I sleep heavily. So heavy I don’t usually remember my dreams. Last night, lying on the mattress at my parents’ house, I must have been drifting in and out of REM sleep, because I was having a great dream. I had been invited to join the Queens of the Stone Age on their next tour, and I was at their practice space, a huge cavernous warehouse of some kind. We played a set of songs, and I remember being nervous but getting into the groove. Then we took a break, and naturally it was time to get high. Of course, Dave Grohl was there, and he had a TITANIC amount of weed (curiously, in the shape of hop pellets, don’t ask me why) and he gave me a bunch to carry, because his hands were full, and then some water fell from a leak in the ceiling and got Dave Grohl’s handful all wet and they made fun of him, and then we got REALLY, REALLY HIGH with the stuff I had and we began playing again. And I got completely paranoid that I wasn’t in the pocket anymore and that I was playing badly (note: all that weed didn’t affect QotSA or Dave Grohl at all) and that they would tell me to leave, but I was able to get into the groove, and then I woke up.