"Drinking Voltaire's Tea in the Hinterlands of Chile.* Clearly, this movie is an experience we all share. The search for meaning has never been more complete than on the morning commute. Well sir I can hear you're breaking up so I will remind you we're <coffee place> and an offer to sell to you again can be constructed at ALL the expected parking lots." *I actually remember as I awoke, that I could make out the words of the title of the vaunted movie. I had never heard of it, and it didn't sound applicable in any way. My dream self was racking his brain for how they made an idiom out of it, or what it would mean if it was properly applied here. Whatever the name was, it may have been a few syllables shorter than I've presented here but ... not by much. *2 Also, that line after the title was the part I remember clearly. "'Clearly this movie is an experience we all share' ... really? Even people who haven't seen it? Who ride a bike to work? Who don't drink coffee? Every member of an average family of four would think about the time Voltaire visited Chile and steeped a pot of tea, when they're trying to find some breakfast before the rat-race overruns them?''
Close-mown lawns and something akin to a school building ahead, the road dead-ended, but gave options. There were no sign of residences to either left or right, and still nothing looked familiar. I calld my contact -- it wasn't specified who it was, and said "I'm climbing a hill, and don't know where to go to drop off Chantel's hairbrush." real-world, I had a neighbor, sort of, named Chantel. Actually she was the neighbor's girlfriend, but she spoke English and he did not, so we had several conversations during the two-ish years I knew of her. I don't even know what her hairbrush would look like, having never handled or even seen it. My waking mind tried asking the script-writer if this was a reference to Vegie Tales, "Pharoh where-oh, is my hairbrush" which I likewise have never experienced but know of its existance. There was no answer on this point. "okay." Turn nearly forced upon me, dream nearly ended, this was the crux of frustration. The tone my friend/contact used clearly indicated the conversation was over. This was not the okay of "Oh are you there already I'll need to look it up!" Not even the confused okay of "Wait why are you driving the car she'll be walking, at the bottom of that ridiculous hill." But the okay that answers "I'm on time, have the item, and am nearly there." >okay.
No, Princess Luna, this is not okay. There is no aspect of this dream that does not want me to find benedryl, re-enter the dream just so I can find you and strangle the ever living daylights out of you. Maybe if daylight stopped living in you, you would be able to concentrate on your nighttive job of writing decent dream scripts? >This is post is an experience we all share. Indeed, everypony has already experienced this post and is reliving it as they read your words. >Truly, there is nothing more universal than 9gag talking about coffee-drinks.
