How This Blog Got it's Name

So, The title in full of this particular post is "How this Blog got its Name, or: My Incredibly Fucked Up Dreams."  What am I talking about? Allow me to illuminate...

There was a day in the not too distant past where I was sitting around in my house thinking about a name for this blog.  I couldn't come up with one, so I finished my Heineken and went to sleep.  Well, i have recently departed from a bad relationship in which my psychotic ex and her family were your stereotypical Brooklynese Italians, and I am traumatized because I think that maybe, JUST MAYBE, this family with their mob connections and their tommy guns and their fedoras and their posh 1930's suits will drive to my house, dress me in a new wardrobe of cement, and introduce me to their piscene friends.

ANYWAY...

So I fall asleep and proceed to have the following dream:

*ringing phone*
mmmm...Hello?

Psycho-ex's dad:  I'm glad you and my daughter broke up.

Me: Uh, ok?

Him: You would have been a terrible son-in-law.

Me (surprised at this bold statement, because I think I'd make a perfectly reasonable son-in-law; I mean Jesus, it isn't like I'm Jeffrey Dahmer or Charles Manson...): Why, Good Sir, Whatsoever have I done?
-innocent stare that he can clearly see through the phone-

Him (with anger):  YOU ALWAYS WEAR YOUR PAJAMAS TO WORK!

-No, NO, I SWEAR I'VE NEVER WORN MY PAJAMAS TO WORK!!!! I PROMISE!!!

-LIES, YOU WEAR THEM TO WORK EVERY DAY!!!

-BULLSHIT!!

Me, very desperately:  look, I can call my boss, He'll tell you I've never worn my pajamas to work...

So with him on the other line I frantically begin dialing my boss.
The bastard won't pick up.
Meanwhile Psycho-Ex Father-In-Law is laughing at me, "See, he won't pick up because he knows you wear them EVERY DAY."

So now I'm getting pissed at my boss, ready to give this guy a good reaming because  he's on call, and he's supposed to be at work, and I'm about ready to murder my ex's dad when the phone starts playing music.

Well, the music is my alarm going off, so I rise and shine, and half-way through my morning shower it hits me:

I have REALLY fucked up dreams.