In the cluttered old bookstore I see a box of issues of the Economist, my favorite newsweekly. It's next week's issue, they have it already! Although I subscribe, I want to pick a copy up to read now. The clerk refuses me: "Those early issues are only for bloggers".
I'm being pestered by drunken little men who keep singing beer hall songs. I throw a pillow at them! When I wake up, the pillow is in fact across the room. No gnomes, hungover or otherwise, are evident.