What’s on my mind?

This is weird. I had a dream that I was Donald Trump’s speach writer last night. And I was writing his speaches on leaves of iceberg lettuce using a dark blue fountain pen. WTF?

More usefully, I woke up around 4am remembering that the name I had just given to someone as a bitcoin expert was in fact a sci-fi writer. Wrong surname. Got to love how the brain works.

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