I keep having the same repetitive dream every Thursday night, but I don't know what it means, or if it even means anything.
I'm walking on the beach during a sunset. I look up to watch the sun's many beatiful colors, and my feet begin to get cold. I assume it's a wave at first, but when I look down I'm walking on ice. I look around, and I'm on a small iceberg surrounded on all sides by the ocean. The sun has turned into a large wall clock at this point. A walrus hauls himself onto the iceberg and flops toward me. He looks strangely like Sherlock Holmes. "Right this way Mr. Kennedy," he says motioning with a flipper toward a 1970's car that's pulled up beside us. Inside is John Lenin who offers me an autograph, pulling out a pen in the shape of a double-helix. Just as I'm about to climb in, the car turns into a banana, which is abruptly injested by the walrus. The walrus, now fatter than ever, flops his way back into the ocean without a word. I sit down, suddenly heart shadderingly lonely. I contimplate jumping in after the walrus, but that'll surely spell death, and I can see from the sun-clock that it's already been an hour since he left. Suddenly, a giant bar of Irish Spring Soap falls from the sky, and breaks a 10 foot hole in the iceberg, that has now become the Titanic. It begins to sink, and the last thought that dominates my mind before I'm swallowed up into the icy ocean, and waking up wide eyed, gasping for breath, with a racing heart, is "Why can't we all just agree on a pronunciation for the word 'tomato'?"
Just recently, the answer to that question has occured to me. Some people think it'd make more sense if it rhymed with 'potato', and some think it'd just confuse things further.