Why Leonard Nimoy?!

Just woke up from a crazy dream...

In it my wife, a couple friends, and I all piled into my car for a road trip. We drove and drove to get to our destination...Leonard Nimoy's house, since we were joining him in attending a concert. We arrived just in time as Leonard was finishing up washing his pimped-out, rolling-on-20s, 1964 El Camino with a sick purple with purple flames paint job.

"Nice Car, Leonard," I hollered as we pulled up.

"Fo sheezy," shouted Leonard, supplying us with one of his wide grins. We parked behind his ride and got out to greet our host. After grabbing our stuff from the car we went inside his house, and he let us get cleaned up and changed. After we were ready, we found Leonard in the living room, pouring tall glasses of booze and splitting up pills. At first hesitant to partake, Leonard coaxes us to imbibe, and we all down our allotment of pills and sticky-sweet liquor.

"Thy drugs are quick," I mutter as I feel a nod coming on.

"And thus, with a kiss, we go!" shouts Leonard and we all pile into cars and head to the concert. As the blocks pass by, the world shifts and goes blurry. The next thing I remember, I'm curled up in the bed of Leonard's El Camino, my wife next to me, neither of us remembering a bit of the night before. We search and search for Leonard, but cannot find him anywhere. After finally finding our friends passed out inside Leonard's house, we learn that they had pretended to take their pills and the night was a nightmare fiasco involving brawls, bouncers, and cops.

After debating about whether we should bail Leonard out of jail, we decide instead to get our stuff and go home.

Sorry, Leonard.