I'm home for an evening of surfing the internet while the Suze watches Trading Your First House Flip.  It's been a long day, and the incessant drone of first time home buyers leaves me sleepy...

Startled, I find myself floating.  Is this space?  Have I fallen through a wormhole? There are stars, but I thought outer space was supposed to be black.  This is so...purple...and how did I end up in this sweater vest?  I tumble aimlessly, scratching at the sudden itchiness of my neatly trimmed douche-beard, my vacant eyes reflecting the void...

From out of the depths comes a shape...what is that? Is it...it can't be...my own name in giant block letters streaking right for my head?! I try to duck out of the way but I am only able to crane my neck slightly to the side as the horrible placard strikes me in the back of the sku... 

I wake up in a start.  "Is something wrong?" the Suze asks.

"Oh, I just had the most horrible dream.  I dreamt I was an advertisement for a Blake Lewis CD."