I was watching the Vagina Monologues in Karachi, Pakistan. We were almost hit with acid that was thrown by some Islamic militant as we were exiting the show.
Later that night, sleeping in my hotel room, I had a dream. I was in heaven, and all the women were wearing burqas. I woke with a start, and I gave Mads a call.
"Hey," I said. "Remember when we dressed in burqas and travelled through Taliban controlled Afghanistan?"
"How can I forget? Those things were hot as hell!"
I told him about my dream.
"Oh, I remember that in the Alannis Morrisette song," he said. "It's like going to heaven, and finding out the fundamentalists were right/ it's like meeting the man of his dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife/ and isn't ironic... dontcha think?"
"Yeah, only the second one about "the man of your dreams" isn't ironic, it's just a sucky situation."
"I got another call," Mads said. "Let me call you back." He did two minutes later. "That was the Mayor McCheese. He said your dream about heaven wasn't ironic either. God was just being McGlibb."
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