This is a dream I dream where I was Fred Flintstone trapped in a George Jetson world. The entire dream is here more or less with some embellishment.

The bed tilts me onto a conveyor belt that whisks me into the shower. Along the way, a vacuum sucks off my nightshirt; spigots open and shower me luxuriously. I stand naked and cold and dazed. Then a mechanical arm brushes my teeth. Afterwards a blow dryer blows me with a mechanical smile. I shave. Continue reading