I am never dreaming again. Ever.

Dear Bitches.
‘Been a long time, how’s it hangin’?

So I pretty much had the most disturbing dream I have evar had, and therefore have forsaken shit like dreaming.

Aw, man…I mean this fucker is really hard to tell, even in this vein, (keep in mind, the “long-distance booty call”, arrives in 24hrs, and I promised ribeyes and king crab, but I still haven’t bought any furniture in the new house and shit, so I gotta borrow a card-table and some folding chairs and shit…), just harvested 3 of my 5 pot plants, so the place REEEKS, work is off the wall busy, and I think I will be writing a four-figure tax check this week…so stress is outta here, but it don’t account for this shit:

So I gotta make this elevator or I will be late for work. I’m running and in my hand is my penis. Yup, I just cut the fucker off and it is in my hand, but I’m fully dressed and running with my cock in my hand.

And then I bite the fucker and start chewing. Running and chewing. Like a yuppie throwing down a Powerbar trying to make the subway.

So I’m eating my own dick, and it’s like a room-temperature rubbery Oscar Meyer, and I’m kinda dissapointed, 'cuz I don’t really like f’in hotdogs, and the fucker don’t have a bun or ketchup, and I look at my hand and low-and-behold-and-shit, the fucking hotdog is bloody.

So I’m still running and feeling a naseuses,(whatever) and pissed because I’m eating my dick and the fucker ain’t even cooked.

Then I start thinking about why I cut my cock off, and there was an answer something like “a crab loses a claw and regrows another”, but then I start thinking my dick has nothing to do with crabclaws. And I feel a wave of terrible anxiety and fear.

No shit.

Hi Super. It’s hanging very nicely, thank you.

That’s a really weird dream. Do you have impotence fears for your time of seeing your long-distance booty call? Are you afraid she’s a hot dog girl, and you’re a rib-eye guy?

How’s your job going?

Been a while since ya rapped at us, bro.

That was one messed dream. and shit.

Dude.
Stop Smoking the crack pipe before ya go to sleep.

( My Brother tells me this all the time, because of all the wierd sh*t I Dream )

The only sure thing is that there’s no connection between the impending booty call and the penis-anxiety dream.

Well, in meatspace you’re clearly worried you’ve bit off more than you can chew. QED.

I know exactly what this means. . .

Be very careful when preparing the king crab for yon fair “booty call” maiden tonight.

Fuckin’ A, and shit.

You guys are all missing the obvious. It’s all about the elevator. SK is obviously scared of going down. Poor booty call.

And shit.

You weren’t harassing Bambi, were you? Because when I was a teen I had a certain dream about how I dealt with some guys that pestered Bambi.

You think that’s bad? A couple of weeks ago I dreamed that Diane Keaton was almost broke and owned this failing little bookstore and she hired me to try to save it. Given that I don’t know the first thing about bookstores and really like Diane Keaton, this was a very stress…

Uh, you know what? Nevermind. Your dream was worse.

A lot worse.

You should break it down into parts and then define the parts. Penis- what does your penis represent to you, personally? Your masculinity, your earnings, your strength and power? Figure it out. What does the booty call stand for for you, and your inability to perform the dinner correctly? Pressure, stress at work, family obligations that you’re afraid you’re not living up to correctly? Figure out what every element of the dream stands for in your life, not out of a book or anybody else’s opinion, put them together, and kapow! you have your dream’s meaning.

There is a new penis within you that is ready to be born. Births aren’t always pretty. But after the mess and trouble, there’s new life with amazing potential.

And shit. (The shit part is required, right?)

That reminds me, I once had a dream about my teeth falling out. They got looser and looser until I spat out a handfull of teeth, bolts, and nuts. I was mildly concerned (I don’t get really upset during dreams, because I always know that I’m dreaming and can do it over if I don’t like it.) As I woke up, I heard: “Oh, that’s it. Those have to go to make way for the fangs to grow in.”

Not exactly the same, but I don’t have a penis to dream about losing.

I’m hoping you didn’t wake up and find your dachshund missing?

My first thought exactly. Can’t believe I never made the Anchower connection before today.

I think it was all the harvesting exertion.