So... I'm not planning on doing dreams anymore since the only ones I remember having since I stopped posting them were... serious and not funny and... you know, weird and I just don't think people want to hear these things...
But, I woke up and thought that I could give such a great interpretation of this dream I gotta post it.
Dream #19: I am in a grocery store with some unremembered friends (and probably imaginery--let's be honest--how many friends do I have? Lemme count: one... twoish... maybe a partial three and four... and by now, my resources are dry). We have little nerf-style, magic water guns as we wander through the dangerous isles. At the front (where we can all shoot him) comes a faceless evil spirit person like a Dementor from HP or a Wraith from LOTR. AND HE'S CARRYING!--(a box of doughnuts...) But this is no ordinary box of doughnuts, my friend! These are black magic doughnuts! He has some hanging evil magic balls on his dirty black roby thing that I shoot. (I know, I'm always out to make the world a better place). These black, magic blobs seem to be part of his soul, because he's pretty upset and screaming about it... And then he decides to obliterate... himself... not by my hand... and the box of doughnuts fall. One of my imaginary (not real) friends attacks the fallen box of doughnuts with a hammer.
Me: "What the heck are yah doin!?"
Fake Friend: "I'm smashing the doughnuts! He can reincarnate as long as the doughnuts survive!"
All right. I fess up. I made up those lines, but that really was the reason and I don't remember how he explained it to me, but that's why we had to "kill" the doughnuts.
I come to his aid with my own hammer, and say as I raise it above the plain raspberry-filled doughnut (yes, I do remember the flavor--what of it, man!?) and say, "Aw, maa-a-an! I wanted to eat this one!"
Dream #19 Analysis: If you're dreaming about smashing doughnuts possessed by evil spirits... it's probably time to go on that "diet" (i.e. not having ice cream, doughnuts, frosted flakes, toast, and candy as a regular part of eating...) because you must be getting really FAT. (No offense, self. Why none too much taken, self. I knew it was coming...)
Closet Boy
My brother James and my Dad's favorite thing to do is to mock fight. (Actually, that's how we bond with my dad in my family--we don't talk much--we just poke him in the stomach and he slaps us in the face and laughs at us when we try [unsuccessfully] to slap him back. You might think I'm kidding, but I'm not. Don't get me wrong. It's all a very loving sort of annoying abuse...) Anyways, James was chasing Dad around the counter, and Matt got in the middle of it (to help Dad) so James threw little Mattie in the pantry closet and held the door shut.
Matt slams repeatedly against the door and says, "All right... one... two..."
James braces himself for three, but it doesn't come. Matt stays quiet. James: "You gonna finish there?"
Matt is quiet for a little longer and then bangs the pantry door and manages to open it a little before it gets slammed shut again. Hm, what are the odds? James is only about four times as heavy, you know.
My father takes the opportunity of distraction to run to his room.
James: "You're gonna leave your son--you're baby in the closet!? You're gonna abandon him!?"
Matt: "That's all right. I'm okay in here." And he's quiet again.
Yep. That's Matt. My sibling are weird--as you might slowly be realizing from my posts...
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