I've got to stop pumping gas...

I've got to stop getting gasoline late at night... I had the wierdest dream

The tiger in my tank GOT OUT and started chasing me around the pumps. I tried to fight him off with a stick, but then I thought, oh crap this is the stick I got the short end of.

The tiger then tried to convince me that HE was the one with the short end of the stick... He kept biting pieces of it off and saying "See?"...

At some point I must have realized I was dreaming because I tried to morph him into Tony the Tiger, the innocuous cereal-box cat, but he was having none of that. Maybe it was a pretty flaky idea. Anyway, I woke up before getting mauled in my sleep.

Perhaps this dream has something to say about the oil industry, if you ignore the Freudian aspects of it. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

_

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