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Me: God DAMN. He's even retarded in my dreams.
Me: We were all (you too, honey~) in this preschool class-looking setting and I was hosting a game of some thing where you lay on the right colors (not Twister). A whole bunch of people were playing, one of which was LOLIRAWSUMSNIPERZFUCKEDMATTMCPHERSON Jon.
Me: The biggest block is green, and HURR CAMO GUESS WHAT HE PICKS?
Me: I'm stuck with the itty bitty yellow piece which is a square about the size of my hand.
Me: Now I'm cramped as with the rest of the people playing, and once it's time to clean up everyone gets up and helps but he's still laying here. "Would you hurry up and help?" I ask.
Me: He gets up and like it's the most irritating thing in the world, he picks up a whole bunch of dice and little pieces and dumps them into the box. He then stops. "All of it." I tell him, and he scoops up more and slowly plops it in, to the point where some fall out from the shock of some coming in.
Me: I have him on the ground picking up what he dropped as well as the stuff he missed and I say, "Would you hurry up?"
Me: He says with his stupid chin strap and AC/DC baseball cap, "Jesus, I'm going as fast as I can." I then proceed to get my rage face on because he's taking his sweet time on purpose.
Me: "Well I'm sorry you're a fuckwit." I then say, up in his face. He immediately begins playing the part, tilting the rectangular half of the cardboard box I was holding onto so that pieces fall out, all at the same time with one corner lifted up to his ear so he can hear the sound it makes when he rustles the box.
Me: I try and grab it back from him but OH NO, even in my dreams I am nowhere near as strong as this dumbfuck. He grabs it out of my hands and begins bending the box into a U-shape, trying to snap it in half. You then assist me in taking it away from him, and you start to clean up while I begin to grab his nose with one set of fingers and mouth in the other and pry it open like a vertical face-goatse.
Me: He slips away and I get onto the counter right next to the windowsill that he's backed against and try to slap him, but he either partially dodges it or his large skull wrapped around his tiny brain doesn't notice it.
Me: I then wake up slapping the air in front of me.

I wrote this for Mike to see as he signs on, and at the time I wrote it I'd just woken up and I was pissed. As I reread it now, I'm laughing my ass off.