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Corn Flakes: Monday And The Fart Police Are Coming For Me

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Because cheerleader.
Because cheerleader.
Steven Branscombe-USA TODAY Sports

I have, ah... amazing dreams. Most of them are very violent. I'm constantly being chased, shot at, shooting at someone, it goes on. That old adage about dying in your dreams and dying in real life, well, that isn't true. I can't remember how many times I've died. Falling, being shot, hit by trucks, you name it.

I fell off a skyscraper one time, hit the ground, then waited a few moments and got up all bloody, wondered why I wasn't dead, and then kept on running. Once in a dream I did the same thing but bounced, and then just kept bouncing for blocks.

On Saturday night, I had two dreams.

The first was very complex and I don't remember most of it, honestly. I remember the planet (not Earth) was at peril. The planet was surrounded by a field, resembling a moat. We were supposed to go out and figure out how to penetrate the field, but we discovered that the gravity around the field was like a black hole, the gravitational pull would kill all of us.

I told the people in charge of the mission that we would all die. Their response was - "Well, what are you waiting for? Why don't you go ahead and die, then?"

They were very put off by my hesitation. I wasn't afraid to die. I was perturbed that they were willing to give up so easily.

I don't remember the complexities of the first dream because it was quickly replaced by the second.

In the second dream, I was back living in Schramm. I lived in Schramm for two years, my first two years at the University of Nebraska. I was there again, but none of my old college friends were with me. It was as if I were 18 again, but with a whole new group of guys, but there was a problem.

The dorm smelled bad.

So bad that they enlisted a fart police force and that fart police force determined that my dorm floor was the worst smelling floor. Then they determined that I was the worst offender on my dorm floor.

It started innocent enough. Some guy farted, and a guy in a uniform gave him a ticket.

Then they started using smell dogs, tracing the most horrid scent to Schramm 6, the thinking being - "if only we get rid of the problem on Schramm 6, we will be okay."

Next thing you know, there was an angry mob right outside my dorm door. They were pounding and screaming. They wanted to kill me. They screamed hurtful things.

Stop farting so much!

You and your farting are costing us so much money!

Why don't you stop eating so much broccoli!

The pounding and crashing at the door grew louder and louder as more and more people were screaming and throwing themselves at the door. The room was dark. I was trying to hide.

The door started to break. I could tell because shards of light shown through where it was starting to collapse.

More yelling. More light streaming in.

Then I woke up.

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If proved true, the Patriots could be docked draft picks.

Oh no. Not docked draft picks.

Between the fart police and deflated balls, this might be the start of the best week EVER!!!!