The other night I dreamt that I was going to marry Snoop Dogg, that loveable rapper, and the preparations and ceremony were to be broadcast on a reality TV show. I was a bit surprised to learn that I'd ever met the man, let alone had a forever kind of love with him, but I figured the show's producers and my subconscious wouldn't steer me astray, so I just went along with the proceedings.

Though I should have been far more anxious about marrying a man I didn't even know I knew, what really concerned me was what kind of hairstyle Snoop was going to sport at the wedding, and whether I would be able to keep a straight face when he unveiled his 'do. Given Snoop's penchant for Shirley Temple curls, and the likelihood of him popping a cap in my ass for laughing at him, I think you can understand my trepedation.

This, however, was really the least of my worries. It turned out that I was set to marry another man the same day, my "true" love, a brilliant young scientist with spikey blonde hair, endearingly obsessed with facts and theorums. Seems the real premise of this TV show was to see if I could pull off marrying 2 men on the same day, and how long I could live a life of blissful bigamy before it all unraveled.

I knew The Scientist was wise to the plan, and would wait for me to work things out so we could be together exclusively. His love - though awkwardly and rarely expressed - was true. For all I knew, Snoop really loved me too, but I wasn't sure he knew what was up, or that I wouldn't stand for him smacking me around once he found out the truth. I have zero tolerance for domestic violence, you know, and moreover, I bruise like a peach. So I spent the rest of the dream trying to figure out if Snoop was hip to the show's premise and avoid getting beaten or killed, all while wearing a wedding dress, with a TV crew following me. But really, who hasn't had this dream?