Strange cheese wheels are turning

In my dream last night, underneath Faith Hill’s flawless halo-self, she was a raging bitch and cut me in line and I pouted away to glaze weird pieces of pottery on a farm in Kansas where they made cheese from calves in wooden boxes and grew tomatoes that ripened in threes across a trellis.
Consult your dream books – I’m dying to know what the hell that was about!

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