And Then Mrs. Clinton Shaved My Head

I Dream of Barack:

I was back in College. Barack was a professor. It was Thanksgiving weekend, and Barack was organizing an Orphan's Thanksgiving for all of us who had no where else to go. It became a really huge production. People were abandoning their plans with their families in order to go to Barack's house. I was put in charge of writing thank-you notes and baking the pies (I had explained to Barack how my family always made key lime pie for Thanksgiving). Over dinner, Barack described Illyrian architecture. When I woke, I wondered, Is there such a thing as Illyrian architecture?

It was very strange. Usually I just dream about my teeth falling out.

I Dream of Hillary:

Hillary was at my house, although it didn't look like anywhere I have actually lived. I had her rest on the couch, and her hair turned white like Bill's! I went off to look for my honeymoon photos to show her, and my husband was telling me where they were, except it wasn't my present husband -- it was the voice and body of my first husband. EWW.

Go surf for yourself. There's ever so much more.

If there is sufficient popular demand, we will initiate a web site to which you may submit your dreams of the Gentleman Farmer. Illustrated, if possible. Moving pictures will be accepted.