"Freud for 800 Alex"
I usually don't write about my dreams for two reasons. 1) There is nothing more boring than reading about dreams. So I can only imagine no one wanting to read about mine. 2) All my dreams have the same characters (girls) and they all end up with me sitting up in my bed a little more heartbroken than the day before.
Last night though I had the best dream I can ever remember having. So for some reason I want to share some of it with you and since you weirdoes think that dream analyzing is valid, I'll allow you to go ahead and crush my dream. It was vivid, and since I went to bed drunk off my tits, I can only imagine that was why. I am pretty sure that I have had this dream before but I can't put my finger on it.
It was in black and white and we were on the set of a television show. When I say "we" I obviously mean faceless people that are more like shapes than people. I was the star of the show and I talked like
homestar runner. I was in a green room drinking an entire bottle of booze throwing shit around and being insane. I had these Korean girls in there naked hoola hooping and a small dog in a clown costume. George Clooney then comes rushing into the room and says "I'm done with cocaine and I'm done with your stupid show you son of a bitch. Nobody treats me like this." To which I reply, "Shut up you hack. I have your passport and your wife in a cage. You'll do what I say or you'll be crying til you die." Clooney replies "You fucking bastard." and storms out of the room.
The Korean girls then pick me up under my arms and walk me to the hall. The dream now becomes colored and as I'm walking the color fills my body like water into a pitcher. A door on my right opens to what looks like another green room. James Woods darts his head out and says "In here. In here you dolt." I curl my body like a spring and punch him in the face and continue to stagger down the hall. All of a sudden the girls go away and a make-up person comes to powder my nose.
I'm standing in front of the camera with a bottle of whiskey and I'm swaying back and forth. I get into character and start rehearsing my lines:
"Wait a minute. You back there, am I sounding into character?"
Silence
"I said "you back there!" you fucks. How do I look? And someone take this bottle of booze off the set."
Silence
"Oh well fine. Let the kids see me drunk. Fuck 'em. I hope they all die anyway. I hope you die too. Where's that fucking dog?"
The camera then opened up and I was in a room with what looked like a Thanksgiving dinner on the table. I pulled up a seat and thought I was doing an impromptu special for my TV show. James woods server me turkey with a gun and a knife as the utensils and George Clooney was just sitting there crying. I put my feet up on the table and lit a cigarette and decided to tell everyone the life story of "Bret Holmes".
Then I woke up.
See, reading about dreams sucks.
