose.

A milliion questions erupt at me, the helicopters hover just overhead, papers and debris come out of nowhere and start flying about, flashbulbs start popping, and Bridget is still smiling and waving...

I hurl the box away from me and run.

The only sound I hear is an indignant shout from Bridget before I am far, far, away.

Funny, huh?

If anyone knows anything about interpreting dreams, I'm listening.