Dolls = Bad.

I think my subconscious has some serious issues. I was going through some old texts that I'd sent to my best friend and found some from August of 2010. This is basically what it said.

"Dude, last night, I had a nightmare that a giant talking doll was chasing us through a city shooting laser beams from its eyes and laser beaming everyone.

It chased us into a grocery store. I went and picked up a can of peaches and was all "Yum, peaches." but then it tore off the roof and started laser beaming people so we went and hid under a rack of red pants.

The doll came into the store and was all "Is this maroon or peppermint?" and I was all "Maroon... Wait, shit." so it found us but instead of killing us with its lasers, it said thanks, took the pants and left. The whole time, police were trying to herd people to safety but we didn't want to be herded so we snuck away like ninjas. It was like the frickin' apocalypse. Doll style."

This random and fucked up dream was brought to you by my intense and irrational fear of porcelain dolls.