Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be pandering mutant amputee cowboys

Now for another glimpse into my fuct head. My fictional attorney has advised me to preface the recounting of this little episode with a few statements: "I have no earthly clue what the hell is wrong in my brain" and "With the exception of Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, I actively avoid country music". That said, this dream was about country music singer Toby Keith. Actually, that isn't entirely accurate. I think the actual dream was about something else, and the part I'm about to relate was more of a backdrop for the "real" dream. But I can't remember the particulars of the main storyline (or dreamline, if you prefer), and this is the only part that still sticks with me.

For some reason, due to a weird disease that exists only in my dreaming mind, Toby Keith’s left leg had fallen off. My slumbering subconcious decided to keep pace with today's hollow, entertainment focused "news" programming, and had public service announcements popping onto the television every five or ten minutes advising viewers about Keith’s missing leg, and pleading for a transplant donor. Apparently Toby Keith had already tried once to have a fresh transplant leg grafted on, but his body rejected it. So now doctors were looking to try again. Then they’d cut to a shot of Toby Keith hopping around onstage in a cowboy hat, an empty pant leg trailing behind him. He had a guitar shaped like a crutch. Near the end of the PSA, in what I feel was my brain's editorial about this entire Toby Keith fiasco, the camera zoomed in tightly on his face to reveal the visage of an eight year old with Downs Syndrome.

I think I may have considered donating my leg before I woke up.

I should probably be on some kind of pills.