Wednesday, March 01, 2006
REM Insanity
Ever had a truely odd dream?
Here's one for you...
I had a dream last night that I was in England. I danced with the Queen, who had horrible breath, before she sent me on a secret mission to save the royal family. Next, I did quite a bit of driving about at high speeds in a Lotus Elise. As I drove, I snacked on edam cheese and crackers. Arriving at a castle, I proceeded inside the gate with a seductively dressed Sandra Bullock in tow. In the courtyard, I took out several beefeaters with a Thompson submachine gun. Once inside, I played a Bach partita on the reversed black and white keys of an ancient harpsichord, which caused a secret door in the floor to open. Descending, I shot some more beefeaters and then fought an epic sword battle with Osama binLaden before rescuing the Dauphin of France from the dastardly clutches of that horrible new spokesman for Tanqueray Gin (name unknown, but I recognized him by the appalling gap in his front teeth). As Sandra, the Dauphin, and I sped away in the Elise, I laughed heartily about my victory before plowing down Tony Blair in the parking lot outside. He did a number on the beautiful Elise's front bumper as he crumpled beneath it, so I sent a bill to his mum.
Tell me, readers of mine, what does my dream mean?
Here's one for you...
I had a dream last night that I was in England. I danced with the Queen, who had horrible breath, before she sent me on a secret mission to save the royal family. Next, I did quite a bit of driving about at high speeds in a Lotus Elise. As I drove, I snacked on edam cheese and crackers. Arriving at a castle, I proceeded inside the gate with a seductively dressed Sandra Bullock in tow. In the courtyard, I took out several beefeaters with a Thompson submachine gun. Once inside, I played a Bach partita on the reversed black and white keys of an ancient harpsichord, which caused a secret door in the floor to open. Descending, I shot some more beefeaters and then fought an epic sword battle with Osama binLaden before rescuing the Dauphin of France from the dastardly clutches of that horrible new spokesman for Tanqueray Gin (name unknown, but I recognized him by the appalling gap in his front teeth). As Sandra, the Dauphin, and I sped away in the Elise, I laughed heartily about my victory before plowing down Tony Blair in the parking lot outside. He did a number on the beautiful Elise's front bumper as he crumpled beneath it, so I sent a bill to his mum.
Tell me, readers of mine, what does my dream mean?
R.T. Lemur 6:57 AM
5 Comments:
I'm guessing you saw Johnny English recently?
Actually, no, never seen it. Does my dream track it's plot line?
Kinda. There was a Lotus in the movie and he was in secret service to the queen. It had a saucy Natalie Imbruglia instead of Sandra Bullock and there was a tunnel. The bad guy was a Frenchman.
So, if that's not it, then it must mean that you are making yourself very comfortable in your new life as a dad (like being in another country on a secret mission) and you are having very normal feelings of wanting to drive your beautiful wife around in a very fast car (perhaps in an effort to return to some of the pre-baby romance and adventure) and shoot down anything that threatens what you hold dear. I wonder if Tony Blair isn't a reference to "running down" previous ideas of how you would parent or traditions that don't fit.
All the while, you still have time to fret about what's happening in a courtroom across the pond (i.e., Sudam Hussein) and drink a good three fingers of scotch (I'm sure that's the meaning of gin in a dream).
That's my second guess.
So, if that's not it, then it must mean that you are making yourself very comfortable in your new life as a dad (like being in another country on a secret mission) and you are having very normal feelings of wanting to drive your beautiful wife around in a very fast car (perhaps in an effort to return to some of the pre-baby romance and adventure) and shoot down anything that threatens what you hold dear. I wonder if Tony Blair isn't a reference to "running down" previous ideas of how you would parent or traditions that don't fit.
All the while, you still have time to fret about what's happening in a courtroom across the pond (i.e., Sudam Hussein) and drink a good three fingers of scotch (I'm sure that's the meaning of gin in a dream).
That's my second guess.
Tell us more...
That's all there is, there ain't no more. At least there were no heavily armed clowns doing silly back-flips...
heh
heh