memorable

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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I’m in California, visiting my dad with my son and daughter.We have gone someplace for the day, and have now decided to go look around thebay for scenic moments. We are in Oakland somewhere and come to a pullout, oroverlook, and as we get to the edge we can see the water and all the ships init, including a cargo ship and an aircraft carrier. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My dad says, “Let’s go take a look!”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]We go down to water level, somehow, possibly by convenientelevator. When we arrive at dock level I can see the port of Oakland on myright side, though it seems to have much less to do with cargo than usual, andall the cargo cranes are not present, only a few remain. Tied to the dock farto my right is an aircraft carrier, towering above us, and loaded with planes.This is the ‘wow’ moment. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]When I was young I would walk down to the Navy breakwater inAlameda and watch the carriers from only a few hundred feet away. They were bigand powerful, cities to themselves. When the Naval Air Station closed thecarriers left, along with all the planes and support personnel. I was alwayssad to see them go.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I’m looking at how big and shiny and colorful the aircraftcarrier is and how good the sky looks behind it. It seems the Navy has become alittle progressive with their color schemes and instead of just the plain greyof most ships this carrier has been updated with accents of black and red thatmake the carrier look powerful and swift. I decide I want my film camera instead of mylittle digital, which I left in the car, back up the hill. I tell my dad, “Ireally want my camera; I’m going to go back and get it.” He says, “Yeah, I think I want my camera,too.” He accompanies me back to theelevator and we ride up to get our cameras.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]At the top I walk out and I am standing in a dirt parkinglot. The dirt is fine and almost sandy, but not deep. Behind me where thescenic vista was is now a series of shops and other small buildings, none morethan five stories in height. The buildings are mostly made of concrete and lookold. The time is late afternoon and manyof the local workers are emerging, preparing to go home, and some appear toalready be toasted. Many are dressed in sailor outfits, though they don’t seemout of place despite us being some distance from the water. At some point I believe I have a conversationwith one of them.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I have come home from California, and I’m happy to be home.Jen is happy we are home also, though my kids don’t seem to be around. Theliving room of the house is different than normal. The structure of the houseis different, the walls have texture, and even the orientation of furniture is changed.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I walk out the back door with her and our storage room isoff to the left upon exit, and beyond it is a lot of brush. Jen decides tobreak some and starts a small fire in the outdoor fire pit/hearth (which doesnot exist in real life), and I break a few branches myself. Then I realize thatas the fire grows it will burn the plants and dead branches piled above thehearth, and I begin pulling down and breaking the material so it won’t start auncontrolled fire. Jen gives me anexasperated look as I put some branches on and stand them vertically so theywill catch, telling her, “You have to stand them up, like this, to make themcatch fire.” This prompts the eye-rolling from her, and she moves the firearound with a stick. [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]We come inside and she is on the far side of the kitchen,handling some task. I am still near the back door which now has a window to theleft of it when facing the back door. This window is not made of glass, or ismissing the glass, and instead has a thick plastic sheet in place, and I feel adraft coming around it. I inspect it more closely and discover it is notattached at the bottom, and pushing on it allows even more cold air to come in.The push also reveals a hidden pocket of snow, collected in the window and notyet melted, which I reach for. The snow is mixed with small leaves and grass,and it’s cold, but fluffy. I turn around to show everyone and a friend of myson is standing there, and he asks, “Is it cold? Can I touch it?” I throw it at him, and it lands on hisjacket. I feel pretty good about this and throw a little more at him, which hetakes in good stride.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I notice by looking out the back window that the fire isgetting high, and needs to be brought down, so I go outside to handle this. Thetrees above the fire are getting singed and one of the trees is actually onfire. These are thin trees, perhaps twelve feet in height at their top, and allare young fruit trees. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I head for the water faucet by the back door, turn on thewater to a medium flow, and begin spraying the trees with a mist to extinguishthe fire and protect them, while hopefully not dropping too much on the fire itself.Sadly, I use too much and the fire is diminished to a smoldering heap, but itis still burning and that’s what I wanted.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I go back inside, I believe, and walk up to the front of thehouse briefly, or perhaps not briefly, time and motion seemed to blend here. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Again I look out the back and now the yard is super-long,perhaps several hundred feet. On the right of the property is a long,chain-link fence, which just ends towards the back of the property. The firehas been moved out to the end of the property, and is in a large tank offiberglass, or heavy plastic, with ports on the side. I run because again thefire is out of control, sending flames and sparks some 25 feet in the air, andI don’t want the attention of the fire department. I turn on the hose, but thistime it is heavier, and longer. I realize that Jen has attached a second hoseto the first one so it can reach all the way to the back of the property. I runwith the sluggish hose filled with water and finally reach the fire pit, but asI arrive the fire is extinguished by several guys hanging out in the back yard.They have put out the fire using a fire-protection system that is mounted alongthe back side of the container. It consists of several vertical supports towhich large buckets are attached, each filled with water. Each bucket is blue,cylindrical in shape, and about two feet wide and four feet tall, and opensfrom the bottom to allow a dousing effect. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The container, or fire pit, is now filled with water whichsloshes back and forth. It is dirty and filled with ash, and one of the guys isin the water, trying to gain his footing. He apparently activated the system,though I wasn’t sure why he was in the pit at the time.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I explore the rest of the end of the yard here, and when Ilook towards the house it seems really far away. When I look out away from thehouse I see that the yard ends not far from where the fence ends, and becomes asloped piece of earth which leads to a street where many new homes are beingconstructed. The road is dirty, as is common around construction sites and Ican see the tire tracks of the vehicles in the dust.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]To my left, when facing out, a house is being constructed,and it appears to be encroaching on my property, and I say, “It was nice ofthem to ask if they could build here.” Suddenly I have doubt in my mind. Didsomeone ask? I can’t recall.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]From the street a vehicle approaches, turns down the hilland comes towards me. It is not a fancy vehicle, nor new, but the owner ordriver steps out and walks up. He is dressed in white clothes, not quite asuit, but more western in appearance. He walks and talks business.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I want to buy your truck, he tells me.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My truck? I’m not quite sure what he means. I turn aroundand the fire container has become a red truck body, and for some reason this iswhere the fire was built. The truck is old; possibly a late 70’s or early 80’smodel. There is a cab piece, a large bed from the truck, and a hood. Theproportions of all these truck parts are abnormal, possibly three or four timeswhat they would normally be. Despite their large size they are lightweight, andcan be moved easily. I pick up the bed and turn it upside down, and it is now coveringme like a cave. I back out and move the other pieces, to block the yard fromaccess. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“It’s not for sale, I don’t think.” I tell the man.“Besides, it’s not mine. It belongs to Jen.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The man dismisses me and starts to walk towards the house,and I tell him to stop. At first he ignores me, and I tell him, “You won’t getanywhere unless you talk to me first.” He is still walking and I hold up myhand and start counting fingers, backwards, “Five, four, three, two…” The man turns around and walks back. “Okay,I’ll listen.” [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]“The truck belongs to Jen, and has been part of the familyfor a long time.” He gives me a sidewaysglance. “I can take you to her but I need to talk to her first.”[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I get up from my seated position and am about to movetowards the house when I notice a couple of people have walked up, and they areheaded towards the stairway to my right (as I face the back of my house). Theback of the yard has morphed in to a room, and I am perched on the back of asofa which occupies part of an interior room with a fireplace, a large mirror,a couple of tables, and the previously mentioned stairway. The people, whoappear to be teenagers, proceed up and out of sight around a bend in thestairwell. This stairway wasn’t there just moments ago and I realize the house nextdoor has been built surprisingly fast. As I’m pondering its origin anothercouple walks up, a man led by a woman, and she is only wearing panties. She isan attractive women in nearly every way, tall and thin, tan skin, and longbrown hair. Her breasts are exposed, and the man I am with is staring veryintently at her breasts. They have beautiful fullness but her nipples appearinverted, and have the shape of lotus flowers, as If the flesh has beenterribly mutated or mutilated. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]She walks by and out of sight up the stairs, and I say, “Didyou see that? Her nipples? They’re all gross!” I’m slightly mad, slightly bewildered,and very confused. “And where do all these people keep coming from? Why arethey in my back yard?!”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The man had indeed seen her breasts, and had been staring ather with obvious lust on his face as he also stared at her ass. “Letch!” I callhim, and turn away. He seems unfazed by my comment and did not appear botheredby the shape of her nipples.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I don’t dwell on this and I walk back up to my house, whichis either closer now or I skipped over the walking part. To the right of myback door is the back door of another house which has now been built directlyagainst mine, and I say, “What the hell? When did this get here? Why did theybuild so close?” Indeed they are close, and to make it worse both houses now sharethe storage room to my right. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Confused and upset, I walk inside, through the kitchen, andon in to the living room. A party has been going on and there are guests in thekitchen and dining area, which I slip past. In the living room I find Jen, leaningdown in the closet near the front door, rummaging for something. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Honey? There’s a man here to see you. He wants to buy thered truck out back. “ [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]She stands up and turns around. We walk into the middle ofthe living room and from nowhere Riley S. appears. He is in his Boy Scoutuniform and is overly cheerful, standing boldly with his hands on his hips,arms bent out to either side. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I’m here to introduce the man!” he proudly announces.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]His scout uniform is covered in patches, each about threeinches squared, and these are all his merit badges. Suddenly the man appearsnext to him, and he is dressed similarly, covered in patches and fullyuniformed. He places his hand on Riley’s shoulder and says, “I’ve got this,son.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I turn to Jen and say, “Here is the man. He wants to buy theirtruck. He is not related to Riley, and is also not part of the Scouts. Oh, andhe’s a letch.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Again the man seems unfazed by this and asks if he can buythe truck. In a very pleasant voice Jen tells him it is not for sale, and hasbeen in the family for a long time. It’s special to her, and I begin to wonderwhy she had allowed a fire to be placed in it. Still, it’s not my truck, soit’s none of my business.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]This part may have occurred before the California dream.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I remember looking over all my cassette tapes, with theintention of playing one of them. This is an odd moment in the dream because Irecognize that cassettes are no longer in style, let alone production. Despitethis I am excited to play a tape of good music for…someone. I have the feelingI want to play music for someone but I don’t know who it is now. I am alsoexcited because I am using the cassette player my dad had when I was a kid,which I liked very much. It had lots of buttons and dials, and a VU meter foreach channel.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I recall, after the house dream, looking through somecomputer files for “The Death File.” I do not recall why I was looking for thisnot what it was connected to but it seemed important. I am standing over acomputer with an older-style monitor that displays yellow-lettering. I amclicking through a list of files and looking for the one I want.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I’m following someone, a female friend, and she leads me into a restaurant and on through to the backroom. I was under the impression thatthey needed help and that it might be fun to give assistance. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The room I walk in to is not a restaurant kitchen, but somesort of manufacturing warehouse. The walls are high but appear to be made ofclay or concrete, unusual for such a spacious room. Some of the equipment andwork stations appear like an old glass-blowing factory. In the ceiling there isa slow-moving vent fan that does little to alleviate the heat, though I see noopen flames or extreme sources of heat. I know it feels warm yet no one appearssweaty, though everyone is dressed for warm temperatures, overalls and shortsleeve shirts. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The woman continues on past several stations and passes aman whom she speaks to briefly about me, then walks past him and out of mysight. The man, who is brown –skinned like a man from India and has dark hairapproaches me, and I begin to take off my shirt. I am not sure why I am takingoff my shirt but it appeared right at the time. The man is holding up a leadvest, and says, “The first thing we need to do is get the lead vest on you. It’llkeep you safe.” This is when I realize that there is indeed fire and heatinvolved in working in this room, and the vest this man is offering me will donothing to protect 85% of my body. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I start backing away from the man, attempting to get myshirt back on. I become indignant and say, “No way! Who do you think you are?Do you realize who I am?!”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I walk away from him hurriedly and the location shifts to alarge home, almost palatial, perched on a hillside. The building is white, butnot brightly so, and has multiple levels and terraces with terrific views ofthe surrounding countryside. I am inside and holding a drink, and I am royalty.I also appear to be masculine, an unusual role in my dream, but I am talkingwith someone who is perhaps an advisor. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The man I am talking with is telling me about somethingmundane, an upcoming appointment or business affair which I must attend. I callhis attention to a woman standing among other people in the home, a beautifulwoman who appears in her mid-twenties, standing with her back to me, part of agroup of women who appear to be servants and various…guests? He tells me thatshe belongs to the Jade Dragon, and the mark on her back denotes that.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The Jade Dragon mark denotes someone who is very importantand is a special mark. The person with such a mark is feared and revered, asshe can bring fortune or pain. My advisor doesn’t tell me this but somehow Iseem to know it innately.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Everybody leave!” I command. “Everybody out!” I have myadvisor and all the other women leave the room, and because I am king they allfollow my orders. “Except you.” The beautiful woman stays, and I come closer toher.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]This woman is naturally beautiful. She appears to be Asianin heritage. Her skin glows as it is illuminated by the torches in the room,which weren’t there just moments before. Her hair is dark and full, flowing butnot longer than her shoulders. There are hints of auburn in her hair, but shedoesn’t color it. Her skin is tan and glistens, almost like she has beenrecently wet or rained on. Her smile is natural and comes easy to her face, butdoesn’t look overly toothy or fake. Her eyes are dark, possibly brown, but itis hard to tell in the dim light of the room.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]She fills me with light. She is warmth. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]On the woman’s back is the mark of the Jade Dragon, visiblebecause her gown is open in back, low-cut but not so low as to be overlyrevealing. The mark consists of raised lines, almost like thick scars, in theshape of a serpent climbing up her back with its head near her right shoulderblade. Surrounding the serpent is the shape of a shield, or marker, a shapewhich denotes the crest of the Jade Dragon and symbolizes power that issupernatural. I can only see three-quarters of the mark as part of her gownhanging over her left shoulder hides part of the mark.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I talk to her, and we get along instantly, and it hasnothing to do with me being king. Her face lights up as I talk to her, asthough no one has been kind to her in many years, and she doesn’t feelthreatened by me. Conversation flowsnaturally, and we end up lying on the floor and talking over drinks. A fire isburning behind us, and I can see the hearth over her back, slightly blurry inthe background of my vision. I am concentrating on her.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I am no longer king, but merely a person trying to know thewoman before me.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3] I want to kiss her,to touch her, and various erotic thoughts do enter my mind, but I do none ofthese things with her, and we are connecting on a deeper level even withoutspeaking. It feels like we both need each other.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]As I talk to her I discover she does not know what wordsare. She knows how to speak, she knows that language exists, but she has neverseen words, nor has she been exposed to writing. I promise to teach her and sheis genuinely pleased. I feel glad I can help her.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]She wonders why people treat her so, why people shun her andfear her. People turn her away from their shops and it hurts her feelings, butlife has always been such. I find it hard to fathom also, and clearly none ofthe local people have ever taken time to know her beyond myth. She is caringand compassionate, gentle in spirit, and happiness finds her easily when she isshown kindness. It’s painful to think she has been dealt such injustice, likecaging a beautiful animal in a prison that has no bars.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Talking to her makes me feel warm inside, and even magical,like first love. I am aware she has special abilities but they are neverrevealed in the dream. I feel connected to her like on one else has ever mademe feel, and it has nothing to do with her stunning beauty, nor the wine wedrink, nor the visibility of so much of her back. It’s as if we should haveknown each other for years, centuries, perfect pieces of a puzzle made for two,only now finding each other.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I want to know more.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I’m in a bus with my son filled with students from hismiddle school, but they look like high school students. It is at least 3:30P.M.,and the bus is driving south on Lamar Blvd. near Shoal Creek. We pass a building/housethat is on fire on the 2[/SIZE][SIZE=2]nd[/SIZE][SIZE=3] floor and I remark that it is still onfire. I believe I had seen it, perhaps passed by it, earlier in the dream, butthis may be a false memory. We continue along the road and I begin talking witha girl in front of me, and then I have some words for a nearby boy. I can’tremember what I said to the girl but I told the boy something in a very frankway, possibly something hurtful. I even thought about why I was saying what Isaid in a mean way, yet decided to continue saying it. The boy got up, cried,and wandered off. He was skinny, had glasses, and sort of wavy dark hair. Thegirl, who turned out to be a cheerleader, got mad at me and said, “Thanks a lot!He was one of the nice ones!” and she left.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Just remembered when I sat down on the bus with my son hestarted talking to a cheerleader and I was impressed he was talking to such apretty girl so casually, and comfortably, and he wasn’t awkward or shy. She wasreplying to him and he told her that she was, “…such a dumb bitch.” And she wasjust “really dumb.” I was now equally impressed and dumbfounded that he wouldsay this to her face, such a pretty and nice-sounding girl. I never got todwell on this in the dream.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Somehow we ended up in a flat-bottomed ferry-boat on theriver in Austin, which was bigger than usual. It was operated by a hefty, shortblack lady, who turned out to be Nell Carter. She had made her home on the boatand was using it to ferry people across the river, which somehow seemed a lotwider than normal. Outside the boathouse, on the aft deck, was a shallow pool,or fountain. The interior of the boathouse had chairs, plants, cabinets, andmap drawers along the walls.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]We cruised around on the boat for some time, taking considerabletime to get from one side of the river to the other. I recall chasing mydaughter around the boat, inside and out. She was younger in the dream,perhaps 2 or 3 years old, but Iperceived her as being 10 months old or so, and capable of decent speech. Myson was not aboard. After catching up to her (still chasing) I was talking withher and she asked me, “Why did we stay in the overflow annex for Aquafest for10 months?” I started to reply and then remembered she wasn’t alive back then.How could she know about that? We had indeed lived in the annex for 10 months,when I was a kid, but I didn’t even remember it because I had been little. Iremarked to the people in the room, “She’s right, but how could she know that?”(these are all false memories) I decidedit was important to look through the map drawers and found some maps thatseemed significant, and Nell Carter thought so also. Another person on the boatwas also looking at the maps and seemed worried about what they meant.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Dream-shift happens here.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Suddenly we were interrupted by a gang of mean men. Therewere skinny white guys and very large black guys, all wearing menacing leatherwith points and spikes. We (the group I was in) all picked up knives thatseemed to be lying around on the floor and prepared to defend ourselves. Thebad guys had knives also, and weren’t afraid to use them. We started facing offagainst different people and I took out a skinny guy and then another mid-sizedguy, and then I was left facing the giant black thug all by myself. He pulledout a knife that was more machete than anything, shiny and sharp. He tended to move stereotypically slow, and Inoticed I was wielding a heavy-handled 5” knife that had a nice heft to it. Ithrew the knife at him and it stuck in his chest, deep, but not completelyincapacitating. It slowed him a little, and as I was backing up from him Ipulled another knife out of the back of a slain thug that was lying on the groundnext to me. I prepared to fight, but I was clearly outmatched. He wielded hisbig knife and I had my little four or five inch knife, which made me feel likeI was about to die. Somehow, despite its size, I used the knife to block acouple of his attacks, and I finally stabbed him around the collar bone.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Though a decent wound it still did not stop him. I backedaway and noticed some gay male cheerleaders were part of the fray, and they wereclearly on the side of the bad guys with murderous intent, though it was likethey were infected with the urge to kill rather than being inherently bad. Theywere on a hill, one holding the hands of the other, keeping the lower guy fromsliding down the hill. I stabbed the upper cheerleader in the back of the neckand they both went down. They were still smiling, and doing “gay” cheers andwere clearly affected in the head, possibly by the zombie virus. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Stabbing the cheerleader was a weird sensation. Pushing theknife into his neck didn’t feel like I thought it should, slightly yielding yetmy knife didn’t seem to go in as far as I felt it should.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Just remembered I slit a couple throats during the fracas. The first throat I cut didn’t bleed like I hadhoped it would and I had to stab that person with a little more force. Thesecond person I grabbed and turned to face away from me so I could slit theirthroat properly. I drew my knife across their neck and blood gushed in asatisfying manner.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Now I had to face the big black thug one more time. I’m notclear if I stabbed him or threw another knife into his chest, but the knifewent in pretty deep, and he seemed to be bleeding from his neck, and possiblyhis mouth. He stopped, looked down and pulled out the knife, dribbled out someblood, turned around and just walked out. He was unhappy, hurt, seriouslybleeding, and he had endured enough.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I began searching through the knives left on the ground andfound a few folding knives and some cleavers with handles that covered aquarter of the blade. Knives were everywhere, the battle between groups havingbeen quite intense. Out of nowhere Oprah Winfrey shows up and starts lookingover the knives on the floor. She tells us we had good taste in knives and ifshe ever needed any cutlery she would come to us.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]This was such a weird dream, so odd that punks, gaycheerleaders, and massive thugs all were focused on the same killing task. Tome, it had felt as if all the bad guys were infected by some malicious virusthat turned regular people into homicidal maniacs. Additionally, all thecharacters were stereotypical in action. The gay cheerleaders were flamboyant,the skinny punks seemed incompetent, and the big black thug was very strong butmoved slower than I could.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Oh, and the soundtrack to my dream was a song by DrowningPool, called Bodies (“Let the bodies hit the floor!”) Very appropriate.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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