Ever wake up after what was clearly a sweet dream, only to recall a freshly wiped chalkboard and a full wine glass? Whats up this morning. Thanks for coming out.
So lets lay it out. Fell asleep fairly late, but hit the hay like a sack of potatoes and fell right into what was to be a beautifully eventful dream (likely rampant with Monopod's, Hobgoblin's, guys named Apollo, and gem encrusted goblets of mead). But what do I have to show for being privy to these (potential) epic battles and cheery longhouse gatherings? A fucking chalkboard. Could there have at least been a hint written on the chalkboard as to what joyous and feverish events had taken place? Nope, some asshole had to come and wipe it clean. Probably within five minutes of my waking up. I am finding this guy tonight, and slaying him with The Sword of Peleus.
-acorned
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