No baby on this broad

I wish I hadn’t turned around to greet my classmate when I was in town earlier. I should have listened to my instinct to keep walking, but she’s been on vacation for two weeks and I wanted to say hi. While our exchange was pleasant, her friend stood a few feet from me looking on with horrified disdain. Perhaps she was aghast at my lack of baby buggy and snivelling infant, as they had five children between them. Perhaps she was just French. Either way it put me in a downright sour mood — she infected me with her conceit for which the only cure is vanilla coke.
I just remembered my dream from last night where I pissed off a vampire and spent quite a while waiting to be bitten or killed, or I guess both. The details are fuzzy now but I had been helping him and his girlfriend, but they needed me a little longer, so it felt like hours waiting for the inevitable. We eventually went to Alaska to look at a house they wanted to remodel and I woke up before being bitten. It wasn’t so much a nightmare as it was a slow B-movie and I had run out of popcorn.

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