I was walking by the the diving board near my mom's pool. I nearly turned my ankle in a hole. I hole I determined was a groundhog hole. My parents are plagued with groundhogs. I do what ever it was I was doing and on the way back I pass the hole again. This time I hear sounds coming from the hole so I am going to fill it with the bricks and rocks I see nearby and trap the nasty little sucker in his hole. As I approach the hole I think there is a cat in there. I peer over the edge ready for a wild cat to come bounding out of the hole and scratch my eyes out and see there is a newborn human baby in there. So I take the baby out of the hole. I am trying to convince Bill that we are to keep this baby because clearly the mom didn't want him and now he's here and see God gave him to us. I nursed the baby and the baby settled down. Bill wanted to call the police and report finding the baby but I would have no such thing. I was coming up with a plan to pass of this baby as my own. So next thing you know I am at the liquor store near the Clinton Rite Aid to pick up a bottle of wine bc we are having someone over for dinner. Only its not the liquor store. It is but it isn't. Its like a liquor store I have never been in before in my life, because they sell locally brewed stuff only and handcrafted items and most things are on round tables of old dark wood throughout the store. No refridgerator cases or anything else that you normally see in a liquor store. I see these bottles of strawberry wine atop a mahogany table. There are two brands. One bottle is 19.99 and the other is 39.99. I am wondering what the difference is that could make a bottle of wine twice as expensive, especially since they are both locally brewed from local strawberries and neither is labeled as organic. My brain starts to hurt and so I look at the handcrafted item in the basket under the table. Knitted gloves. There is another customer looking at them and her and I both reach for the same pair. She gets ugly. I tell her she can have the gloves. She gives me a major whooping. I call 911 from my cell. I have her by the sleeve and won't let her go before the police arrive. When they do the store is completely transformed. All the liquor tables are gone and the shop is mostly empty. The first aid responder that is checking me out says we will have you out of here in no time because I didn't say anything to anyone about the assault rifles in the basement.
Conclusion: this is apparently what happens when I eat boneless buffalo wings at 9:30 at night.