clowns, 7-elevens, and slurpees

The following entry was written yesterday, but couldn't be posted due to the downtime DiaryLand was experiencing last night.

Last night I had a dream about Resa, me, and a 7-Eleven. I'm fairly confident the 7-Eleven came from a commercial I saw the other day about limited edition WWF slurpee cups, but the shady, health conscientious clown, that came out of nowhere.

As Resa and I were trekking through a parking lot in pursuit of the neighboring 7-Eleven, I glanced into the window of a parked truck and noticed that there was what appeared to be a homicidal clown sneering at me, decked out in festive make-up and everything. For some reason unbeknownst to me, this didn't alarm me to the point of wetting my pants, and Resa and I continued into the 7-Eleven wordlessly. We journeyed to the opposite end of the store once inside, apparently searching for something we had planned on purchasing. Within minutes, the doors of the 7-Eleven were flung open, the bells dangling from the door handle jingling. And there, framed by the doorway and the thick blanket of the night sky beyond, was the homicidal clown, the cheery paint on his face somehow lessening the wrathful twinkle in his eyes. His sour sneer announced his intention of draining the cash registers of 7-Eleven and possibly crafting balloon animals for his hostages.

Immediately instigating a threat, the hostile clown stomped to the left and to a small produce stand, yanking a plastic bag-full of leafy green vegetables from the display. Before he could command everyone present to get down onto the floor, Resa and I fled.

I was originally planning on commenting on this dream, but now it seems as though it speaks for itself.