When i think of Jason Fetz having a dream home, I often imagine it placed upon two fluffy clouds. He would ascend the stairs on the back of a beautiful butterfly and wash his hair in rainbows and morning dew. I picture a sofa made of living kittens that purred as he would curl up for a rest. He would watch the sunset from his large floor-to-ceiling bay windows overlooking a garden of gumdrops and shoe string pasta. Jason Fetz would live, love, and die in this home. It would be a jewel to carry in his chest for eternity.