So, I dreamed I knew The Monkees, and they (as young fellas) got booked at a biker bar in the South by an agent. I had to tell them it was a biker bar, and although I know some bikers who like the Monkees, this was likely not that kind of group. Their Agent told them it was a much different venue. The mister said “You know the Monkees?” I said “Oh, sure, I used to talk to them on the phone all the time.” So, while I was getting ready to tell them the clientele was not young teenie bopper girls, I was distracted by something in my daughter’s old room. I went in to find someone running out in this costume….wearing a furry stuffed animal head, with some sort of pillow case attached to where you could not see the arms. This person took off out the door, so I went to find him/her. Only thing I found was some dogs running loose in another neighborhood. A collie, a greyhound and a spaniel. When I got home, my sister Trish was here with tacos and flowers to take to a cemetery. And we were out of mountain dew.