Analyze THIS dream.

I have weird dreams. I have them all the time. Sometimes they’re not so much weird as just disturbing, but I can’t post the disturbing ones here because, frankly, you people would stop reading my posts altogether. The weird ones, on the other hand, are all yours. And let me point out that the weird dreams aren’t dreams of the future like “I want to own an emerald green Lamborghini and have 3 full time supermodel love slaves to satisfy my every whim.” I don’t have those dreams all the time, just sometimes. I’m talking about night dreams, the kind you get when you sleep.

Last night I dreamt that I was driving along in my car and got pulled over by a cop. Not so weird, you say? Just wait. The cop didn’t pull me over from behind, but from the front, facing me, sliding in reverse. Kind of like a South Park car, just kind of sliding, not really driving, with the driver facing me. She looked pissed. I guess I didn’t mention that the driver of the cop car was a woman. She was. She looked like a stereotypical mad feminist type woman, all butchy and angry, and she was angry at me. So I pulled over, and started to get out my license and registration and what-not, but she came to the car and told me to get out.

So I got out. Then the backup arrived, and it was two guys, one was a big, grossly overweight guy, and the other was a midget. Both of them looked pissed too, and I remember wondering why everyone was so pissed at me. The big backup cop came over and smacked me on the head and said “Give me your license.” When I gave it to him he took it and said, “Do you know why she pulled you over?” I replied that I didn’t. The little one kicked me in the shin and said. "Neither do we, but you probably deserved it.

Then the female cop gets in the act. “I pulled him over because he has to clean his car out.” This, for some reason, made perfect sense to me. The cops pulled me over and wanted me to clean the trash out of my car. I pointed out that I didn’t have a trash bag, so the two backup cops said, let’s go get one from over there."

Over there was a shoddy, run down bar with a broken sign that said “BAR.” Well, actually it said “BA” because the R was broken. Even more actually, the sign didn’t say anything, just had letters representing words. My dreams aren’t so weird as to have talking signs in them. What kind of person do you take me for?

So I went into the BA with the police officers. The bartender was a blond shemale with a voice like Sean Connery and a body like Oprah. I told you this was a weird dream, but you failed to listen to me. Now you see what you get? Sean Connery speaking through Oprah’s body. Well, a blond Oprah, but even so, it’s a pretty disturbing thought. I don’t know that I’d want Oprah’s voice talking to me with Oprah’s regular body, much less from a blond she-male body. But I digress.

I asked the bartender for a trash bag, preferably a big one. While he/she was looking for the bag, the two cops struck up a game of darts and started drinking. I distincly remember watching the shemale’s panties ride up when she/he bent over. When I got the bag, after what seemed an eternity, I went to the cops and said “Okay, I’ve got the bag, let’s go.” One of them turned to me and said “Not so fast, buddy. We’re playing darts, so you can just wait.”

“Can I play?”


“Well maybe I should just go get started then.”

“No. We don’t want you to have the chance to hide the evidence.”

So I watched the two cops play darts, with a niggleing feeling that something bad was going to happen. Evidence? The midget whipped the big guy’s ass four games to one. Then we left. As we’re walking back to my car the midget starts leering at me and muttering to himself. It was pretty annoying, having a midget muttering to himself while walking next to me. You’d think he’d be polite enough to include me in his conversation. Finally I’d had enough and asked him “Why are you leering at me and mittering?”

“Because,” said he. “We know what you’ve got in the car.”

I panicked immediately. I knew what I had in the car too, and knew that if the cops saw it I would go to jail for the rest of my life. Crazy plans were presented and discarded to hide the evidence from the cops Maybe I could run for it. Maybe I could disarm all three cops and tie them up. Finally, I decided to dispose of the evidence in the simplest way.

So we got to my car and I started cleaning it out, taking out cans, bottles, and the occasional Taco Bell wrapper and putting them in the bag. When the moment seemed ripe, I quickly reached over and opened the glove box to grab the contraband and gobble it down. The midget cop saw me and shouted “He’s got a hamster! Get him!”

I shoved the hamster into my mouth and began to chew. It was amazingly realistic for a dream. I mean I could feel it wiggling and stuff as I chewed. The midget cop leapt at me and tried to force my mouth open, but he couldn’t do it. The big one and the lady cop started hitting me with thier night sticks, but I finally was able to swallow the hamster. The cops gave up.

The big one had a look of utter defeat on his face. “I can’t beleive we screwed up the investigation.” he said. Man, a hamster is good for a promotion to vice squad." He looked at me. “Just for that, I’m confiscating your car. You jerk.”

I tried to argue, but my mouth was a little dry. Hamsters are, at least in Dreamsville, dry like Saltines. So I watched the cops tow my car and took a cab home.

Then I woke up.

Maybe you wanted revenge for the hamsters eating your posts.
One dream theory is that everyone in the dream is you. More accurately a part of you. So some aspects of you personality are trying to tell your concious brain that your ‘car needs to be cleaned out’. You have some garbage in your life that needs to be cleaned up. They want to make sure you throw away what needs to be thrown out so they become scary cops and want to watch you do it.

I think it means you shouldn’t eat spicy food before bed. :smiley:

And I thought my dream about RTF and upholstering Lazy-Boy recliners was weird…

You are responding to unspoken stress in your family. Good Luck.

Well what about the pseudo-Oprah’s panties, eh? What about THEM?

sigh I only wish I could have dreams like that…

So, the moral of the story is: ALWAYS bet on the midget

[ parlor psychologist mode ]
obviously, you have greatly conflicted feelings about your sexuality. you see yourself as combining both the desirable male (Sean Connery) aspects with the off-putting female (Oprah) characteristics, all into one package. and while you strongly identify with the maleness of this image, you have an overwhelming desire to “get into” the female aspects (the panties).
[ /parlor psychologist mode ]

well, if nothing else, i’ve no doubt cured your dream problem for now. you’ll probably be afraid to fall asleep, lest you find yourself carrying through on that last imagery.

my work here is done. off to sow more discontent…

and i tried so hard to keep myself from posting this