I just had a dream in which I was driving along a really steep cliff on the west coast.  I lost control and got jettisoned action-movie-style out of the Cavalier as it plummeted to it’s rocky death below (sorry, Silver Bullet).  I had forgotten that Corona was in the car, but she somehow survived the fiery wreck and rescuers handed her to me swaddled in a blanket.  She started biting me resentfully and so I let her go and said fuck it.

Next thing I know, I’m at the Playboy mansion.  I’m not sure how I got there or why, but I remember looking in my suitcase and realizing I hadn’t planned for the visit, so I didn’t have anything nearly “slutty” enough. I borrowed some clothes from Girl-Next-Door Bridget, because she was the closest to my size. We were the only people in the room with natural boobs; we celebrated this fact.  There was a small party that night in which I drank champagne and danced with the Bridget, Kendra, and Holly.  We got along smashingly.

The next morning at breakfast table, Hef and Barbie Benton offered me a position with Playboy in their promotions department.  I accepted, then went to the beach with Bridget.  Somehow, we were in Jamaica, and danced in a huge circle with all these Jamaican men.  I was getting a sunburn, so we decided to head up to this beach house.  When we stepped inside, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt were doing yoga.  I freaked out, then woke up.