Avant garde, no?

I had a dream that I was at some sort of mass wedding - don't wozz ladies and a percentage of dudes, I was not getting married myself. I was there as a wedding photographer.

I figure, where can a wedding photographer make more dough than a mass cult wedding?

Good plan!

Unfortunately, time is being controlled by a cassette player in my car. When it's playing, time flows at the regular rate we all know and love... but then it skips forward quite a bit. Suddenly I'm near the end of the dream and I don't quite know what's going on. The sky is filled with hurricanes and all the buildings have been reduced to scorched rubble. I try to go back a bit (I can't rewind, but I can move a slider and then click a button?) but I can't find exactly where I was. I opt to go back to a little bit before where I had been.

So I am arriving at this mass wedding. I figure, where can a wedding photographer make more dosh than at a mass cult wedding.

Of course, because I'm just repeating what already happened, the cassette skips forward again.

Bollocks.

This time, I figure I'll go back to just after where I was, which is a pretty good idea. The wedding is just over, and we are walking outside. This kid in a suit with a massive mullet - it goes all the way to his feet - starts punching me in the leg. I tell him to stop it, but I can't get too mad because hey, the kid has a sweet mullet.

Then his bridesmaid sister starts punching my leg too. I check for a mullet but there is none forthcoming so I tell her to quit it before I punch back.

Jeez, Dream Cam - what a total dick you are.

We get outside and the cult's PR person explains that at the end of the wedding march that we are about to take, there will be one Prime Minister John Howard. Photos with him will cost $100.

Interesting that Howard would still be PM in my dream, but maybe he wasn't and this cult - who I'm sure are into all sorts of wacky things - just call him that still. Anyway, it is at approximately this point that I woke up.

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