Weird Dreams

I’m not sure if it’s the Trash Panda I drank last night or the ice cream brownie bowl, but things took a little bit of a weird turn in the dream world.

My wife, stepdaughter and I lived in a huge, futuristic city, all white building and hanging gardens, with ramps everywhere to compensate for those with disabilities.

Our job involved some sort of healing mud, in which we would bury rich people in order to rejuvenate them. Axl Rose was buried deep within the pit. Poor people could get some too, a smidge on the end of their nose. The guy dishing out the mud to the poor people was trying to run a scam and cut into my profits. Pretty sure he was selling cocaine as well.

Rather inexplicably, we kept attending rooftop parties where local newspeople interviewed randoms who sang karaoke into their camera. The Barenaked Ladies were there, and They Might Be Giants, but we got bored, noting, “They harmonize nicely, but fuck this.”

My old boss was setting up book club meetings in our basement, which mostly devolved into questions from the attendees about the bones we had hidden in the panels in the basement’s roof. We joked that it was an old hairdresser friend of my wife’s, whose bones we were spreading across the city in order to hide her murder, only it wasn’t really a joke. Nobody seemed bothered.

About three times in this weirdfest, I had to scale a large hill, up some train tracks, past a shit ton of bramble and a large crowd outside a small, white, windowless bunkhouse that sat beside the tracks. On the third time up, as I was about three-quarters of the way, struggling through the bramble, I looked back to see the RCMP kicking in the door of the small white bunkhouse.

A little old woman exited, short and stout, with a close cropped mop of grey hair. The crowd watched in fear as the RCMP drew down on her and told her to get her hands up. Apparently, she’d broken into the bunkhouse to take a shit, and this somehow required the services of RCMP to punish her.

She put her hands up, but before they could cuff her, she took off running in a glorious, stubby flight. The RCMP chased her as the crowd hooted and hollered and some guy yelled, “That ain’t no digeriMYdoo!”

And that’s when I woke up.

Sometimes I fear for my mental health.

Mostly confused,


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