The subconscious, and Lindz

I had a dream last night that I was driving Lindsay Lohan around. She seemed to be uncomfortable, or perhaps on the run from something. I remember trying to comfort her, as I brought her inside some stranger's house -- which was either her destination or, at least, a safehouse.

I tried to calm her on the edge of a bed, and I sensed something distinctly uncomfortable from her in regards to my affections. She seemed to be open to them, but not quite trusting of me. I felt on the edge of care and arousal. She laid down on the bed, and I walked away from the tableau and into the next part of my dream -- meeting up with my Janice. This became a new predicament, because I felt guilty for making an affectionate pass at Lindsay Lohan. However, I rationalized it to her by saying that Lindz is my one free-celebrity-fuck pass. She seemed to buy that.

Janice was also wearing a brand-new, immaculately tailored tweed suit, of unknown origin.