Dream Diary

Last night I dreamed that I was at the mall and there was this huge crowd of folks and, naturally, I went to investigate.  Maybe someone had died or something, which is always good for a laugh. 

Turns out that the crowd was surrounding this line of revolutionaries who were being questioned by a futuristic sort of fascist police.  Being a law-abiding, God-fearing, totally ignorant citizen, I locked on the last person in the line – a girl I went to high school with. 

Let me tell you, this girl was porn star beautiful in high school.  And not the sleek, plastic, mainstream porn stars, I mean the girl next door type.  Like Haley Paige in her early days.  Great tits, just enough meat on her, and this sulky, sultry face with pinched eyes.  She was on my mind because a GS forum member and fellow alum from my high school mentioned her to me in a PM yesterday. 

As per my aforementioned innocent stupidity, I rushed right up to her and was bleating all about how great it was to see her, and wow, and gosh, and neaty-o.  I was distantly aware of everyone in the crowd going, whoa, what the fuck?  And, of course, the cops watching me.  One of the cops came and grabbed me by the collar and threw me down. 

Off I went to prison – the cops assuming that I was with these revolutionaries.  I was processed, stripped, put into a jump suit, then they took me to my cell where the daytime prison guard told me how to contact my lawyer, and what my charges were, and the basic prison rules.  Except, he couldn’t speak English.  He gave me all these complicated instructions, upon which my life hangs, in his native tongue, which was some sort of Indian thing.  Spots, not feathers.

My cell was actually quite comfortable, though, and I was immediately distracted by that.  It was about ten by ten, with an easy chair that turned into a bed, a toilet, a stereo system, a TV, and a little tray table.  There were no bars, just a Star Trek-style force field. I settled in to listen to some music when my night guard came.  He parked himself right outside of my cell and began to torment me.

Here’s where things got weird – my night guard was a giant flower who was allergic to himself, so he was constantly sneezing.  The problem was, he sneezed pure pollen, and that passed through the force field.  My first night in prison was spent hacking and blowing my nose.

I woke up before my first meal, but I was quite taken with the names for mealtimes.  They were called “Slaughters.”  So First Slaughter was at 6:14am (exactly when I woke up, coincidentally), Second Slaughter was at 12:14, and Third Slaughter was at 8:14pm.

Theraflu Nighttime, ladies and gentlemen!