My Fevered Dream *or* The Horndog Doesn't Die

If you have Delicate Sensibilities, don’t read this.
Really. You’ve been warned.
Sexist, piggish stuff coming up.
I have this dream. Fantasy really.

C.I.A. Black Helicopters collect all the Dopettes and take them to a warehouse in Texas. There they have to take a test. It looks like this:

  1. Do you date boys? Even part-time? Y/N

Everyone who answers “N” gets a lovely parting gift (a cylinder bank full of Tootsie Rolls) and are whisked back to their hum-drum lives. Everyone who answers “Y” gets whisked to my luxury yacht in the Mediterranean. On the way there, they are subjected to mild brainwashing, so their current romantic involvements mean nothing to them. And this whole scenario is much less tacky.

Jarbaby would be dressed as Jessie from Team Rocket (just because), Francesca would get genie pants and a velvet vest (also, just because), Elenfair is draped in bubble wrap: you get the idea.

BEHOLD! My luxury yacht, The Passion Barge. It’s really a converted supertanker. Painted pink. One of the holds is now The Jell-O Room, one The Covered in Foam So You Don’t Get Bruises Room, one The Treehouse Room, the next The Laser-Tag Arena (because that would just be cool). The women are greated by me (and in this Dream World I look much less like an albino potato with bad hair).

“It’s ME, or the SEA, bay-BEE!” (I have all the smooth lines.)

I figure I wouldn’t loose more than half, maybe 2/3 going over the side. Brainwashing just ain’t what it used to be.

Then there’s the Jell-O Wrestling for the First Mate spot. Sort of a droit du seigneur thingy. From there it just goes downhill.

I would like to say right here, right now, I respect all you broads… I mean women completely. I love you all for your minds. This lust-dream thing is NOT MY FAULT. Testosterone Poisoning, or something. But the big boat thing would be cool.
-Rue.

Why am I seeing you as Dennis Hopper in Waterworld.

Passion Barge, indeed.

Sweet! Can I play? I’m a good shot.

[sub]Do you really have this dream or is this one of those “I’m busy in the bathroom” dreams?[/sub]

(This may result in a duplicate post - I’ve been having problems all afternoon!)

So, you’ve just described the garments for 3… I’m assuming the rest get to wear terry cloth bathrobes and fuzzy slippers.

If that’s the case, I’m in.

I wanna play Laser-tag but if the jello is Lime flavored, I’m going over the side. Otherwise, leopard-print robe and slippers please, but in satin.

Hey! Hey! I love lime jello so I move up a spot if Cyn goes overboard. Yeeeee Haaaaaa!

BTW, your doper dreams are much better than mine. I’ve dreamt of one SDMBer and he had to ruin a good sex dream by being happily married in it. Of all the rotten luck.

Oh you devil you… :smiley:

::: struttin’ around in her bubblewrap ::::

Rrrrow…

Next time around, dream of plastic wrap - it leaves a lot less to the imagination, not to mention it doesn’t have the tendency to pop… :smiley:

Rue, just for the record: I hate Tootsie Rolls.

Although, in fact, I have dated guys before, quite a lot in fact, and god only knows how I’d answer the question if posed to me by the men in black. Which means I might end up on the yacht, I guess.

In which case, just for the record: I hate Jell-o.

[sub]And, speaking frankly, your yacht sounds like the ideal place for a lesbian or two. If nothing else, Rue, we could provide you with some hints, which it sounds like you sorely need.[/sub]

Anyway, I’m filing this one under “Evidence for Rue’s Committal Hearing” and, what is more, putting a big star on top.

deepbluesea I guess lesbians can come too. The Passion Barge is a big place. Just don’t point and laugh. OK? (And I read the “Foods I Haven’t Eaten” thread. deep, you don’t eat anything good. If you don’t want your Tootsie Rolls, how about a bag of sunflower seeds. Just for you.)

If you turn the lights up in The Jell-O Room (which I don’t recomend, it spoils the ambiance) you’ll notice there isn’t merely one Jell-O Pit. There are six. Lime, raspberry, cherry, chocolate pudding, banana pudding and one pit that’s empty (in case you don’t like Jell-O). And no cheap “gelatin desserts” either. Real Jell-O.

Elenfair if you don’t like your bubble wrap (but the popping is a good thing) you can root around in this big box I found. It’s marked:
Sexy, Sexy Costumes
(Juvenile Fantasy Corp.)

There’s the terry robe and slippers for FairyChatMom (and look at these crotchless granny underwear- comfy and easy-access), the satin one for Cyn (sorry, no leopard print, but there are zebra stripes and tiger prints). Ah! Here’s the plastic wrap! There are many more outfits in here too. Don’t be shy. Root around untill you find something.

Green tights and bikini top with a Robin Hood hat.
Mary Ann outfit from Gilligan’s Island.
A catcher’s mask.
Indian Princess leather number.
Plaid mini-skirt and white blouse.
A Pirate Queen.
Duct tape.
Cut off blue jean shorts and a halter top.

Wow, there’s alot of stuff in here.

Grace the brainwashing is very important to a good fantasy scenario. Get rid of Real Life completely.

BunnyGirl do you want to hear about a real dream I had a couple of nights ago? You do? OK.
I was standing in line for the bathroom at a Movie Theater. It wound around an alcove in the wall. Through the curtain you could see an old man pulling switches, á la Wizard of Oz. Shadoe Stevens gets on the P.A. and tells me I have to go faster, and an usher leads me up a flight of stairs. They sit me down in the top, right-hand square in Hollywood Squares. Whoopi Goldburg is eating a pie. Gilbert Gottfried is mad because they have him dressed in a parrot suit (Iago from Aladdin).
That was a real dream.

How weird is it that only women replied to this thread so far?
-Rue.

WARNING WARNING WARNING: Tasteless reply!

Okay, it’s been a tough couple o’ days and all, and I guess I’ve snapped, because this paragraph was the funniest thing I’ve read all week.

We sure can, Rue. And here’s the thing - we can do it even without a big yacht!**

If you honestly believe that, Rue, then I pity your wife. (And I’ve deduced two things: a) I know why you aren’t gettin’ any and b) you’re definitely gonna need the lesbians for guidance on The Passion Barge. Boy, don’t you know anything?)

Okay, folks, that’s it, I promise. In just a few minutes we’ll return to the all-taste, all-the-time version of deepbluesea, and she’ll be mightily embarrassed to see what her alter-ego has posted under her name, too.

[sub]snicker[/sub]

deepbluesea I love you (in a purely Platonic, non-sexual way).
-Rue.

Genie pants??

::wanders into the Treehouse room, armed with a laser gun from the Laser-tag room ::

None of you fcking trees move or I’ll fell every motherfcking last one of you!

Cue cool music

::Fran rolls across the floor in her tight velvet vest, coming to a perfect kneeling stop below the biggest branch. Reaching up, she hooks her slender arm round the branch and swings herself up, magically landing in a gracefully reclining position::

Beckoning Rue over, she says

“I promise not to hurt you honeybunny. I kinda like albino potatoes.”