funky dreams
Sometimes, I wish I had the ability to interpret dreams. Sometimes some of the dreams I have make me think I'm ready for the funny farm.
Here's the doosey from last night.
I was on a cheapo flight to Wendover with a bunch of old people from Michigan. How I got on that fight I don't know, but the airline and I knew I wasn't part of the group because when we got off the plane, there were ladies at a long table and I had to talk to them about my frequent flyer miles, which were given to me in the form of tickets. Not airplane tickets, but tickets like the kind you buy for a raffle or get out of the games at Chuck E Cheese. They had to put mine in an envelope and they had different colors for different amounts of mileage. The 15,000 mile tickets were yellow. Don't ask me why.
When I got to the hotel, it wasn't a casino/hotel in Wendover, but a building I'd been in before. I didn't stay where I usually do in that building but I knew where I usually stayed. My room this time was room 216 or 243, I forget which. But I remember walking through part of the building and thinking that this was my usual room. I mean that. It was MY room, but it was just a room you walked through and it was like I'd walked through it more than once before.
Then I was in this big like warehouse room and someone I really don't like came after me with these sorry looking homemade num-chucks. I took them away and whupped the guy's ass. Hey, it was a dream... and boy, did it feel good. And then,
This rough and evil looking guy showed up and told me I was gonna have to fight him again. The guy was like threatening me that I had to fight this guy again. OK, I whupped his ass once with his fake-ass num-chucks. Why not? So I pulled up at the date and time (one o'clock the next day, whenever that was) and this guy's up on the world's biggest B-4 stand. (It's a maintenance stand commonly used in the Air Force). I'm thinkin', OK, I don't gotta whup this guy again, I just gotta push him off the stand and it's game over.
This is where it gets weird.
I tripped home boy and tried to push him off the stand. He didn't fall off, just fell down and that's when the gun came out. Colt .45 pointed right at yours truly. I asked dude why he wanted to kill me and he said it was because I wouldn't be buddies with him. I started telling him about the Bible and that's how I got the gun away from him and got the victory without having to whup his ass again.
Then I'm in this shopping place. Kind of like in the food court, except it turned into like a machine shop. And a guy from church was there. When it was the food court/shopping place, he was with his wife. When it was the machine shop, I was trying to put a rivet in this little a-frame step stool. He was trying to help me or do it for me, but when we tried it, he drove the rivet and I held the bucking bar (please don't make me explain how to buck rivets). For some reason, I had the feeling he'd tried to help me do this task once before because it didn't work and I said something about it not working again and maybe we had better quit trying.
And then it got weirder.
The ex showed up in a dream. In a shopping place/cafe type thingie. And we talked some. And then my buddy from work showed up in the dream and he took her side about something (I don't remember what but I do remember it wasn't a big deal). And then I was trying to buy her something or something like that and he was telling me not to or something. And then she showed up again and I started telling her about being a Christian and told her about the lady that asked me to stop sinning and told her maybe it was a good idea if she did something like that. I just remember trying to tell her everything I'd have loved to told her. And I even explained why I tried for so long and about what Scripture says about the whole mess. But then too, I remembered her saying something to me that caused me to tell her the biggest favor she could do me is to marry someone else so I was off the hook.
And then she started in on how she wasn't gonna do that or this and then the last thing I remember before the magic dust wore off and I woke up was her telling me: "I'm engaged, though."
If I still drank, maybe there'd be a reason for this.
And what does it mean?
If you can figure that out, you let me know.
Here's the doosey from last night.
I was on a cheapo flight to Wendover with a bunch of old people from Michigan. How I got on that fight I don't know, but the airline and I knew I wasn't part of the group because when we got off the plane, there were ladies at a long table and I had to talk to them about my frequent flyer miles, which were given to me in the form of tickets. Not airplane tickets, but tickets like the kind you buy for a raffle or get out of the games at Chuck E Cheese. They had to put mine in an envelope and they had different colors for different amounts of mileage. The 15,000 mile tickets were yellow. Don't ask me why.
When I got to the hotel, it wasn't a casino/hotel in Wendover, but a building I'd been in before. I didn't stay where I usually do in that building but I knew where I usually stayed. My room this time was room 216 or 243, I forget which. But I remember walking through part of the building and thinking that this was my usual room. I mean that. It was MY room, but it was just a room you walked through and it was like I'd walked through it more than once before.
Then I was in this big like warehouse room and someone I really don't like came after me with these sorry looking homemade num-chucks. I took them away and whupped the guy's ass. Hey, it was a dream... and boy, did it feel good. And then,
This rough and evil looking guy showed up and told me I was gonna have to fight him again. The guy was like threatening me that I had to fight this guy again. OK, I whupped his ass once with his fake-ass num-chucks. Why not? So I pulled up at the date and time (one o'clock the next day, whenever that was) and this guy's up on the world's biggest B-4 stand. (It's a maintenance stand commonly used in the Air Force). I'm thinkin', OK, I don't gotta whup this guy again, I just gotta push him off the stand and it's game over.
This is where it gets weird.
I tripped home boy and tried to push him off the stand. He didn't fall off, just fell down and that's when the gun came out. Colt .45 pointed right at yours truly. I asked dude why he wanted to kill me and he said it was because I wouldn't be buddies with him. I started telling him about the Bible and that's how I got the gun away from him and got the victory without having to whup his ass again.
Then I'm in this shopping place. Kind of like in the food court, except it turned into like a machine shop. And a guy from church was there. When it was the food court/shopping place, he was with his wife. When it was the machine shop, I was trying to put a rivet in this little a-frame step stool. He was trying to help me or do it for me, but when we tried it, he drove the rivet and I held the bucking bar (please don't make me explain how to buck rivets). For some reason, I had the feeling he'd tried to help me do this task once before because it didn't work and I said something about it not working again and maybe we had better quit trying.
And then it got weirder.
The ex showed up in a dream. In a shopping place/cafe type thingie. And we talked some. And then my buddy from work showed up in the dream and he took her side about something (I don't remember what but I do remember it wasn't a big deal). And then I was trying to buy her something or something like that and he was telling me not to or something. And then she showed up again and I started telling her about being a Christian and told her about the lady that asked me to stop sinning and told her maybe it was a good idea if she did something like that. I just remember trying to tell her everything I'd have loved to told her. And I even explained why I tried for so long and about what Scripture says about the whole mess. But then too, I remembered her saying something to me that caused me to tell her the biggest favor she could do me is to marry someone else so I was off the hook.
And then she started in on how she wasn't gonna do that or this and then the last thing I remember before the magic dust wore off and I woke up was her telling me: "I'm engaged, though."
If I still drank, maybe there'd be a reason for this.
And what does it mean?
If you can figure that out, you let me know.
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