Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream

Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream
Not Involving Rowboats or Getting Laundry Clean

I’ve made a bit of an effort with this LiveJournal thing to write these as articles instead of tidbits about my life.  There’s no particular reason for this, except that maybe I am too lazy to make daily postings and writing an article is more appealing.  However, today I must describe the dream I had last night because it was Fucked Up.

I don’t recall much of what introduced this segment of the dream, but there was some basic running around and meeting with folks.  Most likely I was being chased by the Government, a common theme in my dreams.

It begins properly in “high school,” which was a large underground facility as it always is.  I was leaving high school to move onto something else, and I was asked by some folks to go out to lunch for a going-away party.  “Sure, I’ve got some stuff to finish up, but I’ll meet you over there in a bit,” I responded.  So far this is not an unusual dream.

Thing is, I didn’t know the guy who invited me.  He was pretty short, about 5’2″, stocky, close-cropped blonde hair, and a squarish face.  I asked someone that I know, “Who is that guy?”  “Oh, that’s Lavant,” they respond.

Lavant is a psychopath.

I then get a series of 3 x 3 frames of Lavant being a psychopath.  Someone mentions that he “even had sex with the janitor!”  The center frame is him apparently pleasuring himself in a tent on a white background under blankets.  The frame to the side is a closeup of the janitor holding a broom.  I don’t recall the other frames.  

But Lavant also got busy with our alien overlords.

It then switches to a B-movie clip from the ’50s of a dude being slowly backed up a staircase outdoors, and eventually against a chain-link fence.  The people backing him up are space aliens, and the shot is of their backs (since they’re backing the dude up).  It’s not shown, but apparently space alien dude has his member out, and says menacingly to the guy being backed up, “Oh Mr. Crinkle, why won’t you wrinkle?”   That, by the way, was a subtitle.

Then it switches to another B-movie where these four flying hardbound books are attacking women, so I set off to take these books out.  Eventually I track them down, and they plead with me to help get them back to their space ship.

I say fine, but that they’ve got to lead the way.  One of them insists on walking (or perhaps flying or flapping) behind me, which I say is just not going to happen.  I don’t trust these books, one of which has “LP” written on the binding. 

We’re walking down traintracks, and as we start to cross a trestle (a train bridge), the “LP” book gets behind me, so I kick it off the trestle and it falls to the ground spewing a bunch of lime green audio tape as if it were a cassette.  

The other books take off, and I chase them down to an old Pullman rail car, where they are hiding underneath one of the axles.  By the way, I did notice the Timken bearings on the axle, just for any train nerds who might read this.  I then start berating them in rhyme on how they can find their own way back to their space ship:

“You can use a plane, or ride in a train!  You can go very far if you take a car!  I know what you might like, try a ride on a bike!  But about this you may flip, go on a sailing ship!”  I need to point out that I was angrily screaming this at the books which were hiding under the Pullman.

Then the phone rang and I woke up.

I defy any junior Freudians to come up with an interpretation of that mess.

Yr pal,
Mike