I had this dream the other night, involving my old roommate Brian. If you know Brian, it makes this dream better. If you don't know Brian… well, it doesn't really matter.
So Brian buys a cow. Like a farm, milking cow.
Where does he get it? Why does he do such a thing? The dream doesn't bother to answer these pressing questions; it simply begins with him driving it home in one of those horse trailers, hooked to the back of his pickup truck.
It's a huge trailer, like for twelve horses, despite the fact that he only bought one cow. The dream doesn't bother to explain this either.
On the way home, Brian loses control and drives off this rural highway he's on, and into a hot air balloon field.
Somehow, the trailer gets tangled up with one of the hot air balloons, and is lifted off into the sky, with the cow in it. Not the pickup truck or Brian, though.
Meanwhile, nearby at NASA (?), some of the mission control guys are goofing around and not paying attention as a gasoline truck loses control and drives into the base of one of their rockets, preparing for launch in a few days.
As the rocket slowly tips over, somehow the engines ignite and the rocket takes off, at a 30% angle, heading toward a nearby hot air balloon field…
By an amazing chance of angles, the rocket (which is really long and skinny), spears right through the middle of Brian's cow trailer, like a sword into a sheath.
The cow, miraculously, is not hit, and merely becomes a passenger on this rocket/trailer/hot air balloon ride as the whole mess hurtles into the thermosphere and completes several orbits around the earth.
Somehow, the cow makes it down safely, and Brian decides to keep it, despite the fact that the cow is now heavily radioactive (?), and incredibly dangerous to the health of any humans who comes near it.
This is a problem, because Brian is going to keep the cow in his guest room. But Brian doesn't care; as he says to me in the dream: "That whole thing was so cool, I can't NOT keep it."
The dream skips to six months later. I see Brian at a party, and he looks incredibly sick and shaky, and most of his hair has fallen out. But he's happy. I ask him how he's doing, and he replies (and I quote this directly from the dream: I wrote it down when I woke up): "Things are OK, I guess. I get sick a lot, and I can't really eat or drink much anymore, but I'm OK. We all make decisions in life, and I think this one was for the best."
And all of us at the party nodded, and agreed that this was so.
I swear, no more crack before bedtime. None.