I stayed up too late last night and I'm up way too early this morning. But in those 4 meager hours of sleep, I had no less than 4 dreams. I'm very foggy right now so pardon my incoherence.
For your enjoyment, here's a brief description of each (oh, and contrary to what the experts say, I do dream in color):
Dream 1 - I went to a rock concert with 15,000 others and my mentally challenged friend Hagar was the drummer. He has Down's Syndrome. The other band members had different disabilities too but the band rocked their asses off. The only problem was that they were awful! But everyone loved 'em (especially their big hit- I Love Paste) because they overcame. At the climax of the show a flash pod went off and the bassist (blind guy who looked like my brother) caught on fire and the sight of everyone trying to put it out all "keystone cops style" was hilarious!
Dream 2 - I find myself at the home of the beautiful waitress at the East Indian buffet restaurant I go to regularly and I'm in the midst of meeting her family for an arranged marriage. We break out into song and dance and I do alot of things like hide behind a book case, peak my head out, smile and do that dance move that looks like I'm serving a pizza. We never got around to consummating the marriage.
Dream 3 - Suddenly I'm afloat atop acloud and my hair is very long and my skin is Jade. I've got a tortilla shell in one hand and a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger in the other (not a figurine but the actual pink one) and I'm singing a song that I can't quite remember but I'm almost sure it was by Supertramp. I fall off the cloud and suddenly I'm in a dark room and a giant midget walks into a spotlight and starts doing stand-up comedy. Not jokes, but the Michael Richards rant where he used the N - word and got himself in trouble. Then I'm sitting on a chair-naked, and I arch my back (just like in Flashdance) and 3 tons of spaghetti falls an me. End.
Dream 4 - I'm watching my wife have sex with another man and they're very into it. Then I go back to sleep and dream again. Here it is: I'm writing the great American novel but it's in Russian, and while I'm typing, J. Edgar Hoover breaks my door down. He's wearing an Angora sweater and fishnet stockings. He's got a giant cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth and he's got a machine gun. He yells at me "Die Pinko!" and sprays the room with bullets. I get hit multiple times but each bullet hit tickles and I giggle just like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. BAM - "Hoo hooo!" Then I wake up and my wife is kissing her boyfriend goodbye.
Prolly see ya in the New Year!
Mr. Winkie
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
all of em are really interesting but im gonna have to say dream 3 takes the cake.
the flashdance and spaghetti bit..
In retrospect, I can't decide if it was a dream or just my nudity and food fetish desire slippin a subconcious thought in there. Maybe both, who knows.
Post a Comment