I have no idea what this means, but maybe I should consider voting for Barack

I had a dream last night that Hillary Clinton and George W. Bush were having a secret love affair, and for some reason, I was sharing a one-bedroom apartment (and comically-oversized bed) with the two of them. So, at some point, they want to get freaky, and I have to stomp out of the bedroom in a huff.

Next thing I know, I’m in the kitchen frying bacon (because what ELSE do you do when two of the nation’s most formidable political superpowers are making the beast with two backs in your apartment?) and suddenly, Bill Clinton comes bursting in, all “WHERE ARE THEY?” and I gesture toward the bedroom with my spatula. As he’s heading toward the scene of the crime, I ask him to please not hurt anyone or break anything. He turns to me and starts laughing his ass off.

“Sweetie, I ain’t gonna hurt nobody,” he says. “I just wanna see what the hay-ull this looks like.”

And then he starts hitting on me.

I really need to stop watching so much CNN.