The wierdest dream of my life.
The dream was a little different than most because I dreamed I was watching myself in a movie…which was hysterical…in which I was laughing all the way through. I must be brilliant!
So the dream starts with me helping my masseuse do her yard work. In real life, I’d stopped to help this lady change her flat one night on the side of the road…she turned out to be a massage therapist. So, back to the dream–we finish up yard work and it’s time for her to take me home. I’m dirty and sweaty a pretty much a mess, she is hot, much hotter and younger in the dream than in real life. So we go out and get on the magic swing…which is apparently the mode of transportation in dream world. It’s not a sex swing or porch swing or anything like that…it’s an old school playground swing. So we hop on, her on one, me on the other. But the links break, so the swing is broke down and now she has no way a taking me home. This leads us back into the house to discuss how I’m going to get home. Once we get back in the house she starts coming on to me a little and says, “I have some pictures I want to show you”. Her inattentive husband is in the other room entertaining some guest, so I’m kind of curious to see the pics. She hands be a stack of polaroids and says “what do you think of these?” My excitement wanes when I realize that she’s showing me pictures of the remodeling they did on their house last year. Specifically the bathroom, where the pics are so detailed one includes the serial number impressed in the porcelain of the toilet. I then start to think I was wrong about her flirting with me when all of the sudden she gives me a quick peck on the lips. Suddenly, for a brief flash, my imagination’s imagination played a trick on me and I thought she had boobs on her jowls. I’m married in real life, so in the dream I think “this probably isn’t appropriate, I’d better go”. It was only 5 miles home so I decide I’m going to jog home…through the seedy part of town. “Sure I can jog 5 miles after a hard day of yard work.” As I’m leaving the guest say “hey we’re joggers too, let’s go”. The bothers me because I’m not really a good jogger and really what I was going to do is jog until I was out of sight and walk the rest of the way. But we head off and I keep up with them around the corner until we all stop at a bar-b-q joint that also doubles as an arts magnet school where I make friends with a brilliant young female pianist. I help her make a friend and I’m off…without the other joggers. Now that the other joggers are gone I start walking and eventually decide I can catch a bus the rest of the way. So I’m on the corner waiting for the bus and catch the next one that pulls up. What I didn’t realize is that is wasn’t a city bus, but one of those party buses. This one was filled with sexagenarian swingers. I quickly analyze my surroundings and decide this bus ain’t for me. After signaling the driver, he lets me off at the next stop. I get off and say to three ladies sitting on the bench, “there’s a bunch of old hookers on that bus!” Only I didn’t realize the ladies on the bench were probably hookers too, so I was quite embarrassed. Without transportation I decide I need to stop in at the gas station across the street for some refreshments. I go in and buy some orange juice, but as I’m opening it, some cops pull up to me. Since I’m dirty and haggard from the yard work and 5 mile walk, they mistake me for a bum, take away my OJ and send me on my way. Now, I’m really feeling the ridiculousness of the situation and decide to tuck my tail between my legs and make it the rest of the way home. I didn’t realize how bad I needed that juice until I got really dehydrated and collapsed. Luckily I was only a few yards away from the hospital so I drug myself into the emergency room. The lower half of my body was incapacitated and I couldn’t talk…so I was dragging myself in with my harms and trying to mumble, “hp me, I d hydra”. This is where it gets the kookiest. Not being in the right frame of mind, I hadn’t noticed that the emergency room I drug myself into was at the psychiatric ward of the hospital. So instead of recognizing my symptoms as those of dehydration, they just thought I was some crazy kook dragging himself around making funny noises. The best I could get them to do is take blood from me…to test me for drugs.
After I wake up and write this dream down, I go back to sleep and follow it with an episode of me following around Sienfeld and heckling him in his everyday life. I’m much funnier in dream world. Next, Artie Lang, and I pull a practical joke on a local preacher and I get to shower with a stripper who’s the guest speaker at the morning’s service.
The end.