the strange dreams came back...  grohl took on a multitude of shapes and forms, each one more bewildering than the last.  is this what had come of our friendship, after all these long years?  i could hardly remember the dreams after waking, except for brief flashes and disconnected images.  dave screaming in the dark with no eyes, dave staring in disbelief at his own third arm, dave in drag with fake braces...  and yet even after seeing all of this i'm still proud to eat turkey bacon and sing karaoke with him.  true bro love is exempt from the rules, a bond that cannot be broken by a mere series of phantasms and night terrors.  if this is the price of being best friends with dave grohl then it is a price i pay gladly.